Cruel Seduction: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 2)

by Kelli Callahan

  I know Sebastian wants me, and he is playing the good guy. That makes me love him more, but if I have any more time wasted between us, I might as well grow silver hair and wrinkles and die a virgin. I am a grown woman, and it is time I have the chance to be one.

  I know what Kendrick had made me be wasn’t real for me. It was a character I played to keep him at bay, and I was ready to shed that skin and become someone stronger, someone better.

  Sebastian had been a key role in that for me. I depended on him in my mind more than I depended on myself, and I knew that wasn’t a good thing. I needed to learn to be on my own. That was one thing I wasn’t sure I could remember how to do.

  With a sigh and a pounding headache, the endorphins from my first orgasm in years faded quicker than I had wanted, and I walk to the window. I cross my arms and lean my head against the glass, watching the waves roll in sets of three and crash against the shore. Is that how my dead body ended up here?

  And out of everywhere I could have ended up, somehow, I landed on his doorstep. Some people don’t believe in first love, fate, destiny, or soul mates, but if my second chance at life tells me anything, it’s that I am meant to be here with Sebastian. I washed up on his beach for a reason, maybe by chance or coincidence, or maybe the universe had a higher power that I didn’t know about, but it left me wondering.

  The seagulls caw, a muted tone from behind the glass as they fly through the sky. The sun is set, seeping below the line of water edging against the sky as far as the eye can see. Oranges and pinks blend to create a picture no artist could ever recreate.

  This is my heaven.

  Sebastian isn’t about to lock me in hell. It would be a different kind of hell—a sexually tormented one, but I have endured too much with Kendrick, and I love Sebastian too much for him to be skittish.

  If anyone has the right to be skittish, it is me, but I am ready to lay on my back, legs spread for Sebastian to have his way with me.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I bang my head against the glass, hoping to knock an idea or two out of me, but I can’t think of anything.

  Sebastian is going to be difficult, thinking he has my best interest in mind, but doesn’t he know he is my best interest? Doesn’t he know he kept me alive all the years? I want him more than I need my next breath, and the last time I checked, breathing is essential for the human body.

  Sebastian is essential.

  Not like money or frivolous things, but like blood or water.

  A knock at the door sounds, and with a tired exhale, I urge whoever is on the other side to come in. “It’s open,” I say. At least, I thought it was. The handle jiggles, proving it isn’t unlocked like I thought. I hurry, putting a pep in my step, and look out the peep hole to see Quinn again. She has bags in her hands.

  I open the door wide, and she barges in with a big smile on her face. “Oh man, you should have seen Sebastian stomping down the hallway. I never in my life have seen him so discomposed.” Quinn tosses her head back, her blonde hair catching the faint light left from the sun burning through the window.

  “Sebastian is serious usually? Really?” That comes as a surprise to me. I know he had to be tough in prison, but when he was with me before Kendrick set him up to take the fall for something Sebastian didn’t do, Sebastian went out of his way to make me smile. He always joked, always made sure when he saw me, I smiled.

  Because every time he saw me, my willingness to smile disappeared along with the will to thrive because of Kendrick. When Kendrick got his brother out of the way and sent Sebastian to prison, that is when things got worse. The abuse, the weird language he’d use when he spoke to me, like how my behavior needed to be perfect or how much I was worth. It was like I was going to meet someone important.

  Quinn dumps the clothes on the bed and lays out a few shirts, jeans, new underwear, and tank tops with a built-in bra. I have small breasts, and tank tops work fine. “Sebastian is probably one of the most serious guys I have ever met. Obsessive too. All the guys here have their thing. Jaxon is intense. Owen is an asshole. Heaven is the flirt. Grayson is more of the quiet type. Sebastian is the serious one, the one who obsesses that everything needs to be perfect. He must know everything about everything. He seemed a bit flushed running down the hallway.” Quinn wiggles her brows, telling me she knows exactly what went on in this room.

