“That’s the hillside trail,” he said. “It’s a nice run from the house. The view at the top is amazing. On a clear day, you can see from one coast to the other.”
I didn’t think it was an accident the way his arm grazed against my breast as he leaned across me to point it out. I held my breath, pissed at how aroused I was and how he had to know by the way my nipples stood up, reaching for the brush of his limb. And if I hadn’t been sure before, I was certain now that we might be in paradise, but being here with Reeve, whose touch was torturous and hot – was the closest thing to hell I’d ever known.
Reeve’s private compound wasn’t beachfront property as I’d imagined it would be. Instead, it was on the mountain, inaccessible except through a secured gate and a tree-lined driveway that wound up the cliffside. At the top, the canopy broke into a clearing with the house on one side of us, and on the other side, a view so spectacular I couldn’t believe that there were any more incredible on the island.
The positioning of the house was brilliant as well. It had been built on an outcrop of land so the ocean could be seen on three sides. It was grander than Reeve’s Los Angeles home, but still simple and clean in its design. The sprawling one-level with its various courtyards throughout was the safest layout, according to Reeve, and I had a feeling he meant safe from more than just hurricanes. Either way, it was easy to see why he considered this his most secure property.
As soon as we were out of the car, Reeve became preoccupied with business and, I suspected, news from Anatolios regarding measures he was taking with Michelis. He disappeared into his office and so Filip offered to show Amber and me to our rooms.
“That’s not necessary,” Amber said in the typical upper-crust manner she used with servants. “I’m guessing Reeve is putting us in the east suites?”
“He is,” Filip said, his head bowed in deference to her. “I’ll make sure your bags are brought immediately.”
I thanked Filip as I passed him, since Amber didn’t, then followed her through the front doors.
“This is the main living space,” she said, gesturing to the area in front of the entryway. “And behind it is the kitchen. The entire perimeter of the house is surrounded by these open walkways.”
The open walks referred to were basically hallways missing an outer wall. I trailed behind her as she followed the hall to the left. “There are three main parts of the house with courtyards in between. Here’s the first.”
The inner wall of the walk continued here, but it was lower, and in the area behind was an additional dining room and entertainment area that extended from the first building.
The next building we passed wasn’t open like the first, and I couldn’t see what rooms were contained inside.
“This is the office and master bedroom. There’s a mini-kitchen on the opposite side. Basically this is Reeve’s area.”
I tried to ignore the prick of awareness I had, knowing that he was just on the opposite side of the wall. “There aren’t any windows. I’d think the master would have the best view in the house.”
“Right? But it’s the most secure area on the compound so it’s supposedly surrounded by thick, impenetrable walls. It’s practically a safe room. But the outer wall here on the office can be raised like a garage door. Reeve almost always keeps it closed, though. You know him – he likes to be all secretive and shit.”
Yes, I did know him. I hated that she did as well.
The walls opened again and this time we turned into the courtyard. “This pool is heated and there’s the hot tub off the master.” She gestured to the last building. “And these are the guest quarters.”
There were two doorways leading into this part of the house. Between them was a bank of showers and, I guessed, dressing rooms behind them. She took us through the closest door, and, after we got inside past the back wall of the pool changing area, the building opened up to a large common space.
“These are all bedrooms,” she said, pointing to the doors that surrounded the main area. “Except that area on the back wall, which, you can see, is the exercise area. And we’ll have the two suites on either side. The best rooms in the house.”
She opened the door to one of them, and I gasped. The entire back wall was open to the outside, giving a breathtaking view of the ocean. Outside the bedroom was yet another patio area. A second pool ran the length of the building and spilled over the cliff beyond.
I walked in further and surveyed the scene. “This is… amazing,” I said, unable to find appropriate words for the spectacular setting.
Amber joined me as I walked out onto the covered lanai. “These walls close, too, like the office. In case you want to shut them at night for privacy. That room on the opposite end will be mine. We’re practically neighbors.”
I had to swallow past the ball suddenly lodged in the back of my throat before I could speak. “Just like old times.”
Once upon a time, I fantasized that she and I could live like this forever. Together in a luxurious location, both of us taken care of, nothing lacking.
“Yes.” The breeze blew in and lifted her peroxide-blond hair off her cheek, revealing the entirety of the grin that lit up her face. She turned from the view to face me. “Well, not just like.”
Because this time only one of us would get the guy. For half a minute I’d forgotten.
“No, I guess not,” I agreed, and I managed to keep beaming despite the sinking feeling in my chest. A slow sinking, as though a paper airplane had been tied to my heart or my hope or the ball of optimism that I kept trying to nourish and sustain inside, and now had been tossed out into the wind. Little by little, it made its descent, carrying everything wonderful between us with it.
Behind us, footsteps could be heard across the stone tile of the common area. “Filip,” Amber said. “I’ll tell him whose bags are whose.” She turned to go.
“For what it’s worth,” I called after her, “I think the parts that are like old times are really nice.”
“Me, too.” She disappeared into the hallway and I reminded myself that, while there was beauty in this fall, paper airplanes never stayed in flight for long. Eventually, I’d hit the ground.
