His loss.
I lean up against the wall, watching the crowd and filling up with delicacies as Alexei stays nearby, silent and brooding, his face slightly scrunched in concern. Thinking about his father, maybe?
“You don’t have to babysit me, you know? I won’t steal anything, and I won’t cause another scene.” Hopefully. I mean, I can’t promise anything, but I sure as hell will try my best. “Just because I made you bring me here doesn’t mean you have to—”
“You’re my date,” Alexei says, aghast as his nostrils flare and he looks me over in annoyance. “I don’t expect you to steal anything. There are much easier places to steal whatever you could find here.” He’s right, but I wonder how he knows that. “But it would be rude to bring you here and leave you.”
“If you want to go home and check on your dad, it’s alright,” I assure him, and he gives me such a dark look that I can’t help but wonder what he’d be like in bed. Plus, he smells heavenly, like soap and vanilla, and I am living for it.
“You would not want to be left alone here with these people, trust me. Don’t bring it up again.” He speaks to me like he expects me to obey. It annoys me and ruffles my feathers at the same time it turns me on. I wouldn’t mind playing this game in the bedroom, but I don’t much like it outside of it.
Anyway, he has a point there.
“Take me around and point out any faces you don’t recognize. I’d love you forever if you did.”
He grimaces at that, but nods, snapping his fingers to summon a waiter who whisks my empty plate and napkin away. We head into the crowd, making our way from one hideous painting to another, and I make careful note of anyone that Alexei doesn’t recognize.
I feel like there should be some family resemblance between Ash and Aspen, right?
“That’s Mayor Kelly,” Alexei whispers, nodding in the direction of a tall, brunette man with a happy smile and a cheerful laugh. Thing is, I live in the southside. I know what a monster looks like when I see one.
This man is one of the worst sorts, the type that hides behind grins and laughter and good cheer. I see him, and I have an automatic physical reaction, just the way I do around Aspen … sometimes.
That is, when I’m not lusting after him like crazy.
I watch Mayor Kelly for a while, seeing who he’s interacting with, who he isn’t interacting with, more like. I figure if he’s so ashamed of his son that he has zero internet presence, zero social media, that he’s basically a ghost … well, he wouldn’t interact with him in here, now would he?
“May I ask what your plans are for Ash Kelly and why you’re so desperate to meet him?”
I give Alexei a look.
“You might be willing to give your information away for free, but I charge by the second.”
Instead of getting annoyed at that, he nods.
“I’ll give you five hundred dollars right now if you’ll tell me.”
“If you have five hundred dollars on you, why’d you need that ten grand back that we stole?” I ask, trying and failing not to find it ironically amusing that I robbed the guy at gunpoint and now here he is, trying to be all chivalrous and upstanding and whatnot. “You clearly don’t need the money.”
Alexei’s mouth tightens into a thin line, and he gives a slight shake of his head.
“My father’s cut me off from any access to our family money because of my grades and also … an accident at my prep school. I had to sell a few select items from around the house to get that money, and I need it for a buy-in. There’s a race in Portland that—”
“In Portland?” I ask him, eyes glittering. I’ve never met anyone who actually has an in with that track and the rich dickheads who run it. “You’ve raced there?”
“I’m not as terrible as I appeared on the track the other night. I’m not used to—”
“Ratchet-ass shit?” I fill in, and he shrugs. See, I figured as much. He has skills, but he didn’t know how to improvise to make up for the random and chaotic hazards of Prescott. “Do you think that, if I gave you the money back, you could take me there? I’d just watch the first time around.”
He seems to consider that for a moment.
“If you tell me why you’re so interested in Ash Kelly, and what you plan on doing with him, I don’t see why not.”
Fuck yes!
I wet my lips and lean in close, just a skosh more than that six-inch buffer I was warned about. Alexei tenses, but he doesn’t pull back. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him anything, but … might be worth the risk. I want to see that race; I want to know what’ll happen if I elevate the stakes.
