Resist

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Resist Page 7

by Missy Johnson


  “I have a few things to organize, but I’d like to see you after I’m done,” I say in a softer, friendlier tone.

  A small smile spreads across her lips as she relaxes. “Are you asking me or telling me?” Any hint of the emotion she showed a moment ago is gone.

  “I’m asking you,” I begin, my lips twitching into a grin. “But if that fails, I have no issues telling you what to do. You do work for me, after all.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you later.” She hesitates, looking up at me. “Am I free to go now?”

  I nod and watch as she pulls away from me, going back through the doorway that leads to her room. I have no idea what she’s thinking, and to be honest, I don’t really care right now. I have more important things on my mind, like bringing down Ryan. The one thing in my life that has become an obsession, that I will go to any lengths to accomplish, no matter the price I have to pay. It will be worth it to see this to the end.

  I need her to do what I ask and not question it. I won’t let myself be distracted by seeing her as anything other than a means to an end, because if I did that, I know I’d be risking everything.

  I slam my office door closed behind me, lock it, and then check once again that it is indeed locked. I’m scrupulous about my privacy. Walking over to the far wall, I gently ease the expensive piece of framed artwork from the wall, revealing the safe that sits behind it.

  I unlock it, reach inside, and pull out the files I keep hidden there, containing every tiny piece of information on my family’s death, from newspaper clippings to police reports to the letters only I know about, apart from my parents…and Ryan, of course.

  Rage boils inside me as I sift through the papers; each moment I spend thinking about this only fuels my need for revenge. A photo of Ana falls out and I pick it up, my heart constricting at her sweet, innocent smile. My little sister. Seven years younger than me, she would’ve been twenty-three tomorrow. I struggle to think of her any other way than as the sweet child I remember her to be, following me everywhere. She idolized me.

  She trusted me to protect her and I let her down.

  Sinking into my seat, I hunch over my desk, cradling my head in my hands. I just want it all to stop. The nightmares, the guilt of not having been able to save them. I just want everything to fucking end. I’m so sick of living this way, but it’s the only way I know how to live. That’s the thing about revenge. It consumes you; it becomes your everything and nothing else matters.

  My life has become about them…about what I lost…what he took from me.

  I’ve known exactly what happened that night for fifteen years.

  Every night I relive the same nightmare, moment by moment. It never changes, nor does it ever get easier to handle. The police may have no idea who killed my family, but I do. I know exactly what went down and who’s responsible. Maybe he wasn’t directly involved, but without his actions, they’d still be alive today.

  If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that that person is going to pay.

  Chapter 10

  Charlotte

  What am I doing?

  It’s the next morning and I lie in my bed, fingering the soft, delicate fabric of the duvet that covers me. I’ve been awake for hours—hell, I’m even dressed—but I can’t yet drag myself out of bed. I’m not ready to begin the day.

  Or not able to face it.

  He summoned me to his room last night. I waited for nearly an hour outside his door, but he never showed. When I finally gave up and left, the disappointment I felt shocked me. How much I look forward to any opportunity to spend time with him is beginning to scare me.

  I groan and bury my head in my pillow. Surely no job is worth this, whatever it is I’m putting myself through. I’m not the kind of girl who can just have meaningless sex. I’ve never been that girl. I’m the girl who reads into every feeling and every emotion, and being with Jaxon is no exception. I can remind myself a thousand times why I’m here, but it won’t stop me from wanting those lips on my neck or his strong, muscular embrace around me.

  I just can’t read him. I convince myself there has to be more to him, especially when I see glimpses of the man I’m sure he can be, but then he acts like he did last night and I wonder if I’m even seeing the worst of him. What if this is him playing nice? What he did to that poor girl for the sake of getting back at her father…I laugh. Who am I to talk? It’s not like I’m innocent in all of this. I’m using him to get what I want. But somehow what I’m doing and what’s he’s doing are very different, aren’t they?

