“Is it wrong that I’m turned on?” I say to Milly.
“He wrestled a cat, not a fucking tiger.”
“The next time she decides to bring a cat home, please just kick it out on the street,” Rhett says to her.
“Mean, so mean.” I shake my head and pick up Larry’s crate. “Come on Larry, let’s go to the vet. They just don’t understand you like I do.”
Rhett follows me down to the garage and I slide the crate onto the front seat of Milly’s Mini, slamming the door shut. He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, his hand still bleeding from where the cat scratched him.
“Thanks for your help.” I reach up on tiptoes and kiss his cheek, but he catches me off guard, pushing me backwards until I’m up against the car. He braces both hands against the roof, either side of my shoulders, and I have to tilt my head back to look at him.
His eyes meet mine and he looks torn, troubled. “I need you to do me a favour.” There’s a pleading edge to his tone and it makes me frown because Rhett doesn’t ask or plead for anything. He cups my cheek, his eyes studying my face. “Please be more careful when you go out. I know you think you’re untouchable, but you’re not.”
I roll my eyes and smile. “You’re cute.”
He sighs and drops his head forward. “Blake.” When he lifts his face, his expression is hard. “It’s not a joke. You came home the other night with a broken bra, no top, and no memory of anything. Now you might be fine with that, but the thought of someone fucking touching you…” He cuts off and focuses his gaze over my shoulder. I don’t know what to say. What can I say to that? I want to be indignant about it, but I can’t, because he cares, and no one has ever cared before.
He’s supposed to be a fake boyfriend; a guy I fuck sometimes. He’s not supposed to be possessive. He’s not supposed to care. And neither am I.
“Can…can I ask you something?” I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. God, this is painfully awkward.
He says nothing and I glance up to find him watching me, waiting.
“Okay, I just…” I clear my throat. “Is this…?”
He folds his arms over his chest, watching me stammer like a complete twat. “What?”
“Is this, like…a thing?” I mouth the word, unable to even say it.
“A thing?” He smirks.
“Well, it’s just you’re awful bossy for a dude I fucked a couple of times.” Not to mention jealous, possessive, and over-protective.
He slowly presses his body against mine, stroking his knuckles over my jaw.
“I just don’t want anyone else to touch you. That’s all.”
“Oh, that’s all?”
He narrows his eyes. “It’s simple, Duchess. I like fucking you. While you fuck me, you don’t fuck anyone else. You want to fuck someone else, then you don’t fuck me.”
I drop my eyes, focusing on one of his shirt buttons. I trail my hand over his chest, and absently trace my finger around that button. “I want to fuck someone else,” I say, trying to put as much strength into my voice as possible. I don’t. What would be the point? I’m pretty sure my vagina is ruined for anyone else. But the fact that I barely know him, and am this into him makes me nervous. It’s just not right. I know absolutely nothing about him, but then, why do I need to?
His fingers grip my chin almost, forcing me to look at him. “Really?”
He holds my gaze and my resolve wavers under the weight of his stare. That stupid allure of his batters away at my reason. “No,” I whisper.
His expression softens, and his eyes focus on my mouth, before he leans in, brushing his lips over mine. “I know,” he breathes before he kisses me, and just like that, I’m putty in his hands. The worst part is that I know I’m being easy but can’t seem to do anything about it. He nips at my bottom lip gently, and steps away, out of my reach.
“I have to go away for a couple of days, but I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Uh-huh. Just fucking? Bullshit.
“Okay.”
He starts walking backwards towards his car. “Make sure you actually take the cat to the vet.” He smirks, holding up his injured hand. “I bled for that shit.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off and get in the car.
21
Rhett
I sit in the waiting area, staring at the depressing grey walls. This place is enough to make you want to blow your brains out, but then I guess that’s the point.
My phone, wallet and keys have all been taken off me, so I have nothing to do but sit here with my own thoughts, and trust me, there are plenty. This whole situation is shitty. I’m here to do a job, and that should be my focus, but Blake is consuming my every damn thought.