  “Well, whatever happened in here fell short since he ran out as if he was terrified to touch me,” I say with a bit more of a bite then I intend. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude to you. It’s directed toward him.” I grab a pair of simple black silk panties and slip them on under my towel. “We finally have our chance, and he—” I stop speaking, not knowing what else to say. “I don’t know. His reaction took me by surprise is all.” Next, I wiggle into a black pair of comfortable joggers and then turn around, giving Quinn my back when I pull a crop top over my head. There is a statement on the front that says, “Ask me about wiener.” There is a hot dog floating beside it, and it makes me chuckle.

  “Can I tell you something, and you can either ignore it and call me crazy or think about?” Quinn asks, plopping down on the bed. She digs into the other bag and pulls out two beers and tosses me one.

  Beer.

  I haven’t had beer since before Sebastian went to jail. Kendrick wouldn’t allow me to drink. I twist off the top, and with a hesitant tilt, I pour the bitter bubbly concoction in my mouth and swallow cold, and my eyes water.

  And then I let out a loud, unlady-like burp. I gasp, horrified. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. It’s been years since I've had beer. I can’t stop drinking it. Jeez, you must think I’m disgusting.”

  Quinn giggles as she twists off the top of her beer, then she sets it down. “No, I think it’s refreshing to have another woman here. It’s me and those guys 24/7. I’m surrounded by testosterone.” She groans, laying dramatically on the bed with her arm over her face. “I keep forgetting I can’t drink because I’m pregnant. I’m not forgetting that I’m pregnant, but it’s still so hard to wrap my head around. Here, take mine.” The sigh that leaves Quinn is so sad, I almost feel bad for her.

  Almost.

  I squeal with excitement and crawl on the bed next to her as if she is my best friend. I haven’t had any female company since Kendrick, and I am long overdue. “You’re pregnant? Oh, wow. That’s amazing. How far along are you? When are you due? I’m so happy for you!” To be honest, I was a little envious too. I've wasted the prime years of my life on Kendrick, and I’m not even sure if I can get pregnant. I am older than Quinn, younger than Sebastian by a few years, but still, I have a yearning for children, and if Kendrick had his way, he’d take that from me too.

  He drugged me so many times, gave me so many pills, I don’t even know what they were. Who knows the damage that has been caused on the inside? Those are the scars no one can see, only the things I can feel.

  I happily snag the beer from her hand, double fisting the cold bottles. I haven’t done that since college.

  “Drink for me, new friend, for I am nothing but an incubator,” Quinn soughs theatrically and places the back of her hand on her forehead. “They better be cute.” She pokes her very flat stomach.

  My eyes almost fall out of my head. “They? You have more than one! I’m so jealous.”

  “You won’t be when I’m as big as this house. Jaxon always must out do himself. He couldn’t knock me up once, nope, he had to do it twice.”

  “Still, must be nice to be with someone like that. So open and carefree with respect and trust. It sounds comforting.” I sip my beer, ignoring Quinn’s pitiful gaze. She has a lot of questions but doesn’t want to offend me by asking. “You want to speak freely, remember?”

  “Ah, right.” She slaps her hands on the bed and sits up, wrapping her arms around her legs and lays her cheek against her knee. “Sebastian loves you, Gabriella. Really, genuinely loves you. The way Jaxon loves me. I know you don’t believe it because he just ran out of here like the devil was b
urning his heels, but that right there proves how much he loves you. He has searched for you ever since he got out of prison. Night and day. He set up alerts on his computer for women who have died. He filtered it by age and physical description. He wired into ever traffic camera. There was so much information, it was impossible for a man to do it all on his own, but he never gave up on you. Isn’t that what love means? Not giving up on the person you love. He did that for you, and while you found him instead of him finding you, I have never seen him happier than how he is with you. You’re ready to jump with him, but he is afraid that if he jumps with you, it will be too high of a jump and you’ll regret falling with him. He wants to give you time to heal.”

  “I don’t need time to heal. I just need him. I’ve had plenty of time to heal; living every day with a monster does that to someone. I know it seems impossible for me to want to move on, but I want to live again. I want my life to go back to normal. I can’t say I won’t have hard times, I know I will, but I want to spend them with Sebastian. Seven years is too long to go without him, I can’t go another seven years.”

