Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)

by Edwards, Scarlett

  Chapter Five

  I open my eyes when I feel a presence in the room.

  A shadow moves across the wall. My heart leaps into my throat. Fear takes a stranglehold on my chest.

  The bed shifts. A weight is lowered next to my foot. Blood is thundering in my ears, drowning out all other sounds. I am consumed by the terror of nightmares.

  And then I hear his voice. Low, deep, and masculine.

  “Lilly.”

  The panic vanishes. But the same cannot be said for the adrenaline that has me wide awake.

  “Jeremy,” I breathe. “What are you doing here?”

  “Making good on my promise,” he says, “to come see you.”

  There’s just enough light in the room for me to see the reflection of his eyes.

  “How did you get in here?” I ask.

  He tilts his head to one side. “Isn’t it obvious?” he says, turning his body toward me. “It’s my building. I have the key.”

  Well, duh. I think.

  Maybe my mind is fuzzy from too much sleep—or not enough sleep. I don’t understand what he’s doing here until his hand comes under the covers and slides up the length of my leg.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says. The hand stops just inches from my core. “I’ve missed…this.”

  His fingers brush over my pussy. I shiver as thin tendrils of pleasure snake over me from his touch.

  He lies beside me. His hand continues up, grazing over my lower tummy, up the side of my hip. It’s a light touch. That makes it all the more erotic.

  “Relax,” he whispers. “You’re so tense.”

  “I can’t help it,” I say. Blood is still pounding in my veins from being so abruptly woken up.

  “I can,” he says. His hand slips back down. His touch feels sinful on my skin.

  He probes me with one finger. My breath hitches. His fingers are cold. I take his wrist in both my hands and try to push him away. “Jeremy…not now.”

  “Yes, now,” he growls. He starts rubbing my clit. “Now, because I came for you, Lilly. Now, because I’m here. Now, because I said so.”

  I yearn for his touch. Why am I fighting it? There’s no point in resistance. I have no desire to fight. It’s probably just a remnant of the memories from when he came onto me like this last time he locked me away in the dark.

  He starts working his hand between my legs. Sure, persistent, and steady. He knows exactly what I want. Better yet, he knows how to give it to me.

  His fingers rub me up and down. My body starts to melt into the sensation. I arch into him, losing myself in the feelings he elicits. My mind goes blank. Nirvana takes over.

  Jeremy’s breathing deepens as he strokes my core. I look over at him, there beside me. There’s a stark focus in his eyes, a deep intensity as he works to get me off.

  “Oh, Jeremy.” I close my eyes and bring my head to him. My forehead rests against his shoulder. I squirm, pressing my legs together, feeling the first hints of the oncoming orgasm.

  Jeremy’s efforts intensify. He strokes me harder, faster, deeper. I bring one hand to his face, running my fingers over the stubble covering his powerful jaw. My fingers tangle in his hair. I push his head toward me. “Kiss me,” I say, in between gasps.

  “Come for me,” he counters. “Come for me first.”

  The raw power, the unapologetic command of his words, opens something within me. A void, kept locked away and out of consciousness for my entire life. His voice reaches in and pulls it out of me. Like the rays of the sun hidden behind a fortress of clouds.

  The clouds part. The rays shine through. In an instant, the climax floods over me, spurred on by Jeremy’s words.

  Then his lips are on mine. Before I can even come down from the high his fingers brought me, my mouth is being consumed by his in a toxic mix of passion and unabated fury.

  He pulls back. His hand comes up between our faces. “Taste,” he commands.

  I suck his index finger and his ring, licking my own juices off. He draws his hand from my mouth slowly, and does the same.

  “Delicious,” he comments. Then, without another word, he rolls off the bed and stands up.

  “Wait!” I say, suddenly reeling. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to work,” he tells me. He adjusts his suit, straightening the jacket. It’s hard to tell in the dark. But I’m pretty sure I can see the bulge of his impressive erection straining the confines of his perfectly tailored pants. “Consider this…a chapter in the education I aim to give you. You did well, Lilly. I’ll see you soon.”

