The Misters: Books 1-5 Box Set

by JA Huss

  “I was…” But he stops.

  “You were what?” I’m dying now, and he’s not getting anything from me until I understand what happened.

  After a long silence he says, “I’ll tell you why they call me Mr. Romantic instead. How about that?”

  “I already know why. You’re a player.”

  “No,” he says. “I told you. That’s not why they call me Mr. Romantic. Claudette was lying. Well, not really lying. She has no idea either.”

  So. A real secret. About his nickname, no less. “OK, then tell me.”

  “Over breakfast,” he says, that winning grin back in place.

  I feel like I just walked into a trap. I feel like a rabbit looking up into the eyes of a wolf.

  “You want to take a shower?” he asks. “Freshen up while I cook? Come on, I’ll show you where.”

  He takes my hand and leads me inside. The furniture is sparse and there’s not much about it that’s personal. Maybe that’s how he is? Impersonal. And this place says a lot about him. Or maybe all this was left over from his friend and he never bothered to change it?

  He takes me through the large living area and back to the front foyer where we climb the stairs and walk down a catwalk that overlooks the view and the living room. It’s lined on either side with cables and steel posts. A very modern version of a railing.

  We end up in what has to be the master bedroom because it has the same view as the back yard, but better.

  “Here, Ivy. You can use my bathroom. I’ll bring your case up and leave it in the bedroom. Just come downstairs when you’re done and we’ll get started.”

  Get started. We’re making a business arrangement. I should stop this. He’s going to tell me some far-fetched story about that night back in college. Something ridiculous that will ease my mind so he can take advantage of me.

  Maybe.

  Maybe that is what he’ll do.

  But I can’t seem to stop myself. I feel a little bit like those people down on the track. Like I’m getting caught up in something. Something that might make me feel good in the moment, but be bad for me in the end.

  “Go ahead,” Nolan says as I hesitate.

  I stare out the window for a second, then look back at him, but he’s already walking away, pulling the door to the bedroom closed behind him.

  I would like to freshen up. I’m feeling pretty grungy after the sex last night. So I walk into the bathroom and… wow. It’s wow.

  A tall window on the far side looks out onto the ocean and my feet are in front of it and I’m staring down at the crashing waves before I even have time to think.

  What a life. What must it be like to live a life like this?

  I’ve never wanted for anything. I was well taken care of and I had access to the best education. If not in the world, then at least in this country. I grew up with nice things. But that’s all they were. Nice. The school was not… this. It was not luxurious. Yes, we had everything boarding schools on the East Coast have. Swimming pools and modern classrooms. Stables filled with several millions of dollars’ worth of horses. Pretty uniforms and class trips.

  But luxury like this is not something I’m used to.

  The shower is so extravagant with all the shower heads and knobs, I don’t even know where to start. And the white marble floor complements the white marble tiles. The sparkling glass surround tells me Nolan either has a maid or he never bathes, because there’s not one water stain to be found. The sunshine from outside washes over the room in a soft, golden glow and the sheer white curtains and tall candlesticks make it feel romantic.

  Romantic.

  Is he… romantic?

  No. My laugh echoes right up to the high ceilings.

  I turn back to the shower and step inside so I can turn on the water. It comes falling down from the ceiling in a large square pattern, making me step out to avoid getting soaked.

  “Well, if one must clean up after messy sex the night before, this is not a bad way to do it.”

  I slip Nolan’s t-shirt off my body and his scent almost overtakes me. I wish I could keep this shirt on forever.

  The shorts slip down my legs and I step away, kicking them aside.

  It’s steamy now, and I can’t wait to get in and stand under that rain shower of hot water. But just as I’m about to step in, the door opens.

  Chapter Twenty-One - Nolan

  She’s talking to herself when I bring the case up to the master bedroom. I walk over to the bathroom door and press my ear against it, but she goes quiet again and all I hear is the water raining down in the shower.

  Is she under that water yet? I picture her wet body the way it was last night in the pool. And even though I said I’d cook breakfast while she showered, I’m not in the mood for food.

  I’m in the mood for Ivy Rockwell’s body.

  I just want to see it. Just look at her tits in the daylight. Take in the curve of her hips with my eyes instead of my fingertips as I grabbed onto them and fucked her from behind last night.

  So I open the door… and I’m immediately busted. She’s not even in the shower yet.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  I expect her to cover herself, but she doesn’t. She just stands there. So what can I do but look?

  “Fucking hell,” I say.

  “Get out, Nolan,” she says.

  But I don’t get out. I take a step inside and reach behind my head to grab the collar of my t-shirt. It comes off and I toss it near her shorts.

  “Nolan,” she says again. “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t,” I say.

  “Can’t what?”

  “I can’t just walk away after seeing this.” I wave a hand down her body. She is only a few feet away, so I cross the distance and place my hands on her hips. My eyes can’t see enough.

  She wriggles, but I hold tight as I study her tits. Her nipples are hard, pulling her breasts up. And they are begging me to suck them.

  “Nolan,” she says again, but this time it’s a whisper. “Nolan.”

