by Nikki Ash
He rolls his eyes. “I came to check in before I left to make sure you guys were making any progress.”
“Oh, we’re progressing.” I wink at him. “Did Elma get into trouble again? I could have sworn I heard her getting punished.”
He gives nothing away aside from a tick in his jaw. Good. I may like the guy, but I don’t need him reading into how flustered Kerry is or the fact she’s shoeless and her hair is down. Or the fact her neck is wet from my mouth. No, I’ll turn the tables and run him the hell out of here.
I know what you did in there with my friend, Renner.
As I knew he would, he tenses and begins his retreat.
“Miss Bowden,” Renner grunts, “just email me an update. I need to get going.”
She squeaks out a goodbye as he closes the door. By the time I turn to look at her, she’s pulled her hair back into a bun and is sliding her shoes back on. The moment is lost, which fucking sucks, but I’m no quitter. Not with her at least.
“Mr. Mullins,” she chokes out, frantic eyes meeting mine. “That was…it shouldn’t have…”
I stalk up to her, crowding her space. She bumps her ass against the edge of the desk. Now that I’ve trapped her, I take my time devouring her nervous expression. Blue eyes flicker with worry and she chews on her bottom lip. I reach up and run my thumb along her skin that’s still damp from my mouth.
“It did,” I whisper, “and I believe it’ll happen again. That and so much more.”
“What have I done?”
“You didn’t do anything,” I croon, sliding my hand to her jaw. “Look at me.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, the little brat. My fingers are firm as I press them into her skin, angling her head up to face me. Since she refuses to look at me, I give her what we both want, though only one of us will admit it. I brush my lips over hers in a whisper of a kiss before nipping at her bottom lip. She gasps, parting her lips, and I make my move. My tongue plunges into her mouth, eagerly seeking her sweet one. The sounds coming from her are pure honey and I could get drunk from them. I don’t give her a chance to kiss me back. I simply own her with my kiss. She’s afraid to step out into the unknown with me, so I’ll just make her my unwilling victim, dragging her with me. That way, she can blame me rather than herself.
hands find my chest, pressing against me, but not hard enough that I take her seriously. Especially not when her tongue teases me back, almost unsure, but definitely there taking part in the kiss. I don’t take advantage of the moment and pull back all too soon, my eyes searching her clear blue depths.
“You okay?” I ask, studying her for signs of distress.
She swallows and tears well in her pretty blues. “Not really, no.”
“You will be,” I assure her. “You have me to take care of you.”
Her mask slips and for a brief moment, she looks at me as though it’s exactly what she wants. For me to take care of her.
Consider it done, Miss B.
“Y-You should go,” she stammers. “I need to leave. I have to meet someone for dinner.”
I step back, irritation burning in my gut. “You’re still going on that date with a douchebag your daddy set you up with?”
Guilt has her flinching and unable to look at me. “I have to.”
“No, Kerry, you don’t,” I growl, my words dripping with anger. “Not now.”
Teary eyes finally meet mine. “What happened here can’t happen again, Mr. Mullins.”
Mr. Fucking Mullins.
“You know I won’t agree to that.” I yank my phone from my pocket and open it. “What’s your number? At least let me check in on you later.”
To my surprise, she recites her number and then she sighs. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, you’re willingly going on a date with someone your dad has chosen. He’s essentially arranging your marriage for you. Is that what you want, Miss B? To be forced into a relationship you didn’t choose?”
“None of this is your business,” she exclaims, her voice going shrill and her face turning red.
“You’re wrong, beautiful,” I grind out. “It became my business the second you let me touch you. You’re mine, even if you refuse to admit it yet.”
She turns away from me, gripping the edge of the desk. “Just go. Please.”
Stepping behind her, I run my fingertip down her spine over her silky white shirt. “I’ll go, but I’m calling you later so you can tell me all about your date. Promise me you’ll answer and then I’ll leave.”
“Yes,” she breathes. “I’ll answer.”
“Good girl.” I give her sexy ass a playful smack. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Three
Kerry
I pace the foyer of the Italian restaurant, waiting on my date to arrive, a bundle of nerves. Not because of the date. Because of him.
Zane.
We kissed.
Oh, God, we kissed.
And, rather than hating it, I loved it. Ache for more. Yearn for him to hold me in his arms. Everything in me craved to throw in the towel and just give in. Give in to the feelings he evokes when around me. To, for once, ignore the rules in front of me and make my own.
Instead, I pushed him away.
Hardest thing I’ve ever done, too.
I glance at the clock. Fifteen after five. Maybe Sean will be a no-show and I can leave. My fingers itch to text Zane. I already told him what happened can’t happen again, but he’s not the type to listen. I should try anyway. Pulling my phone out from my purse, I glance over the text from Daddy saying Sean was running late and find Zane in my phone. I expect a nickname for himself or something silly, but all it’s listed under is Z.
Me: You shouldn’t worry about me.
His response is immediate.
Z: I do a lot of things I shouldn’t.
My heart flutters at his words. Kissing and touching me are definitely at the top of the list, but he did it anyway.
