I lifted my eyes, meeting his burning ones.
In the distance, a bird squawked and I used the distraction to separate.
I won’t lie, I was terrified as we approached the dock. I wouldn’t have put it past my brother and sister to leave without me. They were there, though, boat churning water, Gray at the wheel and Story seated behind him.
I took a seat in the stern, watching her. Story looked absolutely miserable. I wasn’t ever one to wonder why Gray did the things he did, but now I couldn’t help it. What was he doing with her? Or… to her.
Gray pulled us away from the pier, and in no time we were rushing toward our destination, sweet, salty air kissing my cheeks. The Riviera skyline was like a colorful chest of treasure opened and shining against the black sky. Gray turned off the engine when we arrived, steering us into a hidden cliff. The stars above us vanished and for a moment it was utterly pitch.
The thumping beat hit us first.
Then the dark opened up into a dazzling cliffside grotto that looked out over an ocean, enclosed by rock on three of its sides. A DJ spun on a dais in the middle of the water, colorful jewel-toned spotlights flashed from him into the crowd. Girls in bikinis and skimpy dresses danced on stages built into the rock, hair flying with their movements. Some jumped off rocks into the water below.
Gray docked our boat amid many others.
This was the most exclusive club in the French Riviera. Only a few knew its location and how to get here. I already recognized Khalid and the teenage heartthrob from our after party. The thing is, exclusive just meant small. We all frequent the same clubs and places. If you don’t like someone, tough shit, you learn to tolerate them.
Someone was there to help each of us out of our boat.
Theo, Gemma, and I were the last to leave.
“Let’s try to avoid each other,” Gemma said to me, her hand still encased in the man helping her get out. She stepped onto the polished floor, her hair all but whipping me in the face. She spotted her friends—the Gemma troopers, I called them, because they all looked like mini fucking Gemmas—and ran to them with a squeal.
“Yeah, they really wanted you here,” Theo said at my back, a laugh all but on his tongue.
I ground my jaw, letting the man help me out of the boat as I eyed the girls dancing on the stages, my plan set.
“You have your bad idea face again,” Theo said when he was out of the boat.
“I don’t have—” I exhaled, blowing a strand of hair. “Will you do me a favor, Theo?” I asked, batting my eyelashes, tone saccharine.
He pushed his cheek out with his tongue, looking me up and down with sharp eyes. A small barely-there smile hooked his cheek, and it nearly buckled me. It was like he was reading all of my thoughts, and it amused him. I was a mouse the lion had decided not to kill for a few minutes.
“Oh yeah, Reject? What favor?”
I ignored him calling me Reject. “Um… could you get me a drink?”
Another one of those sharp looks, then his grin spread. Slow, feral, devious. “Sure thing. I’ll get you a drink.”
I watched him walk away, his broad back disappearing into the crowd. That grin. It lingered in the jelly in my thighs. It made me nervous even though he was playing into my plans.
I shook it off—physically shook it off—then ran to a stage.
The club had multiple stages on all floors leading to the top. Every one was open so you could jump into the ocean with the DJ. From the bottom looking up, you could see them all.
Every stage was taken, but I didn’t care. I made my way to the top, eyes on the best. There were few above a Crowne, and this girl was not one of them.
“Get off.”
She was about to argue, but when she saw who I was, she quickly scampered off the stage.
I spent years dancing, and I got a delicious thrill thinking this is how my training was being used. Dear mistress Alexy, all those fucking hours spent en pointe are now being used to shake my ass for semi-random strangers. Dear Mom, all those hours you forced me to stretch are now being used to bend over—
I was grasped by the wrist, and I stumbled into Theo’s piercing, pale green eyes. “What are you doing?”
His voice was rough, like sandpaper, and it rubbed me in the best way.
“Tormenting goes both ways, Theo.” I leaned in like I was going to kiss his cheek, then pulled back with a wicked smile. His eyes darkened, sending thrills down my spine. I tugged my wrist and he narrowed his eyes a fraction but loosened his hold.