  With that, he walks away.

  “Wait!” I cry out again, scrambling up in bed. “You can’t just—leave! So soon, so suddenly! Please!” I beg shamelessly. “A few more minutes…”

  “Oh, how you tempt me,” he chuckles. He opens the door. The shape of his body is outlined by the intruding light. “Good night, my sweet Lilly Flower.”

  And with that, he leaves me in the dark.

  ***

  Morning comes. I’m wakened by a banging on the door.

  Groggy, I open my eyes. After Jeremy left me last night, I fell into the deepest, most perfect sleep.

  I look at the main door. Then I realize the knocks are coming from the door connecting my room to Fey’s.

  “Hey, Lilly!” Fey’s voice filters through the wall. “You up yet? It’s almost eleven!”

  Jesus! Shit.

  I bring a hand to my face and brush the hair out of my eyes. “Yeah, I’m up.” I call back. “Just now. Give me a minute.”

  I look around the room, searching for evidence of Jeremy’s visit. There is none. Good. I don’t want Fey or Robin to know.

  I stumble over to the door, yawning, still half asleep, and crack it open.

  Fey whistles. “Jeez, look at you. Rough night?”

  “No, actually,” I say, stifling a yawn. “I slept really well. But you remember what I’m like in the mornings.”

  She laughs. “Yeah, I do. You’re a monster. I’ll leave you alone to wake up fully, then? Robin and I already went downstairs and had breakfast. We brought you back a few buns.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Sure. No problem.” She pauses for a second, considering something. “Listen, Lilly. I’m sorry for…you know… springing all of this on you. Robin and I talked. He convinced me that maybe I am meddling too much. But hell, I was worried about you.

  “I don’t know,” she continues. “When you were in California, with Jeremy, last week, and I was in New Haven with Robin, and I heard your message, and I couldn’t get ahold of you…my mind just started dreaming up the most horrifying scenarios. I guess I have an overactive imagination.

  “But now that I’ve seen you again—in person, in the flesh—it doesn’t actually seem that bad. I mean, I’m worried. But you’re still… you. You know? I shouldn’t have doubted you. You’re still Lilly. You’re still in control. You’re still the same girl I have so much respect for.”

  “Thanks, Fey,” I say. “That means a lot.”

  “Sure.” She smiles. “Robin’s waiting for me downstairs. He wants to go check out the city. We were going to invite you. But I think you’d rather be left alone for a bit.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’ve got to shower and eat and stuff.”

  “Okay,” she says. “I’ll leave you to it. We’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  “Take your time,” I say. “I’m in no rush to go anywhere.”

  Some more privacy will give me the chance to collect my thoughts.

  “Okay,” Fey tells me. “See you later.”

  “Bye.”

  Fey leaves. I wander into the bathroom, lock the door, and turn on the shower.

  I don’t get in right away, however. Instead, I look at myself in the mirror… and consider what’s going on.

  Fey said that I’m still the same person she met at Yale. Thank God for that. It means that things might go a little bit smoother when the inevitable meeting happens with Jeremy. />
  I wonder if he got any sleep last night, or if it was straight back to work for him. My money’s on the latter.

  The man is a machine when he needs to be.

  Fey also said that Robin convinced her. Could he be the ally that I need? It was Fey’s concern that brought me here, after all, not his. I mean, he obviously sided with her. But he does not have the leverage over me to actually pull me here. Fey does. And she did.

  It’s her opinion that matters. She’s the one I need to convince, unequivocally, that I am safe with Jeremy. All her fears need to be laid to rest. There cannot be any lingering doubts that would leave her in a position to do something as rash, as unexpected, as showing up in California looking for me.