  A wicked smile forms across Quinn’s lips as a plan unravels in her eyes. “You know, the guys are doing a game night. It’s typical for a Friday. Why don’t we go in and have fun? I’ll doll you up, tell them we are going to hit the small town of Trinidad and paint it red? Only not really because bars don’t really exist here; just a nice restaurant and a grocery store.”

  “I don’t want to leave the house.” The first thing I think of is Kendrick. He could find me. Right now, he has no idea where I am, and if I stay, within these four walls, he’ll never know.

  “We aren’t leaving. It will get Sebastian off your ass.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then I’ll have one of the other guys flirt with you, like Heaven. He’s harmless, but he will get the job done.”

  “I don’t want to make Sebastian jealous with another guy. Another guy has been between us already. That feels dirty. Why can’t I just go up to him and say I want him, and I don’t want to dance this dance without him?”

  “Because that’s what he is supposed to do to you, girly.” Quinn slaps my knee and stands, and by how she digs through her bottomless bag and pulls out makeup, I have a feeling what tricks she has up her sleeve aren’t going to work.

  Sebastian will not be the one to end this dance between us because he is afraid to hurt me. I have to take charge.

  I need to dig down deep and find the woman I used to be.

  I just hope I don’t chicken out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  SEBASTIAN

  All the guys are in the game room, drinking beer, and bullshitting. The TV plays a football game. Cowboys and the Patriots. Cowboys are losing. Go fucking figure. I hate the Patriots. I’m barely paying attention to the game anyhow. Every few minutes I drag myself out of the memory of Gabriella rubbing off on me and catch the score, then drown myself in another swallow of beer.

  What the fuck was I thinking pinning her to the wall like that? Kissing her, letting her hump me, for fuck’s sake, while I stared at her naked body. She must hate me right now. I am just as bad as my brother when it comes to having no control of myself.

  “Why are you so sulky? It’s game night, and you aren’t even the one with a broken leg,” Heaven says, sitting on the couch next to me.

  “Or arm,” Jaxon adds, taking the other spot to my left.

  Owen, for some fucking reason, is the only one who caught on to my mood and is giving me space. Grayson is a bit curious, but he keeps his eyes on the TV. Jaxon and Heaven? They are fucking annoying when it comes to someone in a mood.

  And that is downplaying it. I don’t know another word for what I feel. Guilty? Sick? Disgusting? A perv? Did I take advantage of her? The reality and the dreams are starting to mix again, and I'm not sure if I am overthinking what happened or if my paranoia is ruining it. What if what happened between us is just like my dream? There is a chance I am twisting things in my head.

  If I backtrack, she is the one who dropped the fucking towel, showing her treasure of a body that I want to possess and fucking cherish. I don't have it in me to fuck her, not before we get things out in the open. We have to get them out in the open, but maybe she thinks I am dragging my heels because I haven’t bent her over the table and had my way with her.

  How the hell can I do that when my brother used her in every which way possible? She has to understand my ease in to this; for her own good, not mine.

  “Thinking awfully hard there, brother.” Jax flicks the side of my temple, and I hiss, rubbing the side of my head with my hand.

  Jaxon is pushy and when he speaks, it means he wants to have conversation. He isn’t the kind of guy to say empty words without expecting a reply. He is the leader, so if he noticed something is on my mind, he will want to talk about it to clear the air and make sure I am alright. He is pesky.

  But I'm not alright.

  The woman I love is in the same house as me, finally, after so many years, and I am starting to think I am going to take advantage of her.

  “I’m fine,” I lie, not wanting to talk about this any further. “Who wants to play some air hockey?” I jump up from the couch and stand, making my way over to the table.

  “I’ll play.”

  My head jerks up to the door to see Gabriella.

  I drop the puck on the ground when she walks forward, my eyes glued on the curves of her hips as they sway from side to side. Black skinny jeans are painted onto her legs, and a crop top shows the lean lines of her abdomen and tan skin.

  The crop top is short.

  Too. Fucking. Short.