  “Keep saying my name, Ivy. It only makes me want to fuck you more.”

  “Nolan.” And then she stops herself.

  I look up at her face and she bites her lip. “What?”

  “I thought we were having breakfast?”

  “I can eat pussy for breakfast.”

  “Stop it,” she says.

  “Stop what? I’m not doing anything. Yet.”

  “We’re going to talk business.”

  “We can still talk business.”

  “You were going to tell me a secret over breakfast.”

  “I can tell you a secret in the shower.” She’s silent. “Come on, Ivy. Give me another chance.”

  “Another chance at what?” She’s exasperated. Uneasy. Unsure of what’s happening.

  But that’s OK. I’m very sure of what’s happening. “To make you feel good.” I grab her breast and squeeze. She sucks in a breath and makes a little moan. “Let me try again. I won’t hurt you this time, I promise.”

  “I want what you promised me downstairs. I want to know why they call you Mr. Romantic first.”

  “OK,” I say. “But I can do that at the same time.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I place a finger over her lips to keep her quiet. “Trust me for a minute. Let me tell you my way. It’s so much better than revealing my secret over pancakes.”

  She’s so out of her league with me. I know that. She’s inexperienced in almost every way. And I’ve got all the experiences she craves.

  And since she doesn’t try to stop me again, I push my shorts down and fist my cock. She stares at my hand as I pump. And it occurs to me, she hasn’t gotten a proper look at my body either.

  “Do you like it?” I ask, reaching for her hand. Releasing my hand and replacing it with hers. “Do you like how big it is?”

  I never take my eyes off her. She swallows hard and all I can think about is how it felt to be in her mouth last night. The way her mu
scles moved against my dick when she swallowed. I wish she was facing me when I unloaded my come in her mouth. I wish I could see the way it must’ve dripped out when I took her by surprise.

  Ivy nods her head yes to my question and that’s all the permission I need. I take her hand and lead her into the shower, pushing her under the water, and then pushing her some more, so she has to bring her hands up and place them on the wall if she doesn’t want to crash into the marble.

  I press my body against her back, my dick so hard it slips between her ass cheeks, and now it’s my turn to moan. “Do you remember asking me to fuck you in the ass last night, Ivy?”

  “I take it back.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. “I’m not gonna, you silly anal virgin. I just wanted to remind you how horny you were. So turned on, you almost begged me for it.”

  “I couldn’t help it, I was scared.”

  Awww. I actually feel bad. “I can make it up to you.”

  “I’m sore, Nolan. I don’t think I can.”

  “I’ll be careful this time,” I whisper in her ear. “I promise.”

  She hesitates as I wait. “Tell your secret first. I want to know why they call you Mr. Romantic.”

  “You know that will change things, right?”

  “Why?”

  I start kissing her neck, my lips pressing against her soft skin, my teeth unable to stop the small nibbles. “Because it actually is romantic,” I say. “The name isn’t ironic, Ivy. They call me Mr. Romantic because I was doing something very romantic back in college.”

  “What?” She turns her head, and I take the opportunity to kiss her on the lips. She opens for me and all I want is to put my cock back inside her. Inside her pussy. Between her lips. But I settle for my tongue. For now.

  “I…” I want to laugh. Because it’s ridiculous. “I had a thing for drawing girls while I fucked them. And you know what?”

  “What?” she whispers into my mouth. “Tell me what.”

  “They liked it. They thought it was romantic. I was good at it. And it got around school that I liked to do this. And that’s why they call me Mr. Romantic.”

  She pulls back and turns around. I let her because I want to look at her tits again. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not,” I say. “I swear.” I squeeze both nipples at the same time and she closes her eyes. “But there’s more to it than that. Everything has a catch, Ivy. When you stepped into this house there was a catch.”

  “You want to fuck me.”

  “Hell, yes. And I’m going to.”

  “What if I say no?”

  “You won’t. Now listen to the catch, OK? Because this is what makes all the difference. The catch was…” I can’t believe I’m talking about this again. It’s not good. I should shut the fuck up.

  “What?” Ivy asks. “Tell me. Tell me what it was.”

  “The catch is that I like to do things to them during sex. Rough things. And so after I pose them in just the right way, and after I draw most of it, I add those rough things to the drawing and ask them if they’ve ever done it before. Ask them if they’d like to try it.”

  “What kind of things?” She’s afraid. I can tell. Her eyes are wide and she’s breathing faster.

  “Choking, for one.”

  She gulps air as my palm rests on her neck. Her eyes flutter as my thumb presses against her jugular vein.

  “So I dangle the bait and see if they bite. Does it turn them on to see the drawing? Or do they walk out?”

  “How many walked out?”

  I lean into her ear and whisper, “Only one.”

  I take my hand off her throat and she opens her eyes. “Why do you do it?”

  “It turns me on. You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never really been with a guy.”

  “I was with you. Last night.”

  I shrug and step back. “I was holding back. Plus I don’t do it much these days.”

  “You still draw?”

  “Yes.”

  “Show me.”

  “I can’t. I burn them afterward. I don’t keep the pictures.”