Like he wanted me to know he’d let go.
He didn’t stay at the base of the stage like a lot of the men. He went to the edge of the floor until his back was to air and the water below.
Song after song, Theo let me dance, but I could feel him. All other persons faded away. Through the crowd, Theo’s dark and twisted wire throbbed.
I lifted up my shirt and the crowd went wild.
I had a half second to register the rush before I was grabbed at the ankle. I was yanked hard, flying up and into the air, catching Theo’s upside-down glare. At the same moment I was certain I was going to slam into the shiny stage, Theo’s arms wrapped around my waist. He threw me over his shoulder, ignoring my shouts.
He yanked my skirt down, then his arm wrapped tight around it so it couldn’t ride up. I could barely register the gentlemanly action, when his thumb was at my panties, sliding through the material, and he was on me. Pressing into my slit, grazing me back and forth, driving me hotter and higher, as he carried me through the club like I was a feather.
Torturer.
Theo Hound was a cruel torturer.
He carried me into a room carved into the rock, but by the hanging chandelier and plush carpet you wouldn’t know it. It overlooked the sparkling night and dark ocean. I could only hear the thump of the beat, the occasional happy scream and splash. We were totally hidden.
He tossed me down with something like savage tenderness. I landed on my feet hard, but his hands came to my cheeks, pushing the hair out of the way.
Then he kissed me, hard and brutal and over too fast.
“Fuck, I love that color on your cheeks, Abigail. Only make it for me.” I think I must have flushed harder, because the grin on his face spread. “Yeah, sweet girl, like that.” He trailed his knuckles along my cheeks, down to my jaw.
Goose bumps rose along my spine.
“I thought you were going to…” I swallowed at the memory of him touching me. “In the club,” I finished on a whisper. I couldn’t say it. Theo sucked out my bravado and made me a puddle.
In dark gray jeans and a black leather jacket, he was somehow both dressed up and casual, quintessentially Theo, and it was driving me nuts.
His knuckles continued down my neck. “Would you like that?”
It wouldn’t even be a shocking sight to the kind of people out there. Which is why the fact he brought me back here, to someplace private, had my gut twisting. It was more taboo to do things in private, more scandalous to keep a secret than tell it.
“With you, Theo, there’s a lot I shouldn’t want… but I do.”
He held my shoulder now, thumb at my collarbone. “Like?”
A voice in my head whispered at me to say dirty things. I wanted them, of course. I wanted to do all the dirty things with Theo, but that’s not what I was thinking when I spoke, and if I said that, I would only be pushing him away. The look in his eyes, the gentle way he stroked my collarbone, told me not to push him away.
“I want you to sleep in my bed, Theo,” I said honestly. “I want to wake up in your arms.”
Emotion flitted across his face, too quick to discern. “Sure thing, sweet girl.”
And then he kissed me.
Twenty
ABIGAIL
I woke up in Theo’s arms, warm and safe for the third night in a row. We were in Spain now, having made the two hour flight last night. Now we slept in a custom bed bigger than a king, with soft sheets to complement the softer
air. The room opened up to a wraparound porch with baluster railings overlooking the warm ocean.
I folded my arms on his chest, resting my chin on my hands, and looked up at him. “Why do you call me sweet girl?”
A flicker of a smile. “Because that’s what you are.”
“I’ve been called a lot of things…”
“You’re my sweet girl, Abigail. Just for me.” He pushed the hair out of my face, trailing his caress down to my lips. “You slept with the light off again.”
“I guess I did,” I said. With Theo in my bed, I didn’t feel the need to keep it on. The meaning was clear and I felt too raw, but thankfully Theo didn’t press further.
I angled to kiss him, stretching my arms out from sleep. As I did so, I swiped my arms across the nightstand to our left, accidentally knocking off his backpack. It fell to the floor, and his mom’s diary fell out. With it, the nice moment shattered.
