The Count (Twisted Classics Book 3)

by Monica Corwin

  With intent, he slapped on a lazy smile and locked his eyes to mine. I couldn’t look away from the long glide of his hand up his shaft, and back down.

  “Anything you want to say?” His eyes held the challenge, and I never backed down from a fight.

  I shifted side to side on the bed to snuggle into the soft sheets. They smelled of him, like spices and wood smoke. I continued holding his gaze while I slid my hand down my belly over the short curls at the apex of my thighs and in between. His eyes shot there immediately, and I opened my legs as wide as I could hold them. “Nope, I’m good.”

  “Now whose teasing?” He said, a little breathless.

  I slowly circled my clit with one finger and watched his face. “I’m not teasing. You were invited to join me. You’re the one who wanted to go over there and handle things yourself.”

  Instead of firing back, he bit his bottom lip and looked down the length of my body like he could put marks on me just with his eyes. Nothing on my skin, but I felt the weight of that look. It caused me to circle my clit a little faster. My body yearning for him to fill it.

  My actions spurred him to stroke himself harder. A wicked cycle we’d created. Who would come first? Would they win or lose?

  I drew my hand down and inserted a finger inside myself. It set him off. He lunged toward the bed, between my legs and angled his dick right over my clit. “Say it,” he whispered.

  “No,” I said, even as I arched up into him.

  “No.” He used the head of him to rub right on the spot which sent shivers through me.

  “No.” I repeated.

  He arched his eyebrow. I wrapped my hands up around his neck, and bat my lashes.

  “No it is then.”

  He didn’t enter me. For a moment, I thought he would do it anyway. Give us both some relief. Instead he peered between our bodies and watched as he took up a steady rhythm on my clit. Massaging with his cock instead of his hands. And God damn it, he knew what worked.

  I squirmed hoping he’d slip lower, and touch me where I needed. He even batted my hand away when I tried to reach between us to give myself a little something more.

  “You are a sadist now too.”

  He shrugged, seemingly focusing on his work. His chest pressed out hard with each exhale. “I never said I was or wasn’t. You know what you need to do to make this end.”

  How had someone who’d been in prison so long learn this level of control? Must be gifted I mused trying to shake off the lust, the sensation bombarding me. I could get off like this but it wouldn’t be as satisfying as squeezing around him as I let go. Still. I wouldn’t say it.

  I lay back, and arched my arms over my head to dig into the covers.

  “Is this enough for you?” He asked. His gaze still pinned where our bodies met.

  Not only teasing now, but mocking me. I opened my eyes again to look down between us. His wrist was clenched tight, his entire body drawn out like a bow string ready to strike or snap at the slightest pressure.

  I could be that pressure. With gentle caresses, I trailed my hands over his broad shoulders, down to his waist. And before he could make a move to stop me I cupped his balls.

  He exhaled loud and hard and it was so fucking satisfying to see that careful control break. Fuck me, he did. He flipped me over onto my belly, dragged my hips up, and rammed into me with a grunt.

  I held onto the pillows, put my fingers back where he’d been touching, and let him ride me into the coverlet. He pumped into me over and over, my face pressed into soft cotton. I couldn’t breathe but right now, I didn’t even need to. My orgasm tripped with his and I came screaming into the covers while he grunted heavily behind me.

  I sagged down. He let go of my hips then smacked my ass hard.

  When I yelped he said, “you deserved that.”

  I rolled over so I could look at him. “Deserved what? A good plow. I did deserve that. Thank you.”

  He went to swat my ass again and I rolled away.

  “Cheeky fucking woman,” he muttered. He moved away from the bed in a rustle.

  I snuggled into the blankets now a cradle to the exhaustion washing over me. The quicker he learned I never backed down from a challenge the better.

  TWELVE

  MERCY

  I woke with no idea where I was. It didn’t particularly concern me, it happened every once in a while. I didn’t take men back to my place. As the morning light seeped in, my focus cleared, and I stared up at the pale gray ceiling of Will’s room.