  “Then draw me. And prove it.”

  “I will, Ivy. If that’s what you want. But I like to fuck hard afterward and you need it soft.”

  “I don’t believe you. I think you’re lying. I think you’re the one responsible for my fake résumé. I think you brought me here.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. But it was you. I know it.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  She has no answer for that.

  “I know why you’re here, Ivy.”

  “Why?” She straightens her shoulders like she’s trying to be brave. Like I’m scaring the shit out of her and she’s forcing herself to remain calm.

  “You told me. You want me to fuck you. So let me. Let me fuck you again and this time, you won’t cry afterward.”

  Her eyes narrow. “You knew I was crying?”

  “No. But I’ve thought about it. I’ve run the whole thing back in my mind and I get it. I hurt you. And it wasn’t my intention. I just like to fuck a certain way. And if I had known you were a virgin, well…” I laugh.

  “You wouldn’t have touched me.”

  “I would not have touched you. I can’t risk another girl misunderstanding my intentions and accusing me of rape again, now can I?”

  “You did rape her, didn’t you?”

  “I did not.”

  “She thought you did, though. Didn’t she?”

  “She didn’t, Ivy. I swear. It was nothing like that.”

  “Then tell me what it was like.”

  “No.”

  “Then why should I trust you?”

  “I never really asked you to trust me, Ivy. I just wanted to fuck you.”

  “And now you want to fuck me again?”

  “Yes. Again, and again, and again. I feel a little possessive of you now. Like I have a claim. Like you’re mine.”

  She licks her lips, but it’s a nervous gesture.

  “I’ll be careful,” I say. “I can make it up to you, Ivy.” I place my hand on her cheek and press her back against the tile. The whole shower is steaming up from the hot water and a mist floats between us. A thin mist that might as well be a wall. “I’ll show you why they call me Mr. Romantic. You won’t be disappointed.”

  She just stares into my eyes.

  “Say something.”

  “I can’t,” she whispers.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t trust myself.”

  I grin. Oh, you little fucking virgin. “You don’t need to trust yourself, you just need to follow my lead.”

  “I can’t do that either. Something is missing.”

  “You know what’s missing, Ivy? My dick inside you again, that’s what’s missing. I know you’re inexperienced, so I’m gonna talk you through this. Turn around, press your hands on the tile above your head, and open your legs.”

  “No.” She licks her damn lip as she says it. And then she says it again. “No.”

  “Then what are we doing here?”

  “Negotiating, Mr. Delaney. Isn’t that what one does in a business agreement?”

  “Is this business?”

  “It is now.”

  I tuck my head down to hide the grin. “OK,” I say, looking back up at her. “Let’s make a deal. What do you want?”

  “The truth about that night.”

  “Can’t do it, Ivy. I haven’t told anyone. Not my sister, not my friends, not my father, not even my mother. And if I were going to tell someone, it would be my mother, not you.”

  Her shoulders relax and she takes a deep breath. “So you’re a mama’s boy?”

  I shrug. “Maybe. But I’ll tell you what. I’ll play the game with you, if that’s what gets you off. I’ll draw you. I’ll pose you and draw you. Naked, out there in bedroom. And then you’ll see that what I just said is true.”

  “What do I have to give you?” sh
e asks.

  “Turn around. Press your hands on the tile above your head. And open your legs.”

  “What will you do then?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  “I want to know now, Nolan.” Her chest is rising and falling even faster now, letting me know her heart is beating fast. She’s scared. Really, truly scared.

  “Do it and I’ll show you. You know you want to. Or you’d be out of here. And don’t give me some stupid excuse that you have no ride or you’re on the wrong side of the country. If you think I’d strand you with no ride home, then I don’t want you here.”

  I wait her out as she considers her options, but the seconds tick off and I know she won’t make a decision unless I push her. “Decide, Ivy. I’ve got better ways to spend the day than standing here in the shower waiting for you. How will you ever be in charge of anything if you can’t make your own decisions?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Who said anything about fair? Fuck fair. If life was fair, I’d have my college degree right now. If life was fair, my father would still care about me. If life was fair, I wouldn’t have been accused of rape. Life has never been fair. Not for me. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Ivy

  I shouldn’t believe him. I should just push him away, put my clothes on, and demand that he takes me home.

  The problem is… I don’t want to do any of that. The problem is… I want to do everything he just commanded. The problem is I feel powerless and powerful in the same instant.

  I can walk out or I can make him do things to me that most people only dream about. I can stand firm and go home wanting or I can give in and go home satisfied. I can learn his secret or I can remain ignorant.

  I turn around. I stretch my arms up, my breasts rising with the motion, and place my palms flat on the cold marble tile.

  And I open my legs.

  Nolan bends down and I get nervous. I look over my shoulder and I’m sure I’m going to pass out from the fear coursing through my veins, and the steam I have to inhale, and the heat that surrounds my body.

  Nolan places both of his hands flat on my ass cheeks, spreading them apart. His tongue darts in and licks. Not my asshole, not my pussy, but somewhere in between. “That,” Nolan says, “is a beautiful fucking sight.”