Claiming My Vengeance

by Jessica Blake

  I climbed up on the bed and sat cross-legged, making sure my lady bits were covered, gratefully draining half the bottle.

  “Hungry?”

  He’d brought a tray of crackers, cheese, and strawberries, and the sight of the food was a reminder that I hadn’t eaten since room service at lunch. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll end up with cracker crumbs in your bed?” I asked as I grabbed a piece of what looked like white cheddar.

  “No.” Gabe bit into a strawberry, watching me.

  In fact, he watched me for so long, I grew uncomfortable beneath his appraisal. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He seemed to shake off whatever was on his mind. “Tell me why you left Chicago.”

  I dropped the strawberry I’d just picked up, my appetite gone, and took another sip of water.

  “Please.”

  At this point, it didn’t make any sense not to, but the warm afterglow I’d felt was wearing off. I scooched back against the pillows piled behind me, pulling the sheet up to cover my legs, like that would protect me from bad memories.

  Instead of looking at Gabe, I studied the room around me, lit only by a small lamp on his bedside table. The dim light didn’t quite reach the high ceilings, like those I’d caught a glimpse of on the main floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the soft glow of the city lights, warped through the rivulets of rain that still ran down the glass like tears. Thick, soft carpet in a dark gray. A dark wood desk in one corner with a couple of framed pictures on it. I wondered who they were of. Gabe switched off the lamp.

  I was glad. It was easier to talk in the darkness, I found.

  “After my mom died, when I was sixteen, everything changed. My mom married Joel when I was about six, I think because he pursued her, trying to dazzle her with his money, and she wouldn’t give it up without marriage. She wanted to provide a more stable life for me. We were living hand to mouth.”

  I picked up my water bottle, tracing patterns in the condensation on the sides, to give myself something to do with my hands.

  “My mom had always been bubbly, fun, and outgoing, but by the time I was around ten or eleven, she was more serious. She didn’t laugh as much. Joel always treated me well. He spoiled me like he spoiled my mom, but it was in a casual, offhand way. Like, he’d hand me a present when he came home from a business trip, then pat my head and send me on my way. By the time I was a teenager, it occurred to me that my mom wasn’t happy. I never saw her fight with Joel, but she was always lighter when he was gone. She took antidepressants. I… I was a selfish teenager. I was too busy enjoying everything that came along with being a spoiled rich kid to pay much attention.”

  “Teenagers are all like that,” Gabe put in quietly.

  “Well, this teenager ignored the signs of her mom’s depression until she found her mother floating face down in the pool.” I closed my eyes at the remembered horror, seeing Bridget’s dark red hair waving around her head like tentacles in the currents of water.

  Gabe placed a hand on my thigh, squeezed through the sheet. His palm was warm against my suddenly cold skin. “You don’t have to tell me this.”

  “That’s okay.” I laughed but the sound was dark and without humor. “You did ask.”

  In the semi-darkness, he stroked my thigh. Pure comfort, nothing sexual. “I did. And you can tell me as much or as little as you want.”

  Tenderness for this almost stranger hit me like a wave, and I realized I did want to tell him. After all, he’d been hurt by the same family, giving us a connection that couldn’t be denied.

  “After the funeral, Joel didn’t wait long before he started openly dating other women. I became less of a person in his house to be indulged, and more of a nuisance. I tried to stay out of his way as much as I could. I also avoided Devlin like the plague. He’d always ignored me, but once I hit about twelve years old, he watched me constantly. It made me uncomfortable. He was nineteen at the time.”

  Gabe growled low in his throat, and I placed my hand on his, comforting him right back.

  When he said nothing, I went on, “My mom had a life insurance policy, about one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and it came to me just before I turned seventeen, right after I graduated. It had taken a while, since there was a question about whether she had committed suicide. There had been a lot of pills in her system, but it was finally deemed an accidental death. I had already started making plans to leave when I overheard him and Devlin one night. He was talking about how this guy that he’d talked into investing in some property was about to lose all his money. I listened longer and realized he was using your company as a front to cheat people. And then I heard them talking about me.”