I like fucking her, but that should be it. I shouldn’t like the way she laughs, or the way she looks when she wakes up in the morning, or her ‘give a fuck’ attitude.
The problem is, things with her are so easy. When I’m with her she’s happy to see me and she acts like my cock is god, but when I’m not with her, she doesn’t call or text. She’s the perfect woman. I thought I could fuck her out of my system but I can’t, and the way the damn press hound us, I’ve definitely had enough time locked in that flat with her to try.
She’s relentless and the rougher I am with her, the more she wants. She’s just crazy enough to keep things exciting, but not in the psycho, insane bitch way. Shit.
“Torres!” The guard shouts and I stand, walking up to the gate. I hold my arms out and he pats me down before sending me through a body scanner.
“Clear.”
The heavy iron door opens with a loud buzz and I’m guided down the corridor into the visiting room. Rows of tables and chairs line the dismal looking room. No windows, just the harsh thrumming of the fluorescent lights overhead.
I take a seat and wait, rapping my knuckles on the scarred wood of the table. A couple of other people wait at tables, an older guy, a woman with a little girl. I remember my mom taking me to see my dad in prison. That shit scars, and I feel sorry for the kid.
The door to the room opens with that heavy buzzing sound again, and guards lead in three guys dressed in navy jump suits.
Luca smiles as he walks towards me and drops into the seat across from mine. “It’s good to see you,” he says.
My baby brother, the one who was supposed to get out of all this shit and yet somehow got dragged in deeper than I ever did. Various bruises, old and new, mark his face. That’s how it is in prison. My dad got shanked twice before someone finally got him good enough to kill him. The Cartel have a very long reach, but luckily, they’re more interested in getting Luca out than killing him. For now.
“How have you been?” It’s a stupid question.
He shrugs. “The food’s shit, and I would pretty much give my left nut for some pussy.” Same old Luca, always smiling, no matter what.
“Your right arm is looking a bit over developed.” I grin.
Growing up, Luca was my best friend, my brother, my everything. We had each other’s backs and we did what we needed to survive. We were all we had, and I let him down. I let him get into this shit. It hurts seeing him in here, and I don’t see him as often as I should because it’s just a reminder of where I failed.
He glances around quickly and lowers his voice. “So how’s it all going?”
I nod. “I’m working on it. It shouldn’t be long now.”
He nods and smiles but it doesn’t touch his eyes. I know he’s putting on a brave face for me.
I cup the back of his neck. “I’m going to get you out, Luca. I promise.”
“Hey! No touching!” A guard gets between us, shoving me back in my seat as another pulls Luca to his feet. His eyes are glassy as they lead him away, and as I walk out of that room, I have the urge to punch something.
22
Blake
The door clicks shut and Milly walks into the room with a piece of paper in her hand. “Your hamster is actually real.”
I
sit up on the sofa. “You saw him?”
She laughs and shakes her head, handing me the piece of paper. “This was on the lobby notice board.”
It’s a missing poster…for a hamster. Seriously, who even does that? “I fucking told you!”
She holds her hands up as she walks over to the kitchen. “Yeah, but you’re not a dependable source.”
I shrug because it’s true. “Well, in future you know to trust whatever I say.”
She laughs. “Uh-huh. Okay. I have to go take this article to the editor, but I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, I’m going to go and play with Felix. I feel like I haven’t seen him in forever.”
“He’ll like that. Have fun.”
I step out of the club, typing a text to Milly on my phone as I go. I look up and freeze when I spot the black BMW parked by the curb and the sexy as sin man leaning against it, arms folded over his chest. Rhett’s lips kick up into that effortlessly sensual smile when he sees me approach. I get that sickening butterflies in the stomach feeling that every trashy romance novel tells you about. I’ve become one of the very people that make me want to vomit in my mouth a little.
I step close to him, placing my hand inside his jacket against his warm, hard chest. “I thought you weren’t back until tomorrow?”