  I also want to know more about the things Robin found about Stonehart Industries. He alluded to shady dealings. However, he never said, straight out, what they were. It might seem irrelevant. But it’s not. Stonehart Industries is an extension of Jeremy. It’s not like a CEO running GM, with no emotional attachment. The things Stonehart Industries does are a direct reflection of the man Jeremy Stonehart is. If I can further my understanding of him…well, it would mean that this trip was not entirely wasted.

  I’m in and out of the shower in a few minutes. Then I go to my room, leave a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door, do the same to Fey’s and Robin’s, and make the beds. Mindless chores like that give me something to do while I wait for whatever comes next.

  After the rooms are clean, I drink the coffee and have my cold breakfast. I wait for Robin and Fey to come back. I’m itching to do something, to go somewhere, but I don’t want them to come back to two empty rooms and freak out.

  My cell phone? I haven’t touched it since receiving Jeremy’s last text. I don’t know if I ever will again. Not until Jeremy swears that he will no longer monitor my calls.

  So, with nothing better to do, for the first time in ages, I turn the TV on.

  My brief exploration of talk shows and sitcoms is interrupted, however, when I hear a knock at the door.

  I tense. I made sure to put those signs on both doors. Robin and Fey have their own keycard. They wouldn’t knock. They would just enter their own room.

  Who could it be?

  The knock comes again. It’s not urgent. It’s more…persistent.

  I get up. Surely I’m allowed to entertain visitors now, as a free woman. But living so long bound by Jeremy’s rules has made me naturally apprehensive about unexpected situations.

  The knocking continues, grating on my nerves with its insistence. I get up and walk to the door

  I stop in front of it and peer through the eyehole.

  It’s Hugh.

  Shit!

  I spin around and press my back into the door. Hugh.

  What’s he doing here? Jeremy’s father! Why did he come?

  He knocks once more. Each thud runs through my body.

  Okay.

  I take a deep breath. I need to deal with Hugh before Fey and Robin get back. No matter how unwelcome the intrusion might be, I don’t want the introduction of Hugh to complicate things even further.

  I slide the short security chain into place so the door will not fully open. Then I unlock the door and peek through the crack.

  “Lilly!” Hugh smiles up at me. It’s odd—jarring—to think that a man so short produced a son as tall as Jeremy. But there’s a slyness to him. An undercurrent of danger that I would be

  “What are you doing here?” I hiss. “I did not invite you!”

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “Where are my manners? For that matter,” a peculiar smile crosses his face, “where are yours? It seems my son still has lessons to teach you in proper etiquette.”

  I start to close the door. There is no reason I have to stand here and take this type of shit.

  He puts his foot in the gap, stopping my effort. “I’m sorry,” he says again, quickly. “That was rude. Mr. Stonehart will not be happy if word of what I just said reaches his ears.” He peers up at me, and I see something new—a challenge?—reflected in his eyes.

  “Why do you call him that?” I ask. “He’s your son, isn’t he?”

  “Biologically…yes,” Hugh agrees. “In reality, though, things are more complicated. May I come in?”

  “Why?” I ask. “What do you want?”

  He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a small, sealed envelope.

  I’ve enough dealing with envelopes to be naturally suspicious of such things. “What is it?” I ask.

  “Open it and you’ll see.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then you’ll be refusing information that I think you may find absolutely vital to your situation.”

  “What situation?” I ask.

  “Oh, you know.” He looks around the hall, making a vague sort of sweeping motion with his hands. “All of this.”

  I don’t take the envelope. “Did Jeremy send you?” I ask.

  “Now, see? Right there. It hurts when I hear others address my own son by his first name, and yet I am forbidden to do so.”

  “From what I understand, it’s your own fault,” I lash out at him. “The way you raised Jeremy was despicable.”

  “Was it, now?” Hugh taps his lips. “And what do you know about it, Lilly? Were you there? “

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you mocking me? Of course I wasn’t there.”

  ‘”Ah. I see. No, I’m not mocking you, Lilly. I just wanted verbal confirmation. The mind…I find it has begun to slip a bit, in my old age.”

  Now my defenses are definitely up. Verbal confirmation? I’ve heard Jeremy use that term.

