Hot Tycoons Boxset: A Contemporary Romance Boxset

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Hot Tycoons Boxset: A Contemporary Romance Boxset Page 12

by Emelia Blair


  I find out soon enough when he strikes my ass cheeks two more times, and then I hear the ice cubes rattle. The cold, wet touch of the cube against my abused skin makes my voice hitch, as my body shudders with relief and a tinge of pleasure.

  One of his hands moves towards my pussy and I quiver when I feel another ice cube being slowly being rubbed over my exposed clit.

  He then moves his other hand lower, his fingers move over the slit of my pussy, up and down, just teasing the entrance. I bite my tongue when one thick finger enters and slowly fucks me, steady strokes that don’t quite interrupt my reading but make my voice hitch every now and then when he brushes against a sensitive area.

  “Is something wrong, Charlotte?”

  I hear the smugness in his voice, and bite out, “Just peachy.” He chuckles at the stubbornness in my tone.

  “Hmm, maybe I’m not going fast enough for you.”

  Sure enough, his finger picks up pace, and he inserts another one, stretching out my passage and making me groan at how he curls his fingers inside of my pussy, deliberately brushing against my G- spot.

  Two fingers thrusting into me, my voice shakes when his other hand tortures my clit, using the melting ice cube to rub circles around it.

  I try to maintain my focus, but it is hard when he is so effectively driving me wild with just his hands. My body tenses when I feel an orgasm start to creep up on me.

  He adds a third finger.

  I am stretched so wide that my mind is going blank with the pleasure as he keeps moving in and out.

  My head lowers as I moan, and I hear him laugh.

  However, I don’t care.

  When he picks up his pace, the room is filled with my small gasps and cries as he drags me to the edge and lets me fall.

  My head falls onto the book as he keeps pumping my pussy throughout my orgasm, drawing out the blinding sensation until I am completely drained.

  Then, when he removes his fingers, I feel the aching emptiness and I make a sound of protest.

  Something drops on the carpeted floor before I feel his hard cock against my entrance.

  I am already so drenched that he just pushes in and suddenly I am full to the brim, my mouth opens in a silent scream.

  It isn’t soft.

  It isn’t gentle.

  It is a good, hard fucking.

  He jackhammers my pussy, his hands pinning mine to the bed, as he has his way with me. I moan and whimper under his grip, as he has me completely at his mercy.

  Then he changes angles, just lifting my hips slightly.

  The penetration goes so deep that I can’t stop the small scream from escaping. He fucks me into the mattress, his movements harsh and rough.

  And I enjoy it.

  “P-Philip!” I beg. For what, I had no idea.

  Hearing me scream his name, he picks up his pace that I find myself tumbling down a dark cliff, all my senses on fire as he keeps fucking me right into the next orgasm.

  This time when I come, he comes right with me and as he empties himself inside of me, I vaguely remember protection, but the thought goes away just as it comes.

  He collapses on top of me, and then rolls over.

  When I manage to turn my head towards him, he is laughing silently, exhaustion written all over his face.

  “What?” I ask, hoarsely, his mirth contagious as I too chuckle.

  “You lost,” He snickers. Then he throws his arms over his eyes. “But now I want to take a nap with you, so I lost, too.”

  That is funny, I muse. And when he keeps laughing, I find myself right there with him, joining his hysterical, nonsensical laughter.

  15

  Philip

  I watch Charlotte put her books in her bag.

  She was humming to herself, excited about her class and the fact that the bakery had been cleared for opening tomorrow. When I saw her stuff a small can of mace in her bag, I blinked.

  “What’s that for?”

  She looks up to see what I am pointing at, and makes a face.

  “That’s for unwanted attention.” When my eyes grow hard, she shakes her head. “Force of habit, actually. I used to take the bus back from campus. And that late at night, a woman has to be armed.”

  “Do you still need it?” I ask, leaning halfway over the counter. “You’ll have the car, plus the bodyguards.”