“My girls pulled Ash Kelly over, same way we did you, and he shot one of my friends.” I draw back just slightly, finding Alexei with a dark look on his face.
“You’ll kill him?” he inquires, but I just smile back at him in a mysterious but hopefully charming sort of way.
“Could you point me in the direction of the bathroom?” I ask, and Alexei cringes. “What? I have to pee. Do you just hold it until you get home or something?”
“I don’t drink or eat in public,” he explains yet again, gesturing for me to follow him. Alexei uses his foot to push open a swinging door for me. It leads into a huge open space full of yet more paintings, and there are two more doors—the men’s room and the women’s.
I slip into the women’s room, not entirely surprised to find a palatial bathroom with chaise lounges, marble counters, and free goodies like tiny perfume bottles, mints, wipes, feminine products, and, of course, a bathroom attendant.
I grab the nearest stall, ruck my dress up, and do my business. When I emerge, I wave the attendant off. I can wash and dry my own hands, thanks.
When I step out of the bathroom, Alexei is gone. Guess he’s waiting back in the gallery. I start for the door when a prickle hits the back of my neck. I turn to see Aspen watching me from the corner of the small room.
“Did I not warn you to stay away?” he asks, his right hand in his jacket pocket. On purpose? To hide something? I have no idea. But when I look into his eyes, a jolt takes over me, and I find my hands curling into fists, sweat beading on the sides of my face.
Shit.
He pushes up from the wall and makes his way over to me. I move back a step but not before I catch a hint of his cologne. Roses and jasmine which is … is it different than what I was smelling before or am I just picking up different notes?
He’s wearing the same suit, same tie, same watch … but his cufflinks are missing?
I look up to meet his gaze and find it suddenly hard to swallow.
“I thought you should know that my brother’s leaving for Tokyo, and that he isn’t coming back.”
My lips part in surprise at Aspen’s words, and righteous anger surges over me. I start to open my mouth, but he cuts me off, taking another step forward and getting too close to me.
I end up moving away from him again, finding my back pressed against a white wall beside a particularly ugly painting with a single brown line smeared across it, like a shit stain on a pair of tighty-whities. Gross.
Aspen gets far too close to me, lifting his left hand like he might just touch my face, and I slap it away.
“Don’t make me throat punch you again,” I caution, and that softness in his face disappears, hardening into a violent mask of frustration.
“If you keep poking into this or continue to seek me out, I’ll kill your whole family.”
My eyes widen, but when I move to hit him, he grabs my wrist and slams it against the wall beside me. His mouth descends on mine, and I groan against his lips. He does the same, like a drowning man, his sharp tongue teasing the seam of my mouth until I let him in.
My cunt throbs violently, begging to be filled with Aspen’s cock, but … but … I reach down and grab his junk, twisting and squeezing it until he gasps in pain and stumbles back. He runs his left arm across his mouth, but he keeps his right palm facing away from me.
If only I could get a look at it.<
br />
He stares at me, breathing heavily, as if realizing he made a mistake in kissing me. It seems to have been a momentary lapse in judgment. Aspen makes sure to correct his error with a vicious backlash.
“Sweet old Grandma Patricia,” he begins, and I grit my teeth, too upset and frustrated to care that he’s clutching at his crotch, his face reddened slightly with pain. “Your mother, Geneva. Aunt Anita, Uncle Bob, Uncle Jack. Your crazy sister, Alexis …”
“Careful, Aspen, or I might just come for you and your brother,” I warn, fingers twitching. If necessary, I will take my fancy footwear off and stab this motherfucker with my shoe.
“You can’t watch everyone you love all of the time,” he continues, his eyes taking on that endless, ocean floor black. Not the slick oil shine from earlier, but a depthless, fathomless sea of shadows. “Bastian? Nisha? Jennifer? There are so many good people gathered around you, Scarlett Force.”
