Wild Eyes (The Barrington Billionaires Book 2)

by Danielle Stewart

  “I stopped looking,” she admitted, her eyes filling with tears she couldn’t really label. They weren’t angry tears or sad tears. Just an overflow, like a valve had sprung a leak. She’d spent plenty of nights imaging what she would say to Pierre if their paths crossed again. Some versions were angry, violent even. Others arguments she’d crafted were quietly defiant and cool. But when faced with the reality the only thing she had were weak knees and drippy eyes.

  “I never stopped looking,” he replied fiercely. “And it’s not out there. There is nothing that burns as hot as we did. There is nothing.”

  “Pierre,” she said, now completely giving herself over to the tears. “Please don’t do this.”

  “I have to Jessica. I have to. The moment I let you go I knew it was wrong, and I’ve spent the last five years being so very wrong. Life is different now. You are grown. I am free. Come away with me.”

  “What?” Jessica gasped, finally pulling away slightly, but his tight grip kept her from running. “Are you out of your mind? You think I’ll just run off with you again because you ask?”

  “Our timing was not right, but now, now it is. We can have it all back, and it can work this time. Come away with me. Give me back the best part of my life. The part I lost.”

  “You didn’t lose me, Pierre. I wasn’t some trinket you misplaced. You broke me. Destroyed me.”

  “Oh Pet,” he choked out, forcing her back into his arms completely. With those two words Jessica’s stomach flipped on itself. It wasn’t just a name he once called her; Pet was a person who could walk around and stand beside her. Pet was a girl Jessica today would look at with pity. Pet believed a man like Pierre could be the faithful hero in her love story. Someone that naïve deserved a fast slap across the face. Movie style, to break her out of her frantic trance. But Jessica knew back then no amount of slaps, or logic, or warnings would have broken her from the grip of Pierre’s attention.

  “I’m so very sorry. Please believe how sorry I am. But come with me. Come with me and let me make it up to you.” He grabbed her chin and tipped her head up so she couldn’t avoid his stare. “Your tears are like acid on my heart.”

  “I can’t,” Jessica asserted, but her falling tears betrayed the strength she was mustering. “Please don’t do this Pierre. Please don’t give me this option.”

  “Because you can’t say no?” He smiled at the idea she was crushing under the weight of her desires. Pierre’s drug was control. Not through force or violence, he was too sophisticated and cultured for that. Somewhere along the way he’d learned there were more elegant ways to get people to do exactly what he wanted.

  “Then don’t. Don’t say no.” His eyes were wide like an excited child set for a new adventure. “Think only of the nights, all those nights we spent in each other’s arms. The promises we made that can finally come true. I can give you everything.”

  “Pierre, please don’t.” Like a spinner in a board game, her emotions kept rotating and landing somewhere different. She was overwhelmed. Then hurt. Disappointed in herself. Angry. And with each word he spoke, another spin of the arrow.

  “Jessica,” Mathew’s voice boomed behind them, crushing their hushed and intimate whispers. “Come with me.”

  “She’s dancing.” Pierre’s voice was suddenly harsh, and he didn’t spare Mathew a glance.

  “She’s crying,” Mathew countered through gritted teeth.

  “You wouldn’t understand this,” Pierre spat out. “A bullheaded fool like you couldn’t understand what love can do to a person. How much you can cry over something so beautiful.” Pierre’s eyes were locked on Jessica, as though Mathew didn’t exist, and he was answering a question that hadn’t been asked.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Mathew said, forcefully pulling Pierre back and creating some distance between he and Jessica. “But this bullheaded fool will knock your ass to the ground if you don’t back up.”

  “She doesn’t want to stop,” Pierre argued, gesturing wildly at Jessica. “Tell him, Pet. Tell him you want to dance. Dance with me and decide the answer to my question. You know I’m right.”

  “This is done.” Mathew put his body directly between them, his wide back facing Pierre.

  “He doesn’t understand this, Jessica. He couldn’t know this kind of love.” Pierre spoke in a desperate frenzy, clearly understanding that whether he acknowledged him or not, Mathew was a formidable opponent.