  My phone vibrates from where it sits on the bedside table. I reach for it and see that it’s Jess. I answer, careful to keep my voice low, just in case somebody is listening.

  “Hey,” I say, unable to hide my grin. I miss her so much already. Hearing from her is just what I needed: familiarity. I feel lost being separated from my family and friends. I miss my life.

  “Don’t ‘hey’ me. Why haven’t I heard from you?” she screeches.

  I laugh, holding the phone away from my ear until her tone returns to normal. “I called you yesterday but you didn’t answer.”

  “Oh yeah. I had a date. He turned out to be a dud,” she mutters. “Anyway, you’re alive. That’s a plus. And he hasn’t confiscated your phone. He’s obviously a keeper.”

  “Jess, you’re an idiot,” I say with a laugh, shaking my head fondly. “But I’m glad you called. I miss you guys.”

  “Yeah, we miss your ugly face too. How are things really going? You sound a little down. Is the sex that bad?” she asks, her tone half serious. “I mean, murderer and all, please don’t ruin my fantasy of that man in the sack. I hear the sex is worth dying for—well, that’s what I read in an interview with one of his ex ‘girls.’ ”

  I groan, burying my face in my hands.

  “Okay, okay, I’m done, I promise. How is it? Everything, not just the sex.”

  I sigh and roll over, pulling my knees up to my waist. “I’m just worried this is all a really stupid idea,” I mumble, rubbing my forehead.

  “Are you scared he’ll hurt you, Char?” Just like that the jokes stop. I smile, knowing Jess will always have my back. I can always count on her. “Because if you feel like you’re in danger—”

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” I interrupt hastily. “I just…He’s not a bad guy, Jess. I see sides to him that I’m not sure many other people do, and…” My voice trails off and I laugh again. I’m making no sense.

  “Are you worried you’re going to develop feelings for this guy?” Jess asks, her tone one of shock.

  I don’t answer. Instead I sigh.

  “Dude, you really want to tread carefully. Not just because of who he is but because of why you’re doing this. What happens when the story breaks?”

  “I know. It’s silly. I’m ridiculous. Fuck, I’m a mess,” I mumble. I need to do everything I can to stop myself from becoming too involved. I’m treading on thin ice. I can feel myself being drawn to him—way more than I should be.

  “Look, don’t do anything silly,” she instructs. “Take a few days to really think about what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Then, if you need to, decide where you want this…whatever it is…to go. And for God’s sake, if you’re in danger of, well, anything, call me!”

  “Okay,” I agree, not sure what else I can do. “I’ll call you in a few days. Love you.”

  I hang up the phone but don’t move from my position on the bed. My head is a jumble of thoughts that I’m too tired to try to unravel. A slight rap sounds on my door.

  I jump up and straighten my shirt before I walk over and open it. I’m expecting to see Marina, here to tell me Jaxon would like to see me. I’m still not sure what her deal is, but she seems to always be around. Nothing is ever too much for her when it comes to Jaxon. My eyes widen as I open the door and see him standing there. How long has he been there?

  “I thought it was easier for me just to come and get you,” he says, his voice low an
d gravelly. Easier? Since when does easy matter to Jaxon Murphy? I narrow my eyes and stare at him, looking for any indication that he’s not telling the whole truth.

  “Is Marina not here?” I ask, studying his face for signs that he might’ve overheard my conversation with Jess. He chuckles and runs a hand through his thick, dark hair. I relax, my breathing slowing to a normal rhythm.

  “Marina is always here. Are you ready, or are you going to make me wait? Because I don’t like waiting, Charlotte.” He clicks his tongue, his dark eyes penetrating me. God, how can I feel so exposed by just a look?

  “I’m ready,” I say, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind me. I run a hand over my clammy skin. Why am I suddenly so damn hot?