  I closed my eyes, could see that moment clearly in my memory.

  My heart had been pounding so hard it’d made it difficult to hear everything the two had been saying. But the coldness in Joel’s voice had chilled me to the bone.

  “You know, you might as well fuck the little bitch now. I know you’ve been wanting to. Marry her, like I did her mom, and then you’ll get her pretty little pussy to do whatever you want with, whenever you want it. She’s got that money too, to sweeten the deal for you.”

  I’d been frozen in the hallway and didn’t hear anyone moving on the other side of the wall until the door swung open and Devlin was there, coming face to face with me. When I tensed to run, he grabbed my arm and yanked me into the room, throwing me off balance, and I tripped, landing on the floor of Joel’s study.

  I could still see the opulent room, gaudily decorated in crimson with brass accents. My mom had overseen the decorating of the rest of the house, and it was beautiful and classy, but this room was all Joel. I remembered thinking as I hit the carpet that the old saying was true. Money couldn’t buy good taste.

  I remembered the feel of Devlin’s knee in my back, picturing his fleshy jowls quivering in that way he had. His meaty hands sliding between my legs and grabbing hard.

  My stepfather had only laughed. “Put down a blanket so you don’t mess up my carpet.” He stared down at me. “And make sure that she didn’t hear anything she shouldn’t have. And if she did, make sure she knows to keep her mouth shut.”

  Then he simply walked out.

  I hadn’t been able to believe it. He was sanctioning whatever was going to happen next. And I’d known what was going to happen next.

  Devlin rolled me over and started slapping me, grabbing me, pinching and bruising. He laughed and sneered as he did it, calling me a thousand dirty names.

  I had been dizzy and sick… then had grown furious and started fighting back. By chance more than anything, I brought my knee up between his legs, catching him hard in the balls. He’d grabbed himself, rolling over, and I’d somehow gotten to my feet, staggering toward the terrace doors. I made it out and half-climbed, half-fell over the cement wall that separated the terrace from the lawn. My shirt was gone, having been torn off, and I was afraid to run for the road, but I could hear Devlin screaming behind me that he was going to kill me.

  Our house was in a gated community, and I didn’t want to go to any of the neighbors or try to get out, so I ended up hiding in someone’s toolshed a few houses down, crying and terrified that Joel or Devlin would find me. It was small, dark, and spidery, and smelled like lawnmower gas. I had my first panic attack there, and it was years before I could smell gasoline without freaking out.

  The feel of Gabe’s hand on my back, rubbing soothing circles, brought me back to his room, his bed, and made me realize that I was about to talk myself into a panic attack right then. I slowed my breathing in the way that I’d been practicing for years until my heart rate returned to normal.

  “How did you get out of there?” Gabe’s voice was soft in the darkness. He sounded calm, matter-of-fact almost, like I was telling him about a movie I’d seen, and I appreciated him for it.

  Drinking the last of my water, I set the bottle down next to me.

  “I sat there in that toolshed until probably two o’clock in t
he afternoon, when a gardener opened the door. I don’t know who was more afraid, me or him. He only spoke Spanish, but I’d done a few semesters in school and could understand some of what he said. I was hysterical. I told him no policia, and I refused to leave the toolshed, so he called his daughter to come.

  “She helped me. She brought me a shirt. She went by my house to make sure Joel and Devlin were gone. She went in with me because I was so afraid.

  “My room had been destroyed, mattress ripped to shreds, mirrors smashed, pictures mutilated. My dresser drawers emptied and the clothes on the floor smelled like urine, but they’d left the closet and the dirty clothes hamper alone, so I was able to grab a couple changes of dirty clothes, a small box in the closet of little things that had belonged to my parents.