  Mathew dipped his head down and locked eyes with Jessica, trying to reconnect, pull her back to reality. “Love doesn’t make you feel the way you do right now. It’s all over your face. It’s not supposed to make you hurt like this. Come with me.”

  Jessica fell into the memory of Pierre the way someone would dive into a pool, recklessly and with no regard for hitting the bottom. But there was a bottom, a pain awaiting her that couldn’t be compared to anything else. And that pain was what Mathew could see on her face even if she couldn’t speak it.

  “Come with me,” Mathew insisted again, but he didn’t tug her. He extended his hand and left it there for her to take if she wanted.

  “He’s a fool,” Pierre said, sidestepping Mathew and reaching for her hand before she could connect with Mathew’s. “No one will ever love you the way I loved you. No one will know the pieces of you I have known. You already believe that. You already understand that I am the earth and you are the stars. I can’t live in the dark anymore.”

  Jessica yanked her hand down, the fog that Pierre had the power to trap her in was lifting. And she could tell Mathew had had enough. “You’re about to see stars. You’re upsetting her. Back the fuck up.”

  “I will give you everything, Jessica,” he said, ignoring Mathew. “I will give you everything.”

  “Then give her a fucking minute,” Mathew shouted, shoving him backward. “If you’re so damn worried about her, back up and let her catch her breath. If you really cared, you wouldn’t be in her face right now.”

  “It’s supposed to hurt like this. That’s how you know it’s worth it,” Pierre explained, pulling her body against his again.

  “No,” she said through a cry and that had been the permission Mathew must have been waiting for. Grabbing him by the throat, he squeezed tightly and yanked him backward. Jessica watched as Pierre was lifted off the ground for a second like a rag doll.

  “She said no,” Mathew hissed, tossing him backward and tucking Jessica behind him. “I officially want to kick your ass now. A minute ago I just wanted you to back off, but now I want to bash your head in. Give me a reason to. I’m begging you.”

  Pierre backed up slowly, but his eyes were still fixed on the parts of Jessica that peeked out from behind Mathew. “Jessica, this is the fate that’s always been waiting for us. Nothing will ever make sense in your life again until we find what we lost.”

  “Let’s go,” Mathew said, again extending his hand for her to choose to come with him.

  “You can’t avoid this,” Pierre called to their backs as they walked away. “Any man who tries to keep us apart will fail. Fail miserably to his own detriment.”

  Mathew stopped so abruptly Jessica crashed into his shoulder. “Don’t,” she pleaded. “It’s complicated.”

  “There is nothing complicated about being threatened.” He cut the distance between Pierre and him like a lion charging at its prey. “You clearly don’t know Jessica the way you think you do,” Mathew growled. “She’s got a brain in her head and enough fight in her to take down an army. I don’t need to keep her apart from anything. But you better believe if she wants you out of her life I’ll make sure it sticks. Find out who you’re talking to before you start throwing threats around.”

  “I will have her,” Pierre replied coolly. “Whoever you are, whatever you think you know of her, you are wrong. And you will be sorry.”

  “Pierre,” Mathew laughed from a deep place in his throat, “it’s not often we get to pinpoint a moment in time when we truly fuck with the wrong person, and it destroys
us. How lucky you are to be able to know this was the moment you poked the bear and got your fucking head ripped off. I’m leaving with Jessica. Cross me again or decide to puff your chest out and make a threat against me or anyone in my life, and I will have you praying for death.”

  Pierre opened his mouth to speak, but Mathew cut him off. “Death. You’ll be begging for it.”

  Mathew spun, found Jessica’s hand again, and led her quickly in the other direction. “Come on,” he said, heading out the rear of the banquet hall, through the kitchen, and out the back door to a street she didn’t recognize. He laced his fingers in hers and they walked quickly, as though fleeing the pain in her heart, like he could carry her far enough away from it that she might forget it ever existed.