“Is there something you want to tell me?” I ask, wishing desperately that the impossible were possible. How can I both like and hate this man in equal measures? How can he make my pussy as dry as the Sahara Desert one minute, and monsoon country the next? “Anything at all?”
“Leave me and my brother alone if you don’t want your family and friends to start dropping like flies. And forget about Ash: he’s leaving and he’s not coming back. Once again, he’s done something unforgivable.” Aspen turns his head to one side, studying another of the hideous paintings. “You have a lot going for you Scarlett Force, but the money and resources to chase a Kelly boy around the world? Not likely or advisable.”
“You and your brother,” I say, my breath heaving in and out with sharp, heavy pants. “You’re the same to me. You’re both monsters.”
“So we are,” Aspen agrees softly, and then I’m storming past him and he’s grabbing onto my arm. His fingers burn where they touch my bare skin and I look up to meet his dark gaze. “Don’t ever trust me again. Even now … stay away from me, Scarlett.”
My little black heart shatters to pieces. I really fuckin’ liked this guy, didn’t I? Despite his hot-cold behavior, despite Lemon, despite every single goddamn red flag telling me to stay away from him. What a huge mistake. I really am a hopeless romantic, aren’t I?
“We could’ve had something, you know,” I offer up with a laugh and a shake of my head. “But you’ve ruined it. I hope you and Lemon are happy together.”
I jerk my arm away from him and shove my way through the door, finding Alexei waiting for me like an honor guard.
He seems surprised at my red face and slightly swollen lips.
“Is something amiss?” he asks, and then, before I can remember that I shouldn’t be doing it, I lift up on my toes and press a chaste peck to his lips.
“I’ve got to go. Thank you for bringing me here, Alexei. Stop by the track sometime and I’ll kick your ass all over again. Oh, and don’t forget to text me next time you go to Portland.” I offer him up another smile, taking in his wide green eyes and shaking form before I turn around and saunter my way out of that fancy party like I own the place.
I could, if I wanted.
One day, I will.
One day, I’ll have all the power these psychos have and more.
I have the valet bring my car around, climbing into the leather-scented darkness of the Pantera, and grabbing my phone from the passenger seat.
I make a conference call to Bastian and Nisha at the same time, and they both answer quickly.
“How did it go?” Basti asks, but I can’t talk about it just now.
It feels like the entire night was just one big disappointment.
“Come over and spend the night,” I say, looking back at the imposing white stone and glass of the art gallery. Alexei emerges, and I make out his taut, sleek silhouette at the top of the stairs. “I could really use some friend cuddles, popcorn, and a shitty movie.”
It won’t be the same without Lemon; we all know that.
“On my way,” Basti says, his voice soft.
“Already in the car, Queen,” Nisha agrees, and I smile.
Do I let the Ash thing go? Or do I escalate this?
Because even if Ash is hopping countries, that doesn’t mean Aspen is.
I could just as easily punish him for Evelyn’s death, now couldn’t I?
Nobody—not even a pretty fuckboy—threatens my family and friends and gets away with it.
Or lies to me. Because whatever it is that I’m missing, I can feel it. Aspen Kelly is lying, and I’m going to figure out, what, exactly, it is that he’s lying about.
Alexei
What a nightmare that was.
Scarlett Force is … she’s something entirely different than I’ve ever encountered before. Not only is she loudmouthed and crude, hyper-sexualized, and laser-focused on causing me maximum discomfort, but she’s also …
Fuck.
I hit the gas, testing the Bugatti’s limits—of which there are few—on the straight stretch after the last curve in the road that leads directly to our estate.
Scarlett.
Scarlett.
Her body is round in all the right places, with a nipped little waist, and large but perky breasts, a rounded ass, long legs. I could barely take my eyes off of her inked hand, the way her fingers curled around the delicate stem of the champagne flute as she struggled to push back her anger toward Aspen Kelly.
The righteous hatred in her eyes when she looked at him, and when she spoke about Ash Kelly, that was encouraging for me. It feels as if I’ve found an ally, someone in this world who would rather stab those pretentious fools than suck their dicks.
