“Asshole, let me up.”
I was no match for his strength. With his left arm pushing against the small of my back and his right leg keeping my kicking feet back, I was effectively pinned, balanced in a way that provided me no leverage—no escape. The dimmed world around us was a blur seen beyond the veil of my hair brushing the floor. Panic overtook me as I felt him lift the hem of my dress. My reaction was primal. I was in survivor mode and did the only thing I could think to do. Reaching for his ankle and lifting his pant leg, I bit with all of my might.
“Shit!”
His curse echoed as he pulled my hair to force me to release my bite and pushed me from his lap. Almost immediately, I was on the floor.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he barked, reaching for his ankle.
Scooting away as fast as I could, I replied, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He stood and took two steps until he loomed over me. “Give me your hand.”
My lip disappeared between my teeth as I stared at his palm once again being offered. I shook my head. “I don’t want to be hit. I won’t agree to that. It’s my hard limit.”
“Come here.” This time his request was less cold than just moments earlier.
Unable to resist, I reached out and Nox helped me to my feet.
His large hands framed my cheeks as he searched my eyes, less scrutinizing and more curious than before.
“My tastes—”
“Are unique,” I said, finishing his sentence. “I remember.”
“What you did—signing with Infidelity—was unacceptable.”
I sucked my lip back between my teeth and tried to comprehend his words. My signing with Infidelity was what brought us back together. Was being with me unacceptable? Would he prefer to be with someone else? He didn’t have to buy my agreement. Why did he?
“Are you listening?” he asked.
I wasn’t.
“No. I’m trying to understand. No one forced you to buy my agreement. If you didn’t want me—”
His grip on the sides of my face tightened as he walked me backward. Once my shoulders were against the wall, Nox released my cheeks and pinned my wrists above my head. The vein in his forehead pulsated with life, as he asked, “Did I say that? Did I ever say I didn’t want you?”
I swallowed, my emotions tugging my heart in too many directions. “I-I don’t understand.” I tried to free my hands. “And you’re hurting me.”
Ignoring my plea, he pulled my hands higher, making me shift to my toes. His shoulders broadened and neck straightened. “Come now, Miss Collins. From what I’ve heard, you’re a Stanford graduate on your way to Columbia. That sounds like you’re an intelligent woman. Prostitution shouldn’t be too difficult for you to comprehend.”
Heat bubbled from the floor, not erotic but stifling. I blinked my eyes, each time slower than the last, regulating my breathing and wishing to escape. My hands were beginning to feel numb as the grip on my wrists increased.
If my childhood fantasies were true, I could click my heels together three times to escape. The only problem with my solution—and the difference between Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz and me—was that I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to go back to Del Mar and away from the decision I’d made.
“Companionship,” I whispered.
“Excuse me?”
“Companionship, not sex, not prostitution,” I said louder, forcing my eyes to meet his.
“Are you insinuating there’s a difference?”
I lifted my chin defiantly. “Yes.”
He released my wrists and led me to the sofa. I followed, mindful of his hands and doing my best to avoid landing across his lap again. This time we both sat.
“Let me tell you what I understand,” Nox said.
I nodded, rubbing the circulation back into my wrists as the woodsy scent I’d missed settled around us.
“For the next year, you’re mine. Tell me why.”
I swallowed the bile bubbling from my stomach. “Because you bought my agreement.”
“You. Not an agreement. I bought you.”
If he wanted me to feel cheap, he was succeeding.
“Say it,” Nox commanded.
“You bought me.” The words came out stronger than I felt.
I flinched as he reached toward my cheek.
“No.” The velvety tenor washed over me. “Don’t flinch. Charli, I don’t hit. What I wanted to do—and still plan to do—isn’t hitting. I plan to spank that beautiful round ass. Do you know why?”