  My eyes narrow, and I shrug off my jacket and stalk over to her, throwing it around her shoulders. “You must be freezing. I can’t believe you’re wearing that,” I say a bit too harshly, cursing myself for how rude I sound. I don’t want Heaven to get a glimpse of her beautiful body. I zip up the jacket and stare at the shirt bunching up to her breasts.

  I really want to bury my face between them and move from left to right, licking and sucking the sweet pieces of candy until my fucking teeth ache.

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She sounds pissed, not hurt. Pissed.

  Which in women’s terms means she is hurt, but not in a crying way; in a “I want to slap you in the face’ kind of way.

  “Yeah, what’s wrong with what she’s wearing? I think she looks gorgeous,” Heaven says, shooting her a wink.

  A blush steals her cheeks, and she giggles. “Thank you, Heaven.”

  I turn my head over my shoulder and sneer at him, telling him to back off.

  “I just… Nothing is wrong with what you’re wearing.” Everything is wrong with it. Her body is on display for all to see, and my cock is growing harder by the second. She is tempting me, cracking the small amount of control I have. My mind is weak when it comes to Gabriella. She makes everything foggy, and stringing a thought together has become difficult.

  Gabriella jerks out of my hands, unzips my jacket, and tosses it in my face. “I like what I’m wearing.”

  Heaven claps, then whistles. “Me too!”

  I ball up the jacket and throw it at him like a baseball, smacking him right in the face. Gabriella doesn’t see. She is bent down, grabbing the puck I dropped on the floor and Heaven’s eyes fly from me to her ass.

  I stomp up next to him and lay my hand around the base of his neck, squeezing so hard, I know he feels pain. Pressure points are a fucking blessed curse. I bend down and turn his head to the side; the smug bastard has a smile on his face. “Stop looking at her, Heaven. Stop complimenting her. Just stop.”

  “Why? You aren’t. She’s been here five days, and you just give her space as if she’s a damn disease. Does it bother you? Do you think she’s your brother’s leftovers? Cause that’s fucked up, dude. She didn’t choose that life—”

  Before I can think, my fist lands across his mouth, wanting him to shut up. I don’t know
what came over me. I hate him talking about her like that, and it isn’t even about her, per se, but me thinking I view her in that way.

  Does everyone think this way? Does Gabriella think I don’t want her because I think she is used up? Just how low do people think of me?

  “Woah, what the fuck!” Jaxon shouts and runs to Heaven’s defense. Right, because he is the good guy who never does any wrong. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Jaxon lowers himself to the ground. “You okay, buddy?”

  Heaven licks the blood off his lip and laughs. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Gabriella’s soft, angel-like voice floats closer to us, and she walks behind the couch, and her head falls to Heaven’s shoulder. “I can’t believe he did that. That isn’t the Sebastian I know.”

  I clench my jaw and fists at the same time, doing my best not to burst and show how angry I am at everyone. I only want to cover up her body because I don’t want anyone else seeing it. I am only trying to be a good man by giving her time after my brother tortured her.

  But fuck me, right? I am the bad guy.

  “Well, maybe you don’t know me like you thought you did,” I say as I stalk toward the door of the game room.

  “Walk out that door, Sebastian Knight, and I will put rotten milk in your coffee.”

  Gabriella’s threat isn’t expected. And to most, it wouldn’t sound like a good one, but to me, it is one of the worst things anyone could ever say to me. I thrive off my coffee.

  “You won’t even notice. I’ll steal the milk from the fridge and keep it … for weeks!” she shrieks, taking a step forward with a finger up as she speaks. “I’ll make sure it gets so nasty and lumpy and smelly, that I will gag when I twist the cap off, and then when you aren’t looking, I’ll pour the chunky, rotten, goopy, and coagulated substance in your hot, steamy coffee. Then, with a kind smile, I’ll stir it until the clumps are gone and wish you a good fucking morning!” Gabriella shouts at me, really yells at me, something she has never done. Her chest rises and falls. Her attempt to frighten me into staying in the room is a weak one, a bit humorous and disgusting. It is the disgust that has me dropping my hand from the door.