  I would have liked to take a shower, but I have no idea when the guy is serious and when he is joking. Just in case, I don’t want to make him wait, because God knows what punishment that would mean.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, aware that he is leading me in the opposite direction from that of his office. I blush, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Why would he take me to his office? The guy probably has ten different rooms dedicated to fucking his women.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Why haven’t I met any of the others?” As soon as the words escape my mouth, I regret them. He glances at me, clearly amused by my question. “I mean, I’ve been here awhile now. It just seems odd that I haven’t run into any of them.” God, I’m babbling. Someone put me out of my misery.

  “How many do you think there are?” he asks, his tone curious. “And what do you want to do with them, compare notes?” He laughs as heat rushes to my cheeks. He’s enjoying this. This is the most relaxed and happy I’ve seen him.

  “I’m just curious,” I mumble, wishing I’d just kept my mouth shut.

  We reach an elevator and I struggle to contain my surprise. Who has a fucking elevator in the middle of their house? The doors open, and he motions for me to enter first. I do, leaning against the back of the small car. He stands next to me, and the doors close. My body tenses. Being alone with him makes me nervous. Knowing how I feel around him makes me want to hurl. How can I be so attracted to such a bad person? What kind of a woman does that make me? I’ve never felt as turned on as I do when I’m around Jaxon Murphy. I know there’s more to him, and that’s what intrigues me.

  We exit on the top floor, an area of the house I’ve never been in. We enter a huge ballroom with stunning high ceilings and windows that overlook the grounds and the sprawling hills beyond.

  “It’s beautiful,” I mumble, unable to draw myself away from the breathtaking view.

  “It’s okay.” He leads me across the room and into another, smaller room that is nearly all windows. The sun is beginning to set outside, creating the most serene backdrop. If it weren’t for the nature of our arrangement, it would almost be romantic.

  “Through here.”

  I follow him to another room. Darkness greets me as he closes the door behind us. My body tenses as I hear the lock click. Is he going to turn the lights on? The thought of being in here alone with him scares me. I have no way of knowing where I am or what’s about to happen—well, I can guess what’s about to happen, but that doesn’t make this any easier.

  His hands graze my shoulders and I jump, not expecting his warm touch. He chuckles and gently turns me around, his fingers trailing down the bare skin of my upper back. I curse my body for reacting the way it does. I don’t want to enjoy this as much as I am.

  “Do I make you nervous?” he asks, tilting my head back.

  “Being in the dark makes me nervous,” I shoot back, not wanting to give away just how much he gets under my skin.

  “Afraid of the dark,” he murmurs, his lips touching my neck. “Interesting.”

  I breathe in, my heart racing as his fingers move over the soft cotton of my top and over my hard nipples. I exhale, shivers rippling through my body. He takes my hand and leads me farther into the room.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice soft.

  Do I trust him? I don’t know him well enough to trust him. Every part of me screams at me not to trust him, but I can’t help it. A small part of me believes he wouldn’t hurt me, that I’m safe with him. Especially if I agree.

  “Yes,” I whisper. I close my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest as he takes my hands and lifts them above my head. I whimper as my wrists are locked into place. I tug against the restraints and get nowhere. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to relax.

  I can just make out his shadow in front of me. My breathing is erratic as I wait for him to begin. He’s so mysterious and closed off that I never know what he’s thinking, and that’s part of what makes him so fucking attractive.

  His fingers close around the curve of my waist. I gasp, the soft tickle of his nails against my skin thrilling. Slowly, his hands slide up over my waist, under my shirt.

  Not being able to see him adds a whole other level of eroticism to this experience. I feel so dirty and I like it. His hands move under the constraints of my bra. I groan as he rubs my nipples, gently at first and then harder, to the point where I feel pain. I cry out, but not because I want him to stop. I want him to continue. I need this.

  He brings his hands out from under my shirt and abruptly tears it off me. I jump, but in anticipation. My body can’t wait to experience what’s next. He leans down, taking my nipple in his mouth. I gasp as his tongue curls around it while he gently bites at it.

  “Oh, God,” I gasp, my body shaking. His hands move around my back, pressing against my bare skin as he moves over to the other breast, sucking softly on the nipple.