My body was defying me. Spanking was hitting. I knew that. I also knew the soft yet breathy tone that Nox was now using. That tone, combined with the way his warm touch caressed my cheek and neck and teased the neckline of my dress, brought my insides back to life. I moaned as he tugged my hair, pulling my eyes to his.
“Answer.”
“You said,” I began, “it was because I signed with Infidelity. But,” I added quickly, “if you don’t like it, why are you a client?”
His gaze narrowed as he painfully wound his fingers in my hair. “New rules.”
My lips came together, the pressure on my scalp keeping me mute.
“My rules,” he went on. “When you signed your name on that agreement, you forfeited the right to question. You forfeited your hard limits. Your job for the next year is to say, ‘Yes, Mr. Demetri.’ Can you do that?”
I swallowed as he tilted my head back farther, and his lips found the sensitive skin behind my ear.
“Miss Collins,” he spoke between demanding kisses, “answer.”
“I can,” I replied, “but it depends on what you want.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
My eyes opened wide. His tone had again changed. “Nox, I do have limits, hard limits.”
His assault on my neck ended. “No, Miss Collins, you don’t. I own you—one hundred percent—for the next year. What I say goes without question. You will show me the respect I deserve as your client. You are mine to do with as I please. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” I replied, the word choked out as resentment boiled within me.
Nox cleared his throat. “You’ve just added more swats to your ass, not that I mind, but you will. Would you like to try that answer again?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It wasn’t just my ears; it was my all of my senses. This wasn’t my prince. He was a dick. I worked to hide any sarcasm. “Yes, Mr. Demetri.”
I lowered my eyes, unknowingly shaking my head.
Nox tugged on my hair, lifting my gaze. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I fought the tears that welled in my eyes and the cries that festered in my throat. Ignoring his fist in my hair, I looked into the icy blue. “You have no idea how difficult this was, how heart-wrenching. When I began to make the call and your number appeared…” I took a deep breath. “…I was relieved, but now…” I searched for any sign that my words were affecting him. “…now you’re making me feel cheap.” My volume rose. “If that’s what you want for the next year, a cheap whore, then you’re succeeding.”
One side of his lips quirked upward. “New rules, as I was saying. I always succeed. I always win. Know that, remember that.” He released my hair and fluffed it over my shoulders. “Also remember, you’re not a cheap whore.”
My chest clenched. “I-I’m not?”
Nox lifted my hand, encouraging me to stand. When I did, he tugged and I was once again across his lap. This time I didn’t fight. That didn’t mean I approved of what he was about to do. I didn’t. It meant that his next words sapped the fight from me. They hurt me more than his hands ever could.
“No, Miss Collins. I paid a fortune for you. You’re the most expensive whore I’ve ever met.”
I closed my eyes as he lifted the skirt of my dress, bunching it at my waist and pulled my panties down to my knees.
A low whistle filled the air before he said, “You do have a fine ass.”
; As he rubbed my behind, his erection grew against my stomach. The first slap of his palm against my exposed skin echoed through the room as blood rushed to my ears and copper filled my mouth. My teeth clamped as I pierced the inside of my lower lip. Tears fell from my eyes, but I refused to allow myself to cry out.
He punished and then would tease, spank and then caress. The opposite sensations produced an array of emotions. I hated the abuse to my ass, but loved what his fingers were doing. My vow of silence didn’t last long. Soon, both moans and whimpers filled the suite, punctuated by the sound of slapping skin.
I didn’t only utter sounds. Nox made me repeat phrases. If I did, I was rewarded with his fingers within my folds. If I was too slow or not loud enough, the sting of his hand returned.
By the time he was done, I’d admitted that he owned me, that I was his for the next year, and that my limits no longer existed but were his to decide. I’d agreed to all things in private and public. He was my job, and I belonged to him.
I’d said what I was required to say. That didn’t mean I agreed. In Del Mar I’d given him my heart. I knew that now, because today he’d broken it.
Once he was satisfied that I was demeaned enough, he pushed me from his lap and callously said, “I’ll be back. Read my instructions and be ready. I want my money’s worth.”