Theo slowly untangled from me, leaving me cold in bed, to put it away.
My gut clenched at the sight. We hadn’t really let each other back in, not really. We’d stepped outside of our walls, into neutral territory. Neither of us had really torn them down.
How long could that last?
“It wasn’t random,” I said, watching him shove it back in. “That night on the beach, I mean. I know I acted like it could have been anyone, but it could only be you.”
The muscles in Theo’s naked back were tight and coiled.
I worked the soft sheets between my fingers.
“It was you I wanted,” I continued. “Theo, it’s always been for a reason, from the very beginning.”
He stood, diary in hand. His jaw was clenched so hard the muscle feathered. He came back to the bed, sitting on the edge. I sat up, resting my chin on his shoulder.
“There’s nothing worth reading in here…” He held the diary out toward me, not quite giving it away. I waited on a heartbeat’s thread, hoping for something I was too afraid to even think.
He feathered a caress along the edge of my cheek. His touch was too nice. Too sweet. Too addicting. You could almost forget the crash that followed such a high.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached an arm out and grabbed it. An unknown number flared on my screen, followed by a picture of a single gold rose, and a promise: Can’t wait to see you.
I dropped the phone, too shocked to pretend it was nothing. It fell loud and ugly to the floor.
“Is that him?” Gone was Theo’s tender voice, in its place rough words that abraded my spine. My eyes flashed to his.
I’d almost forgotten my stalker in our sweet bubble.
“I just realized I don’t have your number—your new number,” I said, trying to deflect. I reached for his phone, putting my number in and then texting myself. “There. Everything is as it should be. Guess it’s easy to overlook when we’re always together.” I gave a shaky laugh.
My deflection didn’t go unnoticed. “You don’t need to hide, Abs. I’m here to protect you. I’ve always been here to protect you.”
“Not always,” I whispered.
The bed was too hot, the sheets stuffy. I sat up, throwing the Egyptian cotton off and stretching. Warm Spanish air drifted in through the window, sliding along my shoulder blades.
“He’s not like your other problems, Abigail. You can’t stuff him into a box and act like he doesn’t exist.”
I dragged a nail along my thigh, hating his words, hating how he could always rip away my armor.
“I know he’s one of you,” he said more softly.
I looked over my shoulder, barely catching Theo’s eyes.
The door to my wing opened and our tenuous connection snapped. I quickly dressed, throwing a threadbare pink sweater over a vintage Chanel skirt. If Theo and I were caught together, he’d be taken off my assignment. Nothing would happen to me, because as a Crowne it only mattered if I tried to love him, if I tried to marry him and be with him.
And that wasn’t happening…
Theo didn’t care. He slid languidly into his gray jeans, cavalierly putting on the same shirt he’d worn the night before.
Gray was in the sitting room, leaning against the door.
His blue eyes sparked with suspicion when he saw us, but all he said was, “We’re doing a DiCaprio tonight, you in?”
My eyes lit up. “Really?”
A DiCaprio was named after Leonardo DiCaprio from his scene in Titanic where Rose sneaks down into the basement. We would go out and party with the peasants—Gray’s words. Usually I wasn’t invited, because they never invited me to anything unless they had no choice.
An uncontrolled bubble of excitement filled my chest.
I heard Theo scoff beside me. He never approved of doing a DiCaprio, mainly because we usually left the “peasants” in some kind of trouble, whether it was emotionally or legally. Gray raised an eyebrow in his direction before landing back on me.
“Unless you want to stay on this Spanish Alcatraz.”
“No, no. I’ll meet you.”
Gray nodded. “See you tonight by the pier.”
I chewed my bottom lip so Gray didn’t see my smile. I could hardly contain my excitement. All I’d ever wanted was to be included.
Theo blocked the door almost instantly after Gray left, arms folded.
“You’re not going.”
“Why do you get to tell me what to do?”