  When the world and the buildings opened up around them, she saw they were in Hudson Park, a popular place to jog and picnic. It was deserted this time of night. “What are we doing?” she asked through the still flowing tears.

  “Sit,” he said, leading her to a bench and helping her settle on it, then sitting close to her side. He was supposed to ask what the hell that was about. He was supposed to tell her she’d embarrassed him at an important event. But he didn’t. Lifting an arm, he tucked her against his chest and held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her. “It’s all right.”

  Mathew wasn’t like Pierre. Flowery words didn’t weave together from his tongue and form some kind of blanket to throw over your better judgment. There was never a smoke screen. He was exactly what and who he said he was. No games. So if he said it was all right, all right to break down, to be in his arms, and to feel the feelings bursting inside her, then she believed it was all right.

  Her hands flew to her eyes, and she turned her face into the hard mass of his chest. When the shudders of her sobs shook her body, he steadied her. It went on and on. Him whispering it’s all right. Her sobbing.

  “I’m so sorry,” she choked out.

  “Don’t be,” he insisted. “Whatever that was, it didn’t seem like you had much control over it.”

  “Don’t you want to know? Don’t you have a million questions?”

  “Sure,” he shrugged as she sat up and wiped her cheeks, her smeared mascara a lost cause. “But I want you to be able to stop crying. The only thing I want more than that is to beat the shit out of that guy.”

  “No,” she said, clutching his tensed bicep. Mathew could pound Pierre into the ground cartoon style. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

  “Did I read that situation wrong? I only stepped in because—”

  She cut his words off with a kiss, her hand grasping at his cheek, pulling him desperately toward her. She hadn’t planned it, didn’t know a second before it happened that it was coming. But now that it was happening it felt like it was what the entire night, maybe all of her life, had been leading up to. Mathew was a good, powerful, yet kind man. Seeing Pierre had reminded her of every kiss she’d shared all around the world with him. She needed to believe there were other lips that could make those old kisses become distant pale memories. And Mathew was certainly doing that.

  When she pulled away, she kept her hand on his cheek, her forehead still touching his, as they stared at each other. Maybe the fight to keep Mathew at a distance wasn’t the right place to direct her energy. Suddenly the fear of falling for him was outweighed by the fear of losing him.

  “You are a very complicated woman,” Mathew whispered, moving in and kissing her again, brushing his lips against hers. “You’re either pissing me off, running away, confusing the shit out of me, or—”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, realizing how much of a mess she’d been.

  “Or making me desperate to get you back to my place.” He laughed. “You should be easy to steer clear of, to convince myself you are more trouble than you’re worth.”

  “You have no idea.” She sighed. “It’s almost unfair how little you understand me.”

  “Then tell me,” he said, brushing her midnight black bangs away from her face. “Tell me what I need to know about you. You don’t have to convince me to put up with you; I’m already convinced. But tell me what I don’t know about you.”

  “Where would I start?” She laughed, breathy and defeated.

  “The beginning. Tell me all of it.”

  “Everything?” she asked, cocking a brow as she looked up at him skeptically.

  “Everything. Why not? We’re just two grown people hanging out on a bench like homeless folks. What better time?”

  “I’m not ready,” she admitted, covering her lips with her hands, keeping more words from spilling out.

  “I’ll wait.”

  Chapter 8

  Jessica’s job at a slow-paced romcom movie had ended that Saturday and with it went her steady income. She’d likely have to do some traveling or take some low-level jobs in order to stay afloat until the next gig opened up nearby. That was the tough thing about her kind of work; it was always feast or famine. She’d blown through her savings last year when she decided to stay in Texas, and no decent-sized movies were being filmed in the state. But right now none of that mattered. The timing didn’t feel frustrating; it felt perfect. No work meant whatever the hell was happening between her and Mathew could have some time to grow without having to work weird hours or travel.

  “Is this a small enough gesture?” Mathew asked, as he stood at her front door holding a bouquet of flowers.