  Last night felt different. We had talked, like adults, and then fucked like teenagers. We played. I couldn’t remember the last time I played with a man in the bedroom. Not since…

  On that thought I rolled over and climbed out of bed. Will’s side sat cold so I dressed and went to find him. He’d parked at the dining room table already. Bacon and toast remains littered his plate.

  He glanced up when I sat down. The bacon and eggs was as delicious as ever. If I didn’t get out of here soon, I’d need bigger clothes. And what would he do then, with a bloated doll who doesn’t fit into her gowns?

  “You were snoring so I didn’t want to wake you.”

  I mumbled through a full mouth then swallowed. “No problem. All that walking around last night got to me.”

  “Should I be offended…”

  I shrugged and couldn’t help but smile. His tone was light and playful and I couldn’t get a read on him. A line bisected the space between his brows and he kept the newspaper between us like a shield. No, I could read him and his cute tone was the act. I put my bacon down and prepared for whatever I did this time.

  “Tell me.”

  He looked over the paper. “What?”

  “I did something. You’re upset, or angry, or something.” I waved at his coiled posture and the paper. Which he snapped shut the second I motioned at it.

  There we go. Down to business. “For the record, I don’t like games. I’d rather just get down to business. Say what you need to say”

  In an abrupt turn, I could hear the fury in his voice now. “I’m more of a show instead of tell kind of man. Get dressed. And we can discuss the problem in the car.”

  He slapped the paper on the table and I ate my bacon as he stalked away. And he called me dramatic. I ate at the pace I wanted and dressed in a fitted pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He stood outside my door when I exited.

  We headed toward the elevator. He pointed to a jacket and baseball cap on the table. “Put those on. It’s cold.”

  Thinking arguing might make things worse, I did as he bid. At the curb, we walked and I was glad for the comfy clothes. The chilly air made me happy for the jacket too, but I wasn’t going to say anything to him about that.

  A brisk morning, but the sun shining down made it manageable. He kept a fast pace and I had to lengthen my stride to the max to keep up with him. We turned a corner and when I caught sight of our destination across the street I froze.

  He paused at the curb. “Something wrong?” His tone laced with derision.

  I calculated the odds and then stayed still. “Fine.”

  He faced me. “Fine, what? Say it, and this time I won’t play any fucking games with you.”

  The sweetness of the previous night felt foolish in the harsh light of his anger. “Ashley.” I whispered his name.

  He stepped back toward me to lower his voice. “Last night I knew something was up. I could tell by the way you were acting. Then I read that note you left and things went sideways. But I didn’t forget. And guess who I saw in the newspaper this morning. So tell me now,” he pointed at my face,” this is your only chance to come clean about it. Test me and I will rip him apart along with his business.”

  I shoved my hands in the coat pockets and met his flinty stare. “Ashley is my business partner. And the face of the legal side of my operation.”

  He shook his head and threw up his hands. “How did you keep it hidden?”

  “No one knows about it, or Ashley,
except me. No one sees him except me, or Taylor. I keep him away from anyone and everything that might be tainted by…”

  I let that lay there between us. He lowered his hands by scrubbing them over his hair and down the back of his neck. “This is my fault too. I should have known you’d be hiding something. I knew you would never surrender to me completely. Why is it so difficult to accept you’ve lost?” He said the last part quietly.

  I couldn’t look at him. He’d jabbed at an old would. All the times people told me “you can’t. You can’t. You can’t,” rang in my ears. And now this fucking dick swept in and proves them all right. It didn’t matter that I’d had twenty years of doing just fine, beforehand.

  Anger bubbled in my chest and I spun away to head back toward the apartment.

  It wasn’t the action he expected since he scrambled behind me and then around to cut me off. “Answer me.”