He shifted, biceps, triceps, and deltoids flexing in a truly unfair way. “Because I’m your—”
“Your what, Theo?” I interrupted.
We still hadn’t labeled it, whatever this was. My bodyguard? My best friend? My bully? My boyfriend? Or simply nothing at all? Another long, pressure-filled minute passed.
In the end, he never answered.
I eyed the diary still in his hand. “Why are you hiding your mom’s diary from me?”
“Why are you hiding your texts?” he countered.
I narrowed my eyes. “It was a friend—the person who texted me.”
He laughed, a harsh, barking noise. “Fuck off it was a friend. I’m not letting you out of this room, Abigail.”
“That’s how it’s going to be?”
Another agonizingly tempting flex of his arms, and this time he shifted, spreading his legs as if to say, Just fucking try getting by me.
“Your safety is my first priority.”
“I’m getting married. Does that bother you, Theo?” I asked. “I’ll belong to some stranger for the rest of my life.”
I was poking at something perilous, but I couldn’t stop. I felt untethered and crazed. Theo’s jaw was so tight the muscle popped and flexed.
“You’ll still need a bodyguard,” he gritted. “Day or night, I’ll be there.”
I ground my teeth. Why did his response bother me? It’s how it should be.
“You’ll listen to me fuck him?” I goaded. “Listen to me come?”
Theo laughed. “You won’t come.” He grabbed my wrist, yanking me so I spiraled into the hard planes of his chest. “Only I can get this spoiled pussy off.”
Before I can speak he shoves aside my panties, thrusting roughly inside me.
One, then two fingers.
I should pull away. This is the moment I should prove he doesn’t have the power he thinks he has. But dammit, I lean into him. I let myself melt into his chest and the worshipful yet brutal way he watches me.
“I hate you,” I managed, even though inside I lived for his smoldering green-eyed gaze and the ruthless rhythm he worked inside me.
He did something absolutely wicked with his fingers and I gasped, clinging to him as my knees literally weaken.
He grinned. “Yeah, I can tell.”
Theo curled inside me, pumping, pressing his thumb hard on my clit. He shows me the truth of his words with his touch. My pussy is marked by him, attuned, forever his; only he can make my soul glow. I’m on the edge, about to drop, when suddenly he stops.
Steps away.
&nbs
p; I’m left aching and barely able to stand, and Theo is completely aware of what he’s done to me.
I know, because his next words are, “Day or night, Abigail.”
Theo’s grin is gone, and he’s put his arms behind his back, returning to his good bodyguard stance. His face is a complete fucking mask.
I adjusted my skirt, swallowing my anger.
“I’m going out tonight,” I said, hating how rough my voice was. “You’re my bodyguard, so you listen to me.”
Theo seemed to think on that a moment, then turned from me, walking out of the room. He paused in the doorway, only to turn back and chuck his mother’s diary into the center of the room. “When you’re ready to stop telling lies, come find me.”
He slammed the door shut.
I felt awful. The one thing he kept locked tighter than his heart now lay split open on the floor. I picked it up, heart pounding, holding it with more care than a bird’s egg as I went to the door.
“Theo, I’m sorry—” I broke off when the knob wouldn’t budge.
I tugged on it.
Locked
He fucking locked me in.
My fist was poised to slam, when I paused. The open window blew silky air on my skin. This wasn’t the first time I’d been locked in my tower.
Abigail Crowne had perfected climbing out windows.
“Hey, are you Abigail Crowne?” Some kid sidled up next to me, trying to get a look at me under my baseball hat. “You are. I’ve seen your vag!”
“Congratulations,” I said with faux cheer. “You’re almost as special as a used tampon.”
He muttered something about me being a bitch and walked away.
This night sucked.
I tugged on the bill of my baseball cap, hiding my face. The key with doing a DiCaprio was not to stand out. Whoever looked the least wealthy got the most props. Gray tended to take it to the extreme. Someone actually gave him money tonight.
Heartless Hero Page 18