  Jessica swung the door open the rest of the way and motioned toward her tiny studio apartment. “They’ll take up half of this place,” she argued but broke into a smile. “They’re perfect. You didn’t need to do that.”

  “I promised you a normal date where we could finally talk. So I’m thinking dinner at Luciana’s. He has a table he keeps in the back that’s very quiet.”

  “Sounds lovely,” she said, taking the flowers, already in a nice vase, and placing them on the table inside the door. “But I was thinking maybe we could stay here.”

  “Here?” he asked, unable to keep his eyes from roving around the tiny apartment. “But you’re ready to go out.” Mathew gestured at her beautiful long red raincoat with flashy gold buttons that was closed tight and cinched at the waist.

  “I thought we agreed to stop judging things so quickly.” She grinned and slowly unfastened each button on the coat, peeling it away to reveal nothing underneath.

  With a giant step forward, Mathew leaped into the house and shut the door behind him. “Fuck Luciana’s,” he said as he yanked off his own coat, his eyes fixed on her body. “Fuck the quiet table.”

  “Fuck me,” she said, slithering her way into his arms as he crushed her lips with his. The primal noises that overcame him were likely louder than normal as he had not seen this coming. He had probably planned for a nice dinner and lots of chatting, thoughtful listening that might end like this. But she was the kind of girl who felt the best part of being an adult was the freedom to eat dessert first if you wanted to. No one made the rules for her anymore.

  Mathew slipped out of his clothes as though someone had set fire to them. The hard planes of his chest and the small bulges of his abdominal muscles tensed. His caramel skin was smooth and ready to be clawed at. Still in his boxers, she felt as though she were waiting for the ribbon to be yanked off a present. Judging by the rigid spike stretching the cotton, she didn’t expect to be disappointed.

  Mathew stripped the last barrier away, kicking his boxers aside as they hit the floor. Well endowed would not be too generous a term. Jessica stifled a gasp as he backed her quickly to the nearest wall. His hands moved over her body, and instantly she could tell the kind of lover he would be. Too many men longed for nothing but completion. To be inside a woman was the only goal. Those men rarely had the staying power to enjoy their conquest. Hardly hanging in longer than the time it took to make some toast. Over before it started, Jessica would roll her eyes and wish she’d taken refuge in a pint of ice cream and a reliable vibrator.

  Mathew
however was no pitifully humping jackrabbit out to get his rocks off. He was skilled and forceful. His hands didn’t settle on the standard zones most men lingered on. Instead he was an explorer who knew a woman could be touched in the simplest places and still feel intense pleasure. His teeth nibbled at the nape of her neck, while his hands spun around her hair and tugged her head back, exposing her throat.

  For all her judging of the quick-to-fuck man, after a few minutes of his tantalizing, his hard rod brushing her teasingly, she began to beg. “I want you inside me,” she pleaded through a lusty moan. “I can’t wait until after dinner. I can’t wait another minute.”

  “I’m a greedy man,” Mathew answered as he tugged her hair again. “I get your body tonight, and I want it all. Every inch. Any fool can thrust inside you.” He ran his hardness between her thighs but pulled away. “None of them can do what I can do.” Mathew grabbed both her wrists in one hand, forcefully raised them over her head, and planted them against the wall. Holding her hands there, he kissed his way from her elbow to her breast, alternating between bites and swirls of his tongue as he moved down one side of her and up the other.

  “I’ll know every spot that makes you gasp and every move that makes you shudder with pleasure. Then when you can’t take another second, I’ll fuck you like you’ve never been fucked.”

  “Goddamn,” she breathed as she split her legs wide, a silent gesture begging him to dive into her but knowing by the firm tone in his voice he wouldn’t be swayed. Spinning her quickly like a Latin dancer she found her breast pinned suddenly against the cold wall as Mathew’s hands clamped down firmly on her ass, kneading the flesh as he hit his knees and kissed her back. When his tongue found the sensitive spot behind her knee she slapped the wall and cried out.

  “I like this spot,” he said, breathing against the slick skin. “We’re going to have so much fun.”