Me: Perhaps you should turn over a new leaf. Try being good for a change.
Z: How’s that working out for you, Miss B?
Me: Fabulous.
Z: I can hear your sarcasm from a mile away.
Me: A mile? Where are you?
Z: It’s a joke. Where did the douchebag take you anyway? Obviously not anywhere good if you’re sneaking in texts to me.
Me: The new Italian place downtown. It smells good, but my date is late.
Z: Need a fill in? I’m actually three miles away, but I could be there in five.
The thought of him sharing a meal with me thrills me. However, that cannot happen. Not while he’s a student at Brown High.
Me: He’ll be here soon. No need to worry about me.
Z: Just get shitfaced. That’ll get you through the boring date. You can sneak off to the bathroom and call me if you need entertaining.
Me: I don’t drink. I’ll have to endure the boredom without any aides.
Z: That doesn’t surprise me. You really are a good girl. Don’t forget to call me later, beautiful, so I don’t worry.
My chest tightens at his words. Had I met Zane anywhere aside from school, I know we would’ve hit it off right off the bat. I wouldn’t even mind the age gap if he were just a few years older and if seeing him didn’t affect my employment. Life never works out the way it’s supposed to.
As if on cue, a handsome man in an expensive suit struts in. He has the same air of superiority my father does. Smug. Arrogant. Untouchable. His gait is no-nonsense as he approaches me, as if doing me a favor by showing up finally.
“You must be Kerry,” he says, a forced smile on his face. “Sorry about my tardiness. I’m working on a big case that’s stolen nearly all of my free time. Forgive me, sweetheart.”
I cringe because it’s the same endearment Daddy uses, not to mention spoken in the same condescending tone.
“It’s fine. Sean, is it?”
“Excuse my manners. Sean Gentry.” He shakes my hand and then glances at my phone still in the
grip of my other one. “I hope I’ll have your attention tonight and not that.”
Heat burns up my neck, settling on my cheeks. I feel like I’ve been chastised for being impolite and I haven’t even done anything wrong. Like the dutiful girl I am, I mutter out an apology before shoving my phone into my purse.
“Thank you.” He flashes me a shark-like grin, revealing all his white, shiny teeth. “Now let’s get you a drink.”
Me: Save me.
Z: Really?
Me: No, I’m kidding. But you were right. Lamest date ever. He wasn’t thrilled when I declined wine and asked for sweet tea instead.
Z: There’s my good girl.
My heart patters in my chest at his words. I shouldn’t be texting him, but compared to the kiss we shared, it feels far more innocent. Besides, I promised I’d check in.
Me: I should get back out there. If I waste any more time hiding in the bathroom, he might suspect I’m avoiding him and texting. I already got in trouble once for having my phone.
Z: You? In trouble? Sorry, I can’t imagine it.
Me: Oh, I was in trouble. It would have made you proud.
Z: Did you take your hair down for him?
On a whim, I take a selfie.
Me: No, I only do that for you.
Rather than waiting for his reply, I shove my phone down into my purse and take a calming breath before exiting the bathroom. I’m on a date with a man my daddy wants me to be with and I’m ruining it by texting with my hot student. It’s horrible, but I don’t feel guilty. I didn’t want to go on this date in the first place. If Daddy would stop to consider what I want for once, he’d know this.
When I reach the table, our food is sitting there. Sean hasn’t touched his and his expression is cool. I guess I spent more time in the bathroom than I thought.
“This looks amazing,” I say, unable to keep the nervous quiver from my voice. “Thank you for waiting on me.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
The meal is extra salty. I want to complain to the waiter and have them remake it, but based on the disapproving glare Sean is giving me, I don’t think it’s wise. I gulp down my sweet tea, hoping to wash it down instead. The waiter refills my tea and disappears again.
“You see that guy over there,” he says, pointing behind me. “He works at the firm with your father and me.”
I twist in my seat to see who he’s pointing at. The room spins, immediately making me nauseous. Squeezing my eyes shut, I will the woozy feeling to disappear. Slowly, I reopen my eyes and turn back to Sean. There’s a glint in his eyes I don’t trust.
“Feeling okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m not sure the food is sitting right,” I admit. “It was a little salty.”
“You should have told me,” he challenges, his eyes darkening. “We could have returned it.”
“It’s fine,” I say, picking up my tea glass. I’m bringing it to my lips when I notice white residue on top.
“Is there a problem?”
“I, uh, no. I think I might throw up. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
“Let me grab the check,” he says, faux concern in his voice. “I’ll run you home too, since you don’t seem to be feeling so well.”
It takes everything in me to keep from wobbling or puking on my way to the restroom. Once inside, I lock myself in a stall and fish my phone out. Everything is spinning too much to text, so I dial Zane.
“Must have been lame if—”
“Zane,” I croak out. “I think…I think I’ve been drugged.”
“What?” The furious growl has me bursting into tears. “Hey, beautiful,” he says, his voice softening, “talk to me. Explain what happened.”
“I went to the…I went to the bathroom. When I came back, the…the food was there and…I…it was salty.” I lean my head against the metal stall wall. “I drank my tea. He, uh, distracted me. When I looked in my glass…I can’t be sure, but…Zane, I don’t feel so good.”