  “On my way out, I grabbed Joel’s laptop and a handful of files. And then, since my car keys were gone, the gardener’s daughter drove me to the train station and I bought a one-way ticket to Detroit. I never even asked her name, but I still remember her saying, over and over, ‘Madre de Dios,’ when she saw what they’d done to my room.”

  I didn’t cry, having cried out these particular tears years before, but I finished the last in a hurry, wanting it to be done.

  “I’m the one they were talking about on the news, who sent the information to the FBI and the IRS. I’m the anonymous source.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Gabe

  I wanted to punch something.

  Granted, it wasn’t an unusual feeling for me, but after Liv had finished her story, I’d simultaneously wanted to stop her from talking and hear it all at once, and now the tide of rage rising inside had me clenching my jaw, and my fists tight.

  But I had to take a page out of her book and keep it calm. Low-key.

  “I promised you a tour. Would you like it now?”

  She gave a short, surprised laugh. “Sure. Are you going to put pants on, or is everyone around here used to the crazy naked billionaire who wanders around with the lights on up in his penthouse?”

  “Well,” I said, snapping on the lamp on the nightstand and getting out of bed. I crossed to my closet to dig out a pair of underwear. “Directly across the street is the park, but I suppose there could be people wandering around. And to the back of my place is another apartment building. But it’s almost two in the morning. I think I’ll risk it.”

  I led her out of the bedroom and down the hall, to the second bedroom that I’d converted to a gym. I had done the floor in bamboo hardwood, and there was a mirrored wall, a thick mat on the floor, a set of free weights and a couple of multifunction weight machines. Her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome to use it anytime.” The gym, too, had its own bathroom.

  The penthouse had a simple floor plan, only the two rooms on the second floor and three on the main, but it was spacious. Downstairs included a living area, set up with a big screen and comfortable couches, and the kitchen I barely used connected with a dining area behind that.

  “Nice,” Olivia said in the kitchen, checking out the Wolf range. “Looks brand new, almost,” she teased. “Don’t you cook?”

  “I made macaroni and cheese there last week.”

  “Really?”

  I grinned. “No. But I heated it up. Takeout. That counts, right?”

  She gave her eyes a dramatic roll. “Sure.”

  Liv sat on one of the barstools at the marble countertop, and when her shirt hitched up, I tried not to look. But the shadowed area between her thighs was intriguing.

  “Did you do this building?”

  “I did. One of the perks of running the company that rehabs the building is designing something that suits me. And one of the perks of owning the building is that I get a good deal on rent.”

  One side of her mouth lifted in a small smile. “If you’re not sending me back to the hotel tonight, I’d really like to try out that fancy shower I saw in your bathroom.”

  Now that I had her here, I wasn’t sending Olivia back to the hotel at all, but I decided to wait a little while to have that particular conversation. I liked this teasing mood of hers too much.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, putting some doubt in my voice. “The shower settings are really tricky.”

  The smile grew a little bit wider. “Maybe you could show me how to use them?”

  She was a quick learner.

  I’d never had any special feelings toward my shower, but showering with Liv was a whole different experience. Several different jets mounted to the walls surrounded us with steam and soft spray, while the two giant showerheads mounted above kept up a steady, warm rain over our heads.

  When it was wet, Olivia’s hair streamed almost to her waist, black and silky, running down her back and over her breasts. After what she told me, I was feeling protective and almost possessive, but I’d never tell her that.

  It gave her a certain level of leverage, but I instinctively understood that she’d bolt if she knew. I showed her instead, lathering my hands with shower gel and skimming them over her, exploring her back, her breasts, the cleft between her ass cheeks, finally touching her where she wanted most.

  I made her come twice with my soap-slippery hands before I had her kneeling on the bench mounted to the wall at the back of the shower, her knees cushioned on a towel, and took her from behind. My hands kneaded her delectable round ass as she milked the last drop from me with the rhythmic spasms of her orgasming pussy.