  I feel him fall to his knees in front of me, his hands trailing over my skirt. My legs clench as his fingers move to the inside of my thigh. I’m so wet, and having him this close to me is only making my body react with more intensity.

  He flicks aside the hem of my skirt like it has no business being there. I clench my muscles as his finger teases my entrance, the sensation almost too much. A whimper escapes me and he chuckles. He likes having this control over me, and fuck, I like it too.

  “Do you want me to slide my finger inside you, Charlotte?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I gasp.

  “Then tell me that,” he demands. “Tell me you want it.”

  “I want it,” I gasp. My body shivers as his fingers glide over my skin. God, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want him right now.

  “You want what?” He growls, digging his nails into the curve of my back.

  “I want your finger inside me,” I all but scream. He chuckles, his mouth moving over my thigh, the soft and gentle kisses in stark contrast to his commanding tone.

  “That’s better,” he praises me. He slips a finger inside my wetness while continuing to kiss along my thigh. I groan, his touch almost unbearable. I want to push him away and drive his fingers deeper inside me at the same time.

  Growling, he rests his hands on my ass as he thrusts my hips closer to his face until I can feel his warm breath up against my naked pussy. I’m so ready for him I can barely contain myself. My knees buckle as I anxiously wait for his touch. God, I’m throbbing. No guy has ever had this effect on me.

  “Do you want me to keep going?” he murmurs. His lips brush against me as he speaks, his warm breath teasing me.

  “Yes,” I whisper. I throw my head back as his tongue creeps inside me. His hands hold me firmly in place, and even in the dark I know his eyes are on me. He wants to see me squirm. That’s what turns him on.

  He reaches up and unlocks the cuffs restraining my hands. Shaking, I lower them as they find the back of his head. My fingers move through his thick, silky hair, jolting in rhythm with the movement of his tongue. I’m on the verge of exploding and barely able to keep it together. I gasp, my body jolting as I climax.

  “Oh, God!” I cry out. My body spasms as I rock back and forth. I want more but I can’t take it anymore. My hands on his chest, I for
ce him away. He chuckles and wipes his mouth as he gets to his feet.

  “On the bed,” he orders, his voice husky. I take a moment to catch my breath as he turns on a lamp. The room lights up and I can see him standing next to the bed. His eyebrows raised, he’s completely naked. My eyes run over his well-defined muscles and I swallow. “Waiting for an invitation?” he asks. “Because I just gave you that.”

  Blushing, I move over to the bed. My body still aches from his touch, but I get the feeling this next part is more about his needs than mine. I reach the bed and wait, my arms at my sides, my finger trailing over the soft surface of what I’m pretty sure is a silk sheet.

  “On your knees,” he instructs, pointing to the bed. I oblige, climbing onto the mattress as he positions himself behind me. He’s already hard as fuck, and as he places himself at my entrance I can feel myself get even wetter.

  I bite my lip. His authoritativeness is a huge turn-on.

  He drives inside me so hard my toes curl. Gasping, I grab at the sheets, trying to maintain my balance. I wasn’t expecting such force, nor was I expecting to like it so damn much.

  “I love how tight your pussy is,” he mutters. I feel his hand rest on my shoulder as he thrusts himself inside me again. Each push is harder and more urgent than the last, until he’s done. He groans, his movements slowing as he releases. He slides off the bed, leaving me confused and feeling used.

  “You can go now.”

  I sit up, taking the sheet with me. His voice is so cold, and even though I know I’m here for one reason only, that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with moments like this. I thought we connected tonight—well, the first part of it, anyway—but obviously it was little more than sex for him.

  “Do you ever let anyone in?”

  He shoots me a look, surprise registering on his face. I’m surprised too, because I know it’s not my position to be questioning him. But someone has to. How can he stand living like this? It’s not normal, blocking people out, and it sure as hell isn’t healthy.

  “You really are persistent with the whole trying-to-understand-me thing, aren’t you?” he mutters. “Look, if this is getting too hard for you…”

 

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