“I’m on my way, Kerry, okay? Don’t worry. I’m coming to get you.”
I swipe at the tears on my cheek. “He says he’s going to take me home.”
“You’re not going anywhere with that douchebag. Stay put. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I whisper. “Hurry.”
We hang up and I place my phone back into my purse. Bile crawls up my throat, forcing me to my knees in a quick scramble to reach the toilet on time. I puke up the contents of my stomach, sobbing the whole time. When I’ve purged my system of the horrible dinner, and what I believe to be the drugs I ingested, I finally climb to my feet. I’m just washing my mouth out and splashing water on my face when Sean enters the bathroom.
“You look terrible,” Sean says, frowning. “Want me to call your father? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I want to scream in his face.
You know what you did!
My lips refuse to move. Tears well and spill out of their own accord. He rushes over to me, wrapping an arm around me. I’m disgusted by his touch.
“Let’s get you out of here. Don’t worry, I already spoke to management that you’d clearly eaten undercooked food or something. They comped our meal, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I’ll be filing a formal complaint later.
He guides me out of the restaurant, past all the curious onlookers. As soon as we make it outdoors, I start dragging my feet.
“You can, uh, just go. I have a ride,” I murmur, unable to meet his hard stare.
“Your father?”
“No, my—”
“Brother,” a deep, familiar voice growls. “Keith Bowden.”
I snap my head up, locking into Zane’s intense green ones. “There you are. See, Sean, my brother is here.”
Sean releases me, his jaw clenching. “I could have gotten you home, sweetheart. You didn’t need to call your brother.”
“It’s fine. I know you have your important case you’re working on. Thanks for dinner.” I force a smile. “Good night, Sean.”
His eyes flicker with barely contained rage. Finally, he bites back whatever he was going to say, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “We’ll have to do it again sometime soon. I cook one helluva steak. Next time, we can dine at my place.”
He stalks off, climbs into his Porsche parked out front, and then zooms away. Zane pounces on me, drawing me into his arms and hugging me tight.
“It’s okay,” he croons. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
I cling to him, my tears soaking his shirt. “I don’t feel so good.”
“I know, beautiful. I’m going to take you to the ER.”
“N-No. Just take me home.”
He pulls back to look at me, his palms sliding to my cheeks. “I can’t do that. Not until I know you’re going to be okay. Once I know you’re not going to die on me, I’ll take you home. Trust me?”
“Y-Yes.”
The softness in his stare cuts me deep, burrowing its way into my heart. I don’t know how or why I chose Zane Mullins of all people to connect with, but it’s happening and I’m powerless to stop it.
I feel like whatever’s been brewing between us for months has finally been tapped into. When he touched and kissed me in my office, we crossed a line we can’t come back from. I’m terrified for what could happen, but I’m also relieved. The fantasy come to life feels realer than anything I’ve ever known.
Chapter Four
Zane
“Again,” Dr. Morris says, frowning at Kerry, “if you think you were drugged, you really ought to let me call Sheriff McMahon.”
She stubbornly shakes her head, glowering at me. “Like I told you already. It was the food. I think it’s just a simple case of food poisoning.”
“Your brother disagrees,” Dr. Morris challenges. “Right, Keith?”
Her eyes roll, but she doesn’t correct him. We may have fudged a bit on our relationship so I could come back with her.
“Maybe I’m just too overprotective,” I grumble.
“If that’s what she wants to believe, who are we to change that?”
Dr. Morris crosses his arms over his chest, studying her for a beat before glancing my way again. “I trust you won’t let her eat there ever again.”
And with him.
“Never,” I growl, understanding his unspoken words.
Relief floods through him. “Good. The fluids should have flushed any toxins out and since your vitals are good, I feel comfortable discharging you now, Miss Bowden, but make sure you take tomorrow off to rest up.”
It takes forever, but eventually, we’re back in my car and headed to her place. She’s quiet as she motions the directions leading up to her apartment. As soon as we park, she tries to hurry away, but I catch up to her, not willing to let her make the trek alone.
“You rescued me. I’m safe now,” she mutters. “You can go.”
“Nah, beautiful, I’m not done taking care of you yet.”
She doesn’t resist me when I tuck her into my side as we walk. The elevator ride two floors up is uneventful. We make it inside her apartment a few moments later. The floral scent is stronger here and I love it. It’s thick in the air, and like a creep, I inhale it.
“Why don’t you shower and wash up?” I suggest. “I’ll make some tea.”
Rather than arguing, she nods and disappears. I flip the lock on the apartment door and make my way into her kitchen. Everything is neat and orderly. The apartment lacks personality. It makes me wonder what it is Kerry Bowden likes besides pleasing people like her father. I rummage around until I find a kettle. My nanny, Peg, used to make tea for me when I was little and would sob over missing my mother. When Mom left my dad, she left me too. As though I was just as guilty as him for his affair. I was three at the time, so I didn’t understand, and by the time I knew what an affair was, I couldn’t be mad at Dad since he wasn’t the one who left me. It was her.