  And nothing about the man before me suggests a weakened mind. In fact, nothing about him suggests true deference on any level. I’m starting to believe Hugh is a lot more sinister and a hell of a lot more dangerous than I ever suspected.

  “So. Was it Mr. Stonehart who told you the way things were in his childhood?”

  “No,” I say.

  “So then you’re taking the word of third-party sources.” Hugh’s mouth makes a small, compressed ‘O’. “Hmm.”

  “I want you to leave,” I say. “I don’t like talking to you without Jeremy here.”

  “Why? Are you afraid of what conversation may uncover? Look at me.” He glances down the front of his suit. “I’m harmless. I doubt I possess the strength to force you against your will.”

  He looks at me with sharp, cunning eyes that make me certain that he is referring to his son.

  “That’s not the type of strength I’m worried about,” I mutter.

  “Ah,” he says softly. “I understand. You are fearful of the things I might say. Of the paths I might lead you to.”

  “Is that what you think you’re doing? ‘Helping’ me?” I ask. “We’re not allies, Hugh. We’re not friends. I have a long memory. I remember the stunt you pulled in your office with the photographs, with the collar.”

  “All of it orchestrated by Mr. Stonehart,” he says. “If you think I am at fault, then you are misplacing blame, I fear.”

  “I don’t care,” I snap. “You were a part of it! You were involved. Don’t you dare act as if you’re just a passive party in all this! I don’t know exactly where you stand yet, Hugh, but I intend to find out.”

  “I think,” he says, “that your intentions could be reached, were you to simply invite me inside.”

  “I don’t want you in my room.”

  “Your friends’ room then, perhaps?” He glances at the adjacent door. “We can talk in there.”

  I hate his passive aggressiveness. It makes it very difficult to get a read on him. For that matter, there’s nothing about Hugh’s manner that I like.

  “I fear,” I say mimicking his words, “that you mistake me. You think I’ll entertain your company simply by virtue of you showing up at my door? Well, I think you’ll find that I am ready to do no such thing. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t even want to see you—unless
it happens on my terms, in my own time. And I certainly don’t want any of your poisonous gifts.” I glance at the envelope still in his hands.

  Hugh sighs. He tucks it away. “A pity, that,” he says. “I came here hoping we could make peace. The need has hung heavy on my consciousness, like a noose, since I first met you, Lilly. I can’t help but feel that, perhaps, some of what you’ve experienced at the hands of…” He lowers his voice. “…my son, is partly my fault.”

  “Yeah, well you came too late,” I say briskly. “I’ve already dealt with those issues with Jeremy.”

  “About things that have happened in the past, yes,” Hugh tells me. “Not about occurrences that are yet to come.”

  “And you propose to tell me that you know what the future holds?” I laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  He shakes his head, gravely serious. “I assure you, that was never my intention. I worry for your well-being, Lilly.”

  I’ve heard that line from one too many people, one too many times, in the last few weeks to take it as having even a shred of truth.

  “Go away, Hugh,” I tell him, starting to close the door once more. “Go away! When the thought comes to you to pay me a visit again, remember that you will always get the same reception from me.”

  Hugh pulls his foot back. “If that is what you want,” he says softly. He starts down the hall. A few steps away he stops and looks over his shoulder at me. “But Lilly,” he adds, “if I were you, I would not reject offers of help so rashly. Or with so little thought. Else, I fear, you will find yourself very much alone, and very much too soon for your liking.” He give me an innocent smile. “But what do I know?”

  ***

  After Hugh leaves, my mind is back on overdrive.

  What did he want? Why did he come? What was in that envelope?

  And, most of all: What did he mean by his parting remark?

  It sounds like a warning. But it’s not as if I need Hugh’s advice to understand all the implications of the situation I am in. I know that my spot is precarious. I know that Jeremy’s moods can change on a whim. I know that whatever understanding I think I have—of Jeremy, of myself, of our place in the world—may be completely inaccurate.