  “Why should I? You’ve got everything all figured out anyway. You’ve beaten me. You’ve won. What does it matter? Do you have to rub my face in it?” My voice rose, but I couldn’t stop it. “It’s not enough that you’ve ruined my life, taken me prisoner, used my body for your little…games…you have to make me debase myself too.”

  I regretted the jab about the games. It wasn’t as if he didn’t ask me if I wanted it every single time he touched me. And I just kept throwing myself at him over and fucking over.

  I shoved past him and kept walking. He caught up easily but kept silent until we made it back to his apartment. The entire walk I pictured Ashley in my office, terrified. I took off Will’s jacket and shoved it at his chest. “What are you going to do to him?

  He tossed the neoprene to the floor. “I haven’t decided yet. Why? Any ideas on what you would most like to throw in my face tomorrow?”

  Looking at him made me want to punch him. I marched to the bar and poured a finger of scotch. The good stuff just to fuck with him.

  After I tossed it back, he snatched the glass and sat it by the bottle. “You made a deal with me. You always keep your work, right? What made this different?” He crowded me again, and I shoved at his chest. Immovable, so I turned and let him glower at the back of my head.

  “Did you fuck him?” He asked, low and gravely. The tone perforated my anger, but I still couldn’t look at him.

  “No. Ashely and I have never even so much as kissed. He’s scared of me. That’s the way I’d prefer to keep it.”

  “Why?”

  “Men like Ashely respond to only a couple of things: money, sex, fear, loyalty. When we met I could tell sex was out since he’d been in love with his friend for years. I could use fear, loyalty, and money. I chose all three to keep him in line. Fear turned out to work the best.”

  I toyed with the bottles, turning them on the granite slab where they sat so the labels all faced outward toward me.

  “And why did you keep him a secret?”

  It was easier to talk to him this way. I didn’t have to see the look of disappointment stamped on his face. “Because I promised him I would. He knew what was happening. And if he got caught he faced jail time, not just a change in management. I promised I’d never…” I stopped before I said things I’d sworn to never speak aloud.

  “Go on,” he prompted.

  “No. That’s it. It was a promise to protect him. Keep him out of jail. He’s effective. He does his job well. If it’s about the money,” I turned to face him now. “I can just cut you in, or we can organize the back end of this thing.”

  “You know that is not why I’m angry. I gave you a second chance to keep your word and you’ve blown it again. How would you deal with someone in your control defying you at every turn?”

  I ducked my chin and inspected the carpet.

  “That’s what I thought,” he continued. “But, I’m feeling rather generous toward you at the moment. So…I’m going to offer you one last deal. One more chance to do what you’ve promised.”

  I reached for the hem of my shirt. Shame and desire already swirling through me.

  He grasped both my hands in one of his. “I don’t mean that.”

  “What then?”

  He pulled away, lengthening the distance between us as he looked at me. “Tonight, we are going over every single detail. And you’re going to make sure the record has fucking hospital corners it’s so straight.”

  Er…what? “My punishment is telling you what you already know?”

  He lurched forward anger in his eyes again. “Obviously I don’t know everything since you had half a business tucked away in the corner. And from what I know about your numbers and operation it’s a lucrative one.”

  I shrugged. “I said Ash is good at his job.”

  He snatched the glass I’d used, refilled it with the double the scotch, and took it with him to the couch. I stood for a minute, and then followed.

  He’d asked me what I’d do with someone who defied me this much. Taylor would have already been to see them. Twice.

  I kept still and quiet waiting while he drank in small sips next to me. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Can I just ask, what all this is about? Why not kill me. It seems like that would be so much easier. You said I fit into your plans, but so far, all I’ve done is press my tits in men’s faces and smile at their damn stupid jokes. What actual contribution am I making?”

  He slumped back into the couch’s embrace. “You’re more than distraction. You’re also disguise.”

  Now I was confused. “Disguise?”

  He sipped again. “You remember the first dress I bought you? You are part of this world.”