We spent the rest of the day settling in. Reeve was absent for both lunch and dinner, but with the four security guards, Filip, Alex, and two women house servants, the house didn’t feel lonely. While everyone else dined inside, Amber and I took our supper on the lanai off the kitchen, and, when the sweet Polynesian girl left the bottle after pouring my glass of merlot, I passed it to Amber.
“You’re very naughty,” she said with a wink. She dumped the water from her glass on the stone ground and replaced it with wine. “Reeve would not approve.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t.” I knew she assumed that my disregard for his rules meant that she still held the highest position of authority over me, and I let her believe that.
In truth, I wasn’t sure what my motive was. It might have had more to do with Reeve than with Amber. There was a stab of satisfaction at the idea of riling him up, even if he didn’t ever find out.
After dinner, we hung out in Amber’s room like old girlfriends at a sleepover. I’d commandeered a second bottle of wine from the kitchen and by the time we’d finished it off, I was feeling more tired than tipsy.
Seeming to sense that I was fading, she stood up from her bed where we’d been lounging and stretched. “I think I’m going to take a bath.”
“Okay.”
“Or I can soak in the hot tub instead, if you want to join me.”
I stifled a yawn. “I’ll take a rain check. I didn’t sleep on the plane like someone else I know, and this time difference is killing me.”
“You’re going to call it a night then?”
“Just as soon as I can work up the energy to get off this bed.”
She pulled a pair of panties out of a drawer and a slinky nightie out of another, and I tried not to think about the reason she’d picked out something so blatantly s
exy in her online shopping spree.
Don’t think about it, I told myself. So she was planning to seduce Reeve. I’d have to get used to her sleeping in his bed sooner or later.
“No rush,” she said. “You’re welcome in my bed as long as you want. Make yourself at home.”
Yeah, because she probably isn’t expecting to sleep in here herself.
At the door, she paused. “But if you aren’t here when I get out, I love you and sweet dreams.”
Her declaration of affection caressed and scratched, like a beloved fleece blanket that had lost its softness from one too many times in the wash. I knew she loved me, and hearing her say the words warmed me, but they felt uncomfortable at the same time, and I didn’t know what to do with them or how to react.
She lingered, and after a few seconds I realized she wanted me to return the endearment.
The best I could manage was, “Same here.”
Fortunately, it was enough. She grinned then disappeared into her bathroom, and a minute later I heard the sound of water filling the tub.
With a weary groan, I pushed myself up to a sitting position then froze, my eye catching on an item sticking out of the travel bag open on the dresser.
I’d generally been one to respect Amber’s privacy, even when she didn’t always return the favor. But curiosity and concern overruled that consideration, and before I could think twice, I’d crossed to the bag and pulled out the object that had attracted my attention – a full prescription bottle. Two bottles, actually, one hiding under the other. Without removing the caps, I recognized the round, white pills inside as oxycodone.
Goddammit, I swore quietly.
And if I wondered where she’d gotten them, one look at the labels told me. Both had been prescribed to Bud Greenwood – Buddy. He hadn’t just given her cigarettes; he’d loaded her up with drugs.
I counted the seconds by the tick of the wall clock as I debated what to do about my discovery. One hundred twenty ticks passed before I decided that I’d thought about it for two minutes too long. Two bottles of oxy was serious. This wasn’t the same as secretly sharing two bottles of wine.
With both containers in hand, I took off in search of Reeve.
I crossed the courtyard between the east wing of the house and the center building. Seeing that the office light was off, I traipsed through the open door of the master bedroom, already making my announcement as I entered. “You won’t believe what I just found in Amber’s room.”
The words were out before I realized that the room was empty.
And then it wasn’t empty. Reeve stepped out of his bathroom, his hair wet, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. “What was that?”
“Oh.” My eyes slid down, across the sculpted planes of his chest, to the deep creases at his waist that angled and disappeared under the white terry cloth. Inches and inches of bare skin before me, wet and glistening, begging for my tongue to dart along his dips and bends.
My fingers tingled as though from muscle memory. I could practically feel his toned body beneath them.
Except my hands weren’t holding him – they were holding plastic bottles full of narcotics found in the bedroom of the woman who really should be holding him.
I turned, averting my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were in the shower. I’ll come back.”
“I’m not in the shower now.” His smirk was apparent without looking at him.
“It’s fine. This can wait until tomorrow.” I started toward the open door, my feet seeming to move through molasses. Had the distance doubled since I’d walked in?
I’d barely made it three steps when he said the word I both dreaded and longed for – “Stay.”
I shook my head, but my feet were planted. “I need to leave.”
“I told you to stay.”
He’d used that voice, that one that rasped with demand. That one that turned my insides into jelly and made my pussy throb. That one I couldn’t even dream of denying.
But I had to deny it. I had to be strong.
“Reeve…” It was a plea, but I didn’t know what I was asking for. For him to let me leave? Yes. But, also, no. Because no matter how much I believed that was the right thing to do, I didn’t want to beg for that. It was one thing to walk away. It was quite another to ask him to send me. And I couldn’t do that – could I?