I wish my father had sold his business and retired the way he kept promising me. After my mother died, I truly believed we were done with all of this. I would give it all up—the house, the cars (even the Bugatti), the clothes—just to distance myself from that den of wolves.
Scarlett, she doesn’t worship excess wealth, lies, arrogance, and power.
She despises it.
Although, she did kiss me without my permission. To be fair, it seemed like an automatic response, part of her thanks for acting as her date to the party. If I weren’t flying down the road at over a hundred and twenty miles an hour, I might touch two gloved fingers to my lips the way I did after she violated me.
But oh, what a violation.
As disgusted as I was, I found my cock thickening inside my slacks—and not for the first time that night. I’m not often attracted to women even though I’m aware in a distant sort of way that I am, most certainly, a heterosexual man.
It’s just … the idea of sex sickens me. Bodily fluids and sweat and saliva. I can’t even imagine relaxing enough to allow myself to partake in any of that. I hardly even masturbate, as I can’t stand the sight of the white fluid that bursts from the head of my cock.
I shudder in disgust, but at the same time, I’m fixated on that brief brush of Scarlett’s lips against my own. When I rubbed at my mouth initially, my white gloved fingers came away with just a smear of her crimson lipstick.
I stripped the gloves off, disposed of them, and donned my last pair, but the memory remains, a stain on my consciousness that I can’t seem to shake.
I wasn’t expecting to see that girl again, although she caught my attention the first time I saw her. They say some people are just inundated with natural charisma. Perhaps that’s what it is?
I’m drawn to her even as I’m simultaneously repulsed.
I went to the track looking for Aspen, hoping he’d be there, wondering if he might race me and allow me a chance to get more information on my father and what, exactly, is going on with his Springfield projects. Clearly, it’s something nefarious, but Pavel has always stubbornly refused to drag me into his business dealings.
For my own protection, likely.
With a frustrated sigh, I slow down and make the sharp left turn onto our driveway, weaving through trees toward the glowing windows of the estate in the distance. At
the very least, we exchanged our Manhattan penthouse for a sprawling mansion buried in the woods. This is, undoubtedly, the most exclusive road in the county, but it’s a far cry from a top floor suite in the city.
In a good way.
I can’t stand the constant press of people, of all that noise, the filthy streets. The woods are preferable. Dirt might scare me, but not as much as humanity does. Bacteria, viruses, bodily fluids. That sort of thing.
As I approach the house, I notice several vehicles parked on the circular stone driveway out front. Hmm. Business, at this time of night on a Friday? I don’t like the ominous implications of that.
Pursing my lips, I squeeze my gloved hands around the wheel with the squeak of leather and turn my headlights off. Keeping my speed slow, I ease the Bugatti onto the narrow road between the house and the large garage where we keep the majority of our cars.
I’ve been living in the guest house out back since we moved here, so it makes more sense for me to park back there. Turning my lights off and keeping the noise down, well, those are just extra precautions.
One can never be too careful when playing games with wolves.
I park outside of the guest house but, rather than head for my room, I take my needles with me, slipping the custom-made thimble onto my right thumb. I unscrew the top and tuck it into my pocket, leaving the poisoned needle underneath exposed.
So astute, that wild woman, Scarlett Diana Force.
I looked into her, of course I did. Because I’ve never met anyone who recognized the hidden capabilities of my thimble the way she did. Her eyes take in everything; they miss nothing. There’s a violent edge to her that intrigues me.
If I were so inclined to try my hand at sex, I would try with someone like her.
No, not someone like her. Her. Exactly her.
I’d had no intention of attending that horrid party, but the idea of showing up with a woman of incomparable wit and beauty such as that? It’d been all too tempting. Not that I let her win; I did indeed need that money back. But I allowed myself to be disoriented by the filthy, unpredictable track. I lost fair and square.
F*ckboy Psychos Page 34