  She hesitates for a second, before saying firmly, “No. It’s better to be safe than sorry. In fact,” She picks up a small bag with a long strap and places it across her body, until it settles on her hip. The mace is put there, along with her wallet.

  I don’t like that she feels the need to arm herself, but I don’t comment on it.

  Besides, she looks so cute, getting ready for school.

  I didn’t know I said that out loud until she makes a face.

  “That’s not funny.”

  I grin at her indignation and then say, “You know, I could drop you myself.” She smiles at me.

  “Yeah, but you have work to do. I know you’ve been lagging because you’ve been spending all your time here with me.”

  I study her and then straighten, before walking over to her and capturing her in my arms, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

  “Are you happy? With me?”

  The question is serious, and she realizes it, because her eyes drop to my chest, and she plays with the button of my shirt, as she admits in a low tone, “I’m not unhappy.”

  “That’s not what I mean, Charlotte,” I chastise gently.

  She glances up at me, her dark eyes uncertain.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Am I being a good husband? Can you see yourself as my wife in the next five years?” She purses her lips, and then sighs.

  “It’s only been a few weeks, Philip. And we’ve been through a rollercoaster of drama together. I’ve got loan sharks after me. My ex fiancé is trying to paint me as a whore. His girlfriend might be trying to kill me. I mean—” She shakes her head. “—Any answer I give you would be based on how we’ve been thrown together in this adrenaline rushed time.”

  I already know the answer to my next question, or at least part of the answer.

  “But do you think you could love me?”

  Charlotte blushes then, her cheeks turning a dusty red.

  “Do you have to ask?”

  “Yes,” I answer honestly. She lowers her forehead to my chest.

  “Of course, I love you, Philip.” She lets out a breath, and then sounds almost vaguely annoyed as she looks up at me. “I’ve always been in love with you. You’ve always been the yardstick I measured every other man by. I also blame you for all my failed attempted relationships, however, few they were.” I find myself grinning.

  “Yeah?”

  She frowns.

  “Don’t look so pleased with yourself. You know I tried everything, right? I tried to hate you. I tried to move on. I – stop smiling like that!”

  I can’t help it. Her admission makes me feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I want to drag her off to bed. I want to place the world at her feet.

  However, I settle for the only thing that time allows, and I cup her face, forcing her to meet my gaze.

  “I love you, too. More and more each day.” When she blushes again, I kiss her, a sweet kiss filled with love and longing.

  Her eyes are dazed when I move away a moment later.

  However, that moment doesn’t last for long, because her eyes fall on the clock behind me and she makes a small sound of distress and pulls away from me, grabbing her bag.

  “I’m getting late! I’ll see you at eleven!”

  I am left grasping for air, as she quickly rushes to the door and slams it behind her.

  I know Tim and Jim are going to drive her there, and one will remain in the car while the other will be standing outside her classroom door, protecting her. Despite my happiness being like a physical thing inside me, as I stare at the windows the rolling dark clou
ds that warn of imminent rain and promise deafening thunder make a sliver of uneasiness unfold inside me.

  I pick up my laptop and put it to charge as I look around for the contracts that I need to review. The crashing thunder sounds just minutes after I settle on the couch makes me look up, and I feel the phone vibrate in my pocket.

  I blink at the caller ID.

  It is Agatha’s friend, the medical practitioner, who did a full check-up of Charlotte last week. I haven’t been too keen on Zayn’s dubious doctor.

  I answer the phone.

  “Brenda, hi. How can I help you?”

  “Philip. There was something I need to check with you, since you’re Charlotte’s husband and all.” Her voice holds a little static, probably due to the thunderstorm outside.

  “Yeah?” I ask, my voice wary at where this might lead to.

  “Charlotte told me she is barren. She sounded very confident about it. But, uh, the results I’m seeing say otherwise.” I freeze, hope blooming in my chest.