  I started to protest, but he held his hand up. “Not in that way, I know. But you fit in with these circles, these people. You know what to wear, what to say. And while I’ve learned all the niceties there is a certain amount of living which seems to go with it.”

  Hmm…I hadn’t considered that. How would a man whose been locked up for two decades navigate the top tiers of criminal society? His revelation somehow made me feel a little better about my place there.

  I leaned back into the couch and ended up sliding down his indent to lay against his shoulder. When he didn’t push me away, I let myself get comfortable and take his drink.

  “You’re not what I expected,” I whispered once the liquid courage lined my throat.

  “You are so much more than I expected.”

  Then he stood, walked into his room, and shut the door. I stared at it wishing for him to come back out, but he didn’t.

  Alone again for both of us.

  THIRTEEN

  EDDY

  When my alarm sounded for dinner I didn’t move from the edge of my bed. Did I apologize to her about earlier? Did I ignore it all, pretend I didn’t say anything?

  I stopped thinking about it, as I had been all afternoon, and walked out into the main room. She already sat at the table. Her hair was twisted in intricate knots on top of her head, her olive skin glowing in the candle light? I looked around, where had the candles come from?

  I took my seat and watched her carefully. Like a beautifully painted spider waiting for her moment to strike.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she grumbled dropping her red-lipped smile.

  She wasn’t in diamonds and silk, but cotton. The dress hugged every inch of her body, and at the end of her long legs spike red heels that looked like they belonged in an evidence bag.

  “What’s all this?” I asked and dragged my napkin across my lap.

  She poured me a glass of wine and slipped her smile back into place. “Call it, making amends. Tonight, I’m playing dress up just for you.”

  I scanned her again. If she dressed for me, she should have come to the table nude. But I didn’t want to mock her efforts or make her feel foolish. “You look beautiful.”

  She flushed and I thought it might be a real reaction. Dinner was already laid out so I removed the lid my plate and stared down at … I don’t know what. “Did you change the menu?”

 
; She nodded, pointing her fork at the pasta dish on my plate. “I didn’t just change it. I cooked it.”

  The world slid a little sideways on its axis. She’d dressed up for me. She cooked for me. No one had done anything for me since…before.

  My first instance was to ask her what she wanted. What was the game or angle I’d missed here. But second glance told me this wasn’t a game. She sat here trying to make amends and I should relax, eat my carbs, and play nice.

  I feared moments like this would erode the plans waiting to be completed. Letting anything that wasn’t about my revenge into my life would sand away the edges of the anger I needed sharp enough to cut. To kill.

  But looking at her I couldn’t do anything but grab my fork and start eating. I could feel her eyes on me over her own plate until I gave a few encouraging nods. Her cooking tasted incredible. Not that I expected any less when she’d been taught her he Nona as a child. The only family member that didn’t beat her ruthlessly just for existing.

  After we both had our fill, I went for another bottle of wine. While I’d been gone, she’d removed her fearsome shoes and sat cross legged on the chair opposite mine. Her dress hiked up around her hips. Even in the candle light I caught the smudges of faint bruises on her inner thighs. Had I done that?

  I sat and poured more wine for both of us. “What now, Chef?”

  She chuckled and sipped. I decided I liked her this way. When I’d spent weeks following her, watching her every move to make my plan, I’d not seen this woman. This Mercy appeared—dare I think it—happy.

  And why did that inflate a balloon in my lungs. I hid my sudden inability to draw a full breath with a sip of the wine.

  “I thought we might talk. Tell me about jail.”

  The abrupt mention of the worst times of my life popped that poor little balloon prematurely.

  “I mean twenty years is a long time. Did you have something specific in mind you wanted to know?”

  She leaned forward, and I fell in a spell watching the candlelight play with the shimmer on her eyelids.

  “I don’t know. Who was this man you mentioned before? The one you studied with.”