  She was weak and exhausted, so I took over with the towels, rubbing her dry, squeezing the water out of her hair. I carried her to bed, where she curled up on her side, and I fit myself against her back, ignoring the partial erection nestled against her ass. She snuggled back into me and yawned.

  “You’re staying here with me,” I said quietly in the darkness.

  “Mmmm.”

  “I’ll have someone bring your things over tomorrow from the hotel.”

  She tensed, as if she was going to sit up, but I draped an arm across her waist to keep her from going anywhere. “That’s not nec—”

  “You were almost killed tonight. Maybe it was a drunk driver, maybe it wasn’t. I do know that Devlin hates you. He’s a twisted fuck, and if he is still in town, I don’t want you running into him.” I lowered my voice and nuzzled the side of her neck. “Indulge me,” I said, breathing the words against her skin. “Stay here until this is over.”

  I could tell Liv wanted to argue, but I nipped at the side of her neck, soothing the spot with my tongue after. The arm I’d thrown over her had put me in the perfect position to cup her breast, and I squeezed gently, nudging between her thighs with my cock. I was always eager, but as I’d found out tonight, damn near insatiable.

  She sighed, and the tension left her shoulders as she parted her legs to let me slide in. This time was slower, and once I was buried deep, I kept my movements controlled and measured, dragging out her pleasure.

  I’d come so many times already, I felt like I could probably go for hours, but she was so tight around my cock in this position and the feel of her skin heating and her nipples pebbling against my palm… the tiny sounds she made trying not to cry out…

  I increased my pace as I felt her breathing speed up, coming inside her at the exact moment she hit her peak. I fell asleep still nestled inside Olivia, one last thought vibrating through my head.

  I didn’t want her to leave.

  ***

  A few hours later, I woke with the sun and eased out from under her. Olivia’s long legs were tangled up in mine, her arm thrown over my chest. I had to leave for the office, but seeing her sleeping, the sheet around her waist and the pale curve of her back glowing in the sunrise, it was harder than it should have been to walk away.

  I picked up the remote from the nightstand and touched a button. The blinds slid silently down, leaving the bed shadowed again, and I left the room. I was dressed and drinking my second cup of coffee when she came out of the bedroom.

  “Oh, you’re wearing a suit and tie,” she smil
ed, looking a bit self-conscious as she tugged at the hem of the t-shirt. “I feel underdressed.”

  “You look good to me.”

  It was true. Sleep-flushed, hair tangled, long legs bare. I didn’t want to stop and analyze the surge of possession I felt. It pissed me off. This was a temporary situation, convenient for both of us, but with an expiration date. Just because she was fascinating and complex and sexy as hell didn’t mean I was ready to hand over complete trust in her and start picturing a future together.

  I’d made that mistake before, and I needed to remember that.

  “I’ve got to head out. Your stuff should be delivered from the hotel in the next hour or so. I called ahead and told the front desk, and they’ll sign for it and leave it outside the door. I’ll text you when it arrives.”

  “I’m capable of going down there myself.”

  “You’re staying here.” The words came out harsher than I’d intended. No, that wasn’t true. I actually intended to do or say whatever necessary to keep her ass right there. “I don’t want you going anywhere.”

  Liv crossed her arms, and her eyes narrowed. “Don’t get any ideas because of last night.”

  “Ideas?” I raised an eyebrow at her. Was she spoiling for an argument? Because I’d be more than happy to oblige.

  “Just because I slept with you and you got me to agree to stay here in a… moment of weakness, that does not give you the right to dictate my life like you do with everyone else in your orbit.”

  “I want you where I can keep an eye on you.”

  She slid her tongue over her teeth, a signal of how pissed off she was. “Easy access to a quick fuck too?”

  “I’ve always got easy access to a quick fuck if I want one.” Deliberately, insultingly, I smiled at her. “Don’t be jealous, and don’t make this out to be more than it is.” I wanted to knock her back a peg, put some distance between us, and before I considered the words, they were out. I could see I’d hurt her the second she flinched, her face going a shade paler before she straightened her shoulders.