  “Are you saying she’s not?”

  “No. I don’t know why she thinks she is. The tests are very conclusive. I have them in front of me, right now.” My eyes stare blankly outside as the first raindrops start falling on the terrace floor.

  “Thank you for letting us know.”

  I don’t know what she says after that because of the thundering blood in my ears. It takes me a few minutes to understand what happened.

  Charlotte isn’t barren.

  And we had unprotected sex.

  I am not allowed to finish my train of thoughts because the door bangs open and Fergus and Zayn march in.

  “We have news!” Fergus declares. He stops short on seeing the look on my face. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I had unprotected sex,” I hear myself muttering. Zayn raises a brow.

  “Oops?” I glare at him.

  “Charlotte thought she was barren. Must’ve been that dick bastard that she was going to marry. And we’ve had a lot of sex, but no protection. What if she’s pregnant right now?”

  I don’t know why I am panicking.

  “If it’s any consolation, at least the child wouldn’t be born out of wedlock,” Zayn offers.

  “That’s not helpful.” I glare at him. Zayn shrugs.

  “Yes, well. I tried.” Fergus rolls his eyes at him, and then looks at me.

  “We have important info right here. You’re going to want to hear this, so get your shit together. Zayn, go make him some tea. He looks like he’s had a stroke.” Zayn settles down on the couch next to me.

  “Man, I’m not making anybody tea. It’s his house. Tell him to make me some tea.”

  “You’re such a comfort, Zayn,” I tell him. When he smirks at me, I punch him in the side, making him double over with a groan. Then, I look at Fergus. “You were saying?”

  The punch makes me feel a little better and I rub my fist.

  Fergus pushes the papers on the coffee table and takes a seat there, showing me a paper, which has a lot of phone numbers on it. One of the numbers is circled a few times in random places.

  “So, the guy had a burner, right. We managed to trace the call that led them to the restaurant. That’s where they followed you from.” He holds up his phone to show me a clip of the exterior of his restaurant. It is time-stamped. “The call was made at exactly six forty-four and lasted for two minutes. Now, watch this.”

  He plays the clip for me, and I see Erik and his girlfriend walk in at six twenty-five. After roughly fifteen minutes, Madison walks out, and puts her phone to her ear.

  My eyes fly to the time stamp.

  Six forty-four.

  She argues with someone on the phone, gesturing with her hands, and then after two minutes, she closes her phone and walks back in. I stare at Fergus, and then at Zayn.

  “It was her? So, Charlotte was right?”

  Zayn takes out a cigarette and lights it, inhaling and the letting out a stream of smoke, before saying, “Yeah. We tracked her number down, confirmed it. And we even got her.” My eyes narrow at him.

  “What do you mean you got her?” The smile on Zayn’s face is a satisfied one, with hints of anger in it.

  “I mean, we called her to your office, under guise of being you. Then cornered her and started throwing out facts. She came clean when we pressed her. But she’s going to be charged with sex trafficking, attempted kidnapping, along with a few defamation suits that will be aimed at both her and Erik. The moron didn’t know about her side plans. All she had told him to do was lead Charlotte on and then ditch her at the altar.”

  “That’s probably the only mistake she made,” Fergus interrupts. “She was so desperate to humiliate Charlotte that she screwed up.”

  “I’m not following.” I frown. “What’s her grudge against Charlotte?” Zayn looks at me.

  “You are.” I blink, unable to connect the dots. Zayn makes an annoyed sound. “Ten years ago, when you drove Charlotte away, you were with a woman that night. You had been seeing this woman on and off, enough that she thought you two were in a relationship. You brushed her off the day after Charlotte left. Remember when Agatha told you that Charlotte was going out of town to stay with an aunt and you became this kind of cold woman-hating asshole for the next few months because you were pining after her?”

  “Thanks for the in-depth detail,” I say wryly. “I really needed a walk down memory lane. That woman was Madison?” Zayn gives a low whistle.