Those gold eyes fix with mine, and it’s like he paralyses me with a look. “Change of plans.” He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and yanks me forward in that demanding way of his, pulling me into the warmth of his body. I couldn’t argue or fight him even if I wanted to. He lowers his face to mine and gently teases my mouth. Warm breath touches my cold lips, and his free hand cups my cheek, stroking his thumb over my skin.
“I missed you,” he purrs, and damn, I could easily lose my heart to Rhett Torres.
“Liar,” I breathe.
He laughs and presses his lips to mine again. “Okay, I missed your pussy.”
Better. Better for my heart anyway. I smile. “Of course you did, but it’s only been two days. I think you have a problem.”
“I do,” he murmurs against my mouth. “She’s about five-six, blonde, sexy as fuck.”
It takes me a few seconds to realize there’s a photographer taking pictures of us. It’s as though we’re in a snow globe, our own little glass world. When I hear the familiar click, I glance at the guy who is furiously taking pictures.
Rhett cocks a brow and spins me, slamming me against the side of the car. His hand winds into my hair and his warm lips meet my neck. I gasp as my body erupts into goose bumps, my fingers clenching into the folds of his shirt. He bites me before swiping his tongue over the same spot. My eyes flutter closed as a moan slips from my lips. Damn it, he’s like crack, and by that, I mean that you would sell your very soul for just one more hit, one more second of this feeling. Never have I felt so alive as when he touches me. By the time he pulls away from me, I’m dizzy. He flashes a cocky grin and takes my hand, pulling me away from the car and opening the door. I had totally forgotten about the guy with the camera until he moves back into my view, trying to capture us from a different angle.
We get in the car and he starts it. “I think he got his shot,” Rhett says.
I smirk. “I’ll have you know I was perfectly happy covering page five with my regular minge shots before you came along.”
“I’m sure you were.” He laughs. “You’re classy like that.”
“Hey, a minge shot whilst falling out of a limo is a classy minge shot.”
We’re about five minutes away from my apartment when he turns the wrong way. “Uh, where are we going?”
“My place.”
“The hotel?” I don’t mind staying there, but I prefer mine.
He smiles. “No. My new place.”
“You go away for a day and buy a house. As you do.” Because that’s normal.
His lips quirk up. “I just completed it last week, and it’s an apartment.”
“Where is it?”
“Chelsea.”
I say nothing, but shit, Chelsea? I knew Rhett was wealthy, as in, makes enough money to live in New York and drive nice cars, but Chelsea is expensive.
He pulls up outside a terraced town house and leaves his car parked on the street. Climbing out, I glance up at the four story building with iron balconies on each story. He takes my hand, leading me up the few steps to the door. Inside, he walks down a short corridor and up two flights of stairs.
“Fuck. Who even has stairs anymore?” I huff, trying to catch my breath.
He cocks an eyebrow at me as I lean against the wall next to the door. “Really? Two flights of stairs?”
“Fuck off. Exercise is for people who have nothing better to do with their time. Though I should stress that it’s definitely a good use of your time. You keep on with that.” I nod.
He raises his eyebrows. “Because you have so much to do with your time.”
“I resent that statement. I’m a full time carer to myself and my cat.”
He shakes his head and unlocks the door, pushing it open. I guess I’m curious. They say you can tell a lot about a person by their living space. I can’t really say whether that’s true or not. I’ve been in a lot of guys places, but I’m usually not looking around at the décor when I’m high tailing it out of there.
He closes the door behind me and walks down the hall into a spacious kitchen diner. It’s as I would expect of him, stainless work tops and black units. It screams efficiency and power. Very Rhett.
He shows me around the two-bedroom apartment and it’s all much the same with very little colour. Unlike my apartment which is full of…well, I guess most people would call it shit. I call it memories, trinkets. His place is nice, though, expensive.