His words hung in the air to taunt me as he left me alone to gather the aching shreds of my heart. After the door shut, I slipped to my knees. Reaching for the lamp—currently the only source of light—I flung it against the marble floor. Sparks flew seconds before the room went dark.
I COULDN’T PROCESS the downward spiral of the last few days. With my panties secured in their rightful place, I eased my sore body against the wall in the dark suite and hugged my knees to my chest. Tears coated my cheeks as I worked to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.
Memories, like slivers of my broken heart, scattered through my thoughts. Time lost meaning as my recent and long-ago past intertwined until I wasn’t sure what was real and what were memories. I remembered the card Karen gave me this afternoon.
Could I call the number? Could I be the first to ever claim abuse? Or was this an injustice like others I’d suffered, ones where resolution never came?
The room blurred as more unshed tears raced for release. The entire scenario—Infidelity, Nox, and what he’d done—was embarrassing and degrading. I detested corporal punishment as a child—hated it—and yet at some point with Nox, it became erotic. My temples throbbed, ass hurt, and insides twisted with unfulfilled need. My body’s reaction was as upsetting to me as his actions.
It was wrong. He was wrong. I was wrong.
More and more memories swirled. The fragmented contrasts to childhood punishments churned the acid in my stomach. Those memories erased any desire Nox had elicited.
I closed my eyes and gave in to a recollection I hadn’t thought of in years.
Not every punishment began as a family conference.
The distinctive click of the key turning in the lock echoed through my dark bedroom. Consciously, I held my breath, praying to stay silent. I should have gone into the closet.
Why didn’t I go into the closet?
My current location was only hidden by darkness and the obstruction of my massive bed. With little light, I could barely make out the pattern of the floral bedspread or bed skirt. Nevertheless, the web-like pattern of the lace skirt allowed me a limited view of the door, something I wouldn’t have had in the closet. Golden light from the hallway spilled over the carpet as the door slowly opened. I gulped my hiccupped cry, trying to stay hidden, waiting to see feet, and praying he wasn’t returning.
My pulse raced as the shoes came into view. Black shoes, lady’s shoes, and black slacks. I sighed with relief as my forehead dropped to my raised knees, and I braced my eyes for the flood of light. It didn’t come. The door closed, and the familiar click of the lock let my heartbeat slow, closer to its normal rhythm. Sometimes I wondered if I wore a beacon. No matter where I was, Jane always found me.
“Child, what are you doing?”
I shook my head as she walked around the bed. Even with the thick carpet, the sound of her footsteps filled the room. I didn’t want to look up. I wanted to disappear. If only invisibility were real, I’d do that. I’d stay invisible so no one could see me, and if I were lucky, I wouldn’t see them.
“Alexandria, baby, I’m talking to you.” Her tone was soft yet firm.
“N-No, you’re not. I’m not here. You can’t talk to someone who’s not here.” My words were muffled as I kept my head down.
“You’re not here? Then where are you?”
“I’m invisible. You can’t see me.” At nine years old it made perfect sense. People did it in books. They used cloaks or took potions. Maybe if I believed, I could make it true.
“Invisible? If you’re invisible, aren’t you still here?”
I shrugged. She was right. Invisibility was the wrong wish. I wanted to be someone else in another life.
Jane eased herself to the floor beside me. As she did, she blew out a long whoosh of breath and moaned, settling into her new position. Warmth radiated from her skin and covered me with a different cloak, one that enveloped both of us and only us. My cheeks briefly rose in a small smile.
“I’m getting too old to be sitting on the floor.” She rubbed the top of my head. “But I did it for you. Now look up at old Jane. I want to see those beautiful eyes.”
I gave up on my invisibility, since it obviously wasn’t working; however, I didn’t look up as she asked. Instead, I fell across her chest, landing with my face against breasts as her arms encircled my shoulders.