  “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I didn’t recognize her in the video because she had some work done on herself. And by little, I mean, a lot. She looks like a completely different person. You brushed her off and with that you laid waste to her dream of becoming Mrs. McCoy. The lady’s very ambitious. Even now she had some delusions about comforting you after Charlotte’s disappearance and then there was some five-year plan she mentioned.” Fergus looks at me.

  “The point is that she admitted that the men at the church had been there to kidnap Charlotte. They’re low-level operatives of the loan sharks. We still don’t know whether the actual men involved ten years ago were aware of this or not. But once everybody had left, the men were going to snatch Charlotte. She had sent them after her at the flea market. She, however, knew in detail what they wanted to do to Charlotte. Which is why her sentence is going to be a long one.”

  “What about the bakery?” I straighten up. “What did she say about that?” Zayn and Fergus share a look.

  “She swore she had nothing to do with that. She told us that she just wanted revenge on Charlotte for being the cause of ruining her plans ten years ago because you happened to be in love with her. Charlotte’s death sounded too easy to her.” I get up and start pacing.

  “So, there’s someone else out there who wants Charlotte dead? That’s comforting!” Fergus takes my abandoned seat to watch me.

  “It could have been an extreme burglary.” I eye him, feeling a tingling in the base of my spine.

  “He wasn’t interested in taking anything. What about Detective John? You looked into him as well?” Zayn frowns.

  “About that. I got somebody I know to check him out. That one case that he had which involved Charlotte, was the only one he was involved in anything relating to the gang. And that case remained a cold case. He moved on to bank heists and things like that. He came off a little strong because that one case stung him. The man’s got an exemplary record.”

  Fergus broke in with, “But he was suspended from duty the day he and the other guy came to take Charlotte’s statement. And nobody has seen him since. He’s missing. The claims against him were strange, something about tampered evidence. The man that Zayn has on the inside swears by John’s integrity.”

  I stare outside as the rain lashes against the windows and lightning rages across the sky in blinding flashes.

  “The detective went missing?” Zayn puffs at his cigarette, his eyes fixed on me.

  “His partner claims he’s gone on vacation, but my man sa
ys that John didn’t have that kind of money.”

  “Who’s his partner?” I already knew the answer, but Zayn’s voice makes my insides run cold.

  “Clarence Thomson.”

  16

  Charlotte

  I glance out the window.

  “It’s really coming down, huh?” Tim makes a sound of agreement.

  “The forecast didn’t mention a thunderstorm,” he says.

  Jim is silent, focused on the road.

  The two had become quite comfortable around me, and although they aren’t very chatty, they are nice enough.

  I always hate that Woodworth College is in such an isolated area. The college has acres and acres of land surrounding it, most of which are still woods. However, the aloofness of its location also charms a lot of the elite.

  It is quite a distance from the city center where Philip’s apartment is located, and I wish he was here with me. His presence is like a solace to me. I don’t know when I have become so dependent on him always being there for me, but right now as I sit in this car, I feel so alone.

  I want to be wrapped in his warmth as he peppers my face with wet kisses and teases me, relentlessly. Every minute with him makes me feel alive, like a whole new person.

  When he asked me today if I could see myself married to him in the next five years, I wanted to say yes. Because I can see it.

  I can imagine endless nights of going to bed with and waking up next to him. I can almost reach the dream that was him, but I don’t know why I didn’t give him a definitive answer.

  My ringtone startles me, and I fumble in the bag for my phone. A wide smile grows on my face.

  It is Philip.

  I answer, “Philip, I was just—”

  I don’t know what happens next.

  Tim is shouting at me.

  I am grabbing at something to anchor myself.

  The physical jolt as something huge crashes against the car.

  My screams as I feel the car flip.

  The pain in my head before I black out.

  When I come to my senses, I am being dragged out of the car. I am dazed and disorientated. I mumble weakly, “What happened?”

 

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