Rhett disappears into the kitchen and, for a moment, I feel awkward in his space. When we’re at my place, it’s easy, laid back. This feels like it means something. Who knows? Maybe I’m just reading way more into it than I should. Or maybe I just feel awkward because this is a first for me, spending time with someone in their home. Usually, I’d still be in the hallway right now, pinned against the wall or with his dick in my mouth.
I feel out of place until Rhett comes up behind me and presses his lips into the back of my neck. He hands me a glass of wine and I neck half of it.
He chuckles. “What’s got you so spooked, Duchess?” He drops onto the sofa and stretches his arms along the back of it as he stares at me.
“Nothing.” I down the rest of the wine and he cocks a brow at me.
Fuck this. I prefer to stick with what I know. I put the glass down on the coffee table and climb into his lap, straddling his thighs. His expression changes, a small smile lighting his face.
His hands move to my sides, pushing under the material of my top. His fingers feel so good on my skin. It’s as though I’m flammable and he’s the match, the second he touches me, sparks fly.
I grip his thick hair in my fingers and he leans in, brushing his lips over my collar bone in barely a whisper of a kiss. My body practically sighs being this close to him. I missed him. I’ve known him for a total of three weeks, and I missed him after just two days.
He pushes my top up my stomach, and I lift my arms for him to take it off, but he doesn’t. He pushes the material over my head and then pulls my arms behind my back, leaving the jumper around my biceps. I try to pull my arms forward, but I can’t. I glare at him, and he just throws me a sexy smile, that deep throaty laugh escaping his lips. He pushes one hand up between my shoulder blades, and with a quick flick of his wrist, my bra loosens. Of course, he can’t take it off because he has me trussed up like a turkey. My bra hangs uselessly across my chest, leaving my tits exposed.
He shoves me backwards until my elbows are propped on the coffee table, my body straddling the gap between the sofa and table. His hands grip my waist and then his lips are on my stomach, his tongue trailing over me in ways that should be illegal. His mouth works over me until he flicks his tongue over my nipple m
aking me bite my bottom lip. I’m too sensitive, too hot, too…everything. How does he do this to me so quickly?
His teeth skim over my nipple while he shoves my skirt up around my waist. I’m panting and moaning as he sucks and licks a path from my nipple to my throat. I hear the clink of his belt buckle, the zip of his fly before he pulls away. I lift my head, watching him as he tears his shirt over his head, every muscle rippling as he does. His hips lift as he shoves his jeans down, and then his hands are on me again, his warm palm gliding over my stomach and making me tremble in all the right places. He grips the inside of my thighs, spreading me wide. A smirk pulls at his lips as his eyes fix between my legs.
“No panties, I’ve got you well trained.”
“I was already lazy, you had it easy.”
He bites his lip, his fingers brushing over my pussy. I whimper and his gaze trails up my body, crashing into mine.
“So fucking wet for me, Duchess,” he growls as he slams two fingers inside me.
“Fuck!” My back bows as every muscle tenses.
His tongue swipes up the center of my chest, his hot breaths blowing over the damp skin. “So fucking tight.” He pulls out and pushes back in until my head falls back and my eyes drift closed. So good, he feels so damn good. “I want you wrapped around my dick,” he whispers against my skin.
His fingers leave me and he reaches behind me, wrapping his fingers around both my wrists and yanking me upright. His cock presses against me, and I roll my hips, until he slides inside me, making me moan.
His chest heaves, his jaw tense as he pushes deep inside me. I stay there, adjusting to him. The hold on my wrists forces me to push my chest out, allowing me very little movement.
“Ride me, Duchess,” he orders, brushing his lips across mine and nipping my bottom lip. On a roll of my hips, my mouth falls open in a silent moan. I ride him, moving up and down on his cock like my life depends on it.
He puts his hand on my stomach, forcing me back just enough that he can see between our bodies, and then he’s thrusting up, pushing against me and forcing me to grind over him harder. His movements grow more violent and demanding as he watches himself fuck me. Sweat coats my body and my lungs falter as my body trembles uncontrollably. He forces me to fuck him like something possessed and I shatter under his touch, crying out and screaming his name.
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