“Shhh,” she said as she stroked my hair. “What’s this all about?”
It took minutes or longer before the words came. “Do you think I could move away?”
“Move away from Montague Manor and your momma? Do you want to do that?”
“I do. Will you come with me?” It was the first spark of hope I’d had since Alton entered my room, mad again at something I did or didn’t do. I couldn’t tell. As much as I loved when he was out of town, his return was rarely worth the days of reprieve. He came home angry, as if he wanted to still be gone. I wanted him gone too. Why wouldn’t he stay gone?
There was always some unforgivable sin that I’d committed in his absence. Many times like this evening, I didn’t even know what he was talking about. That didn’t matter. I’d learned that pleading my case was the spark to his rage. Admitting my guilt and taking my medicine, as he called it, was the quickest way to a speedy end. Tonight with his disgusting breath smelling like the drinks he always drank, he ranted on about how I was a disappointment—to Mother, him, and the Montague name. It was as if he blamed me that there wasn’t another Montague heir to take my place.
Jane’s reassuring tone broke through my thoughts. “Now tell me how we’re gonna live. And where do you think we can go where your momma won’t find us?”
“We can change our names. I read a book about people who did that. You can work, and I bet momma doesn’t look. He said she’d be happier without me.”
Jane continued to rub my back. “Alexandria, your momma loves you.” She tapped my chest. “In here, you know that. Don’t you ever forget that. And one day you can move away.” She lifted my chin. “And when you do, old Jane will be so proud of you.” Her warm lips kissed my forehead. “Not just then—now too. Right now I’s proud of you. So is your momma.”
I lowered my eyes. “That’s not what—”
“Shhh. What did I say about that? You’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. Some peoples not. Some people look pretty but they’re ugly on the inside. Don’t let that ugly inside of you. You keep it out.” She tapped on my chest again. “That heart inside of you. Child, that’s yours. You protect it. One day you may decide to share it, but don’t do that because no one told you to. You do it because you found someone who is as beautiful on the inside as you.�
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I nodded and laid my head back against her chest. After a few minutes, I confessed, “I really hate him. I do.”
“No, there’s no room in that beautiful heart for hate.”
“He hates me.”
She took a deep breath, making my head moved up and down. “I’m sure he’d say he doesn’t. Just remember, you are Alexandria Charles Montague Collins. Those gates out there… what do they say?”
“Montague Manor,” I mumbled. I’d heard this before.
“Whose name is that?”
“Momma’s and mine.”
Jane nodded. “Just remember that.”
“I wish I could forget it.”
I took a deep breath and stood, doing my best to ignore the lingering soreness. Stepping over the broken lamp, I opened the drapes and blinked. The memory from my childhood and of Storm Nox dissipated as bright sunshine flooded the executive suite. Gazing out over the park, I looked to the northeast, toward Patrick’s apartment.
His proximity gave me strength. Despite what Nox might think, I wasn’t alone. Soon I’d be starting classes. My world would grow. I’d done it before. I’d do it again. If my childhood hadn’t broken me, Nox Demetri wouldn’t. The memory I recalled was right. Jane was right. It was my heart. It wasn’t up to Nox or anyone else who I gave the power to break it or heal it. It was up to me, and I’d protect it.
With each passing minute, I bargained with myself and made myself a deal. I’d recover my heart and put the pieces back together. The job of the heart was to pump blood. I’d glue the pieces of my heart using blood and tears, but they wouldn’t be my own. They’d come from those who’d wronged me—from Alton, my mother, and now Nox.
When a year was up, I’d be the one to walk away but not until I had Nox Demetri completely under my spell. Not until he was the one who would need to pick up the pieces of his heart. In doing so, I’d also secure my schooling and determine just how much of myself I was willing to give to Montague. Alton might believe he won, but he didn’t know the truth. He’s the one who made me a fighter, and this fight wasn’t over.
Cunning (Infidelity #2) Page 3