It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t listen if I could.
“Turn around,” he commanded, and like a trained performer, I did.
I kept my eyes down, studying the tile beneath his feet. Unglazed ceramic-like throughout the rest of the house, but there were more grays and dark browns in the flooring here, while the flooring elsewhere stuck to the color of sand.
“Look at me, Emily.”
I lifted my gaze, slowly, as if it were heavy, as if the weight of it took all my strength to hoist. In reality, I just knew what I’d find when I raised my eyes high enough, and that knowledge made me hold the reins and sent shivers down my spine. Shivers of fear because I didn’t want to see what he wanted to show me. Shivers of anticipation because I didn’t want to see anything else.
Then I was there, staring at his bold erection, the towel abandoned on the floor at his feet.
My breath slid out in a slow sigh. Just the sight of him, naked and hard in front of me, and I was instantly aroused. My nipples tightened and rose into sharp peaks, and the thin cloth at my crotch felt damp and oppressive. And the night that had felt almost too cool just a moment before was suddenly hot and stifling.
Reeve brought his hand down and slid it down his length before circling it at the base of his cock. “Watch me,” he said in that tone that forced me to comply. That voice that wasn’t even necessary because I was already glued, my focus cemented to his rhythmic stroke.
“Should I tell you what I’m imagining while I do this?” His voice was like an intruder, an unwanted narrator in an already hard-to-watch scene.
I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t move. But I could manage one faint word. “No.”
“I think I should.” His teasing had an edge of cruelty that ratcheted up my desire another ten degrees. “Don’t you want to know what gets me this hard? What kind of thoughts?”
“No. I don’t.” More than anything I wished that I meant it.
“Hmm. I don’t believe you.” His hand slowed, this time tugging all the way to his crown where his palm rubbed across a drop of pre-cum before sliding down his length again.
God, it was so hot. And the door was wide open. Anyone could come in. She could come in. What kind of person was I to be even more turned on by that possibility?
“You want to watch,” he said, his stroke adopting a lazy tempo. “But you’re not sure if you want me to say I’m thinking of you while I’m touching myself. Or if you want me to say I’m thinking of Amber. That’s it, right?”
I shook my head, unable to even say no anymore.
“Well, this might be a disappointment. But I’m not thinking about Amber.” He took a step toward me and automatically I took one back. “I’m not imagining her lips wrapped around my cock.” Another step toward me, another away from him. “Or her tight pussy milking me to orgasm. It’s not her blond hair I’m picturing twisted in my hand.”
His stride sped up, and each step pushed me back, back, back until I hit the wall behind me and couldn’t go any farther.
He gave a smug smile that reminded me of a cat about to pounce on a caged canary. “It’s not Amber making that sweet little sound in the back of her throat.”
I shuddered every time he said her name, my eyes darting to the open door, half-expecting to find her standing there, half-disappointed when she wasn’t.
“That soft one that’s completely a cry of pleasure but it’s so near the sound of pain – you know which one I’m talking about. Do you even notice when you make it?”
Was I making that sound now? I had no sense of myself anymore. All I knew was everything about this moment was pure torture.<
br />
“It’s not Amber begging for me to be inside her.”
I dropped the pill bottles to the floor and slammed my hands over my ears. “I’m not listening to this.”
He was only a few feet from me now, but he halted abruptly. “Put your hands down.” The teasing edge had vanished and was replaced with bitterness. “Or I’ll tie them behind your back.”
It was meant to be a punishment, and it was, only the punishment was not in the threat, but in how difficult it was to deny him.
“Don’t touch me,” I begged. “You can’t touch me.”
“I can’t?”
I shook my head, fiercely this time, even though it didn’t matter how furiously I protested – if he wanted to touch me, he would. And it wouldn’t ever be nonconsensual, no matter how many times I said no, because he and I both knew that, despite my objections, I wanted him to touch me. More than anything.
He closed nearly the entire distance between us. “You don’t mean that. You don’t mean to tell me what I can and can’t do with what belongs to me.”
My entire body went weak. If I hadn’t had support behind me, I would have collapsed.
He placed a forearm on the wall next to my head and leaned in so that his mouth was only an inch away from my ear. “Tell me I’m right.”
I swallowed, my eyes watering. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” His lip curled up. With one arm still braced on the wall, he glanced down between us where his other hand continued to jerk himself off. “For being such a good girl, I’m going to give you a reward. I’ll let you stop worrying about what I’ll do to you. I’m not going to touch you. I’m not going to fill your mouth with my cock even though I could. You know I could. I’m not going to squeeze your breasts or stick my fingers in your cunt. I’m not going to lick swirls around that pretty little clit.”
Each word out of his mouth pinched and bruised and slapped. I ached for the touch he talked about, the physical touch he’d denied thus far. And I knew him well enough now to understand that he wouldn’t give me anything until I asked for it. That was his secret weapon, what made him different from all the men I’d been with before him – he wouldn’t allow me just to take what he gave. He made me want. He made me accept.
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