Her memory of the day of the accident hadn’t returned, and her doctor and the therapists she’d worked with didn’t think it ever would. Matisse had bits and pieces of the day, but he hadn’t hit his head as hard she had. Trailing her fingers along the first scar, she found where it met the one on her temple.
She’d taken to hiding it with makeup, not liking the way Matisse’s gaze would automatically go there. He’d frown, pale face growing paler, and he’d inevitably apologize—which she hated. The accident wasn’t his fault.
Tipping her head back, she let the suds run out of her hair.
“Can I come in?”
The voice startled her, and she squealed, grabbing for the bar where she kept her face cloth. “Holy shit, Seok!”
He pulled back the curtain and blushed. “I knocked. I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay with everything that happened…”
Sweet man.
She nodded and had to rub the water out of her eyes. “I’m fine. Just started to feel a little—”
His skin flushed even brighter. “Yeah. I should have made an excuse for you. Given you a chance to clean off, but—” He let out a breath and pinned her with a stare. She could feel it against her skin like he was touching her with his fingertips. “I wanted you to smell like me. I wanted to leave something on you when the others arrived. Even if you and I were the only ones who knew about it.”
Her nipples tightened and she squeezed her thighs together. Holy shit. The guys were downstairs, but she could be quick. “Get in here.”
She never saw him move so fast. He stripped off his t-shirt at the same time he toed the back of one shoe.
Stifling a giggle, she watched him struggle with his jeans and finally kick free before pulling aside the curtain. As soon as he was in, she went to her knees.
“Jesus. Nora. You don’t—” His voice choked when she took him into her mouth.
Reaching between his legs, she cupped his balls, rolling them in her slick palm. He tasted musky and warm, and she wondered if she could taste herself on him. Or both of them.
Heat flooded her center and she shifted to ease some of the ache.
“Nora.” He cupped her elbows, urging her to her feet.
“Let me.” Holding him in one hand, she turned her face to the side to lick the underside of his cock. She teased the head, licking gently at the slit. “I want this.”
With a quiet moan, he gave into her. His fingers were rough over her scalp as he moved to grip her head. He held her in place, rolling and flexing his hips.
She tightened her fist on him, letting the water ease the glide of her palm over him while sucking harder, hollowing out her cheeks.
Her clit pulsed in time with her pounding heart, but there was no way to ease it.
“Touch yourself.”
Nora’s eyes shot open and she looked up at him. Their gazes clashed and held, and he tipped his head back into the spray, groaning deep and long. “Fuck, when you look at me like that.”
This was more raw than what they’d shared earlier. It was stripped of cautiousness and learning. They were two beings who wanted to find release.
Nora released his balls and touched between her legs. She was still soapy from washing her hands and her fingers slid right inside her before she withdrew them to rub her clit in tight, hard circles.
“Keep looking at me.”
It was hard to meet Seok’s eyes, hard not to go inward as her body climbed higher and higher toward release, but she did.
“Nora.” The breathy tone of his voice warned her, and now she didn’t want to close her eyes. She wanted to see him come.
He stared at her, letting her see the way his jaw clenched, and his eyes opened wider as he came. Salty release filled her mouth, and she swallowed quickly, holding him a little looser while he continued to thrust.
She swirled her tongue around his tip as she drew away, and he shuddered.
Then he was on his knees next to her. He thrust one hand back in her hair and his other between her legs. He pushed her fingers aside, replacing them with his own and thrust them inside her while palming her mound.
She was gone. Every muscle in her body spasmed, clenching and releasing as she buried her face into his neck.
Against her lips, his pulse raced, and she kissed it. Seok. Her Seok.
Chapter 10
Matisse
Seok left them outside not long after Nora went in and he cursed the son of a bitch. She was in the shower, all wet and slick and beautiful. Merde. Not that he held it against him, because he’d do the exact same thing.
“Shit,” Apollo said, echoing his thought.
Cai and Ryan turned their gazes from the door back to the yard. Matisse watched them, studying their faces for signs of how they were feeling. This was his human detective work—Ryan frowning didn’t mean he was angry—not when paired with low brows and hands on his hips. That was his worried stance.
Same for Cai. He sat in the chair, jaw ticking like he ground his teeth together, golden eyes narrowed. That was worry as well.
“I’m worried.” Apollo just put it out there. That was one of many reasons he loved the guy. Generally, he didn’t keep things inside. He told everyone exactly how he was feeling. And when he didn’t? That was when Matisse started to worry.
Of the five of them, he was probably the least anxious about what was to come. At least when it came to Nora and this whole media thing.
He and the media weren’t on speaking terms at the moment, but he’d wooed them once and he could do it again. To him, answers were black and white, and once a path had been set, then all they needed to do was make a series of choices that would lead them to the result they wanted.
They were going to adore Nora. All of his people-watching led him to that foregone conclusion. The first sentence his girl uttered would get them hooked.
And the way she looked? From her gorgeous curls to her brown eyes, they were going to swoon.
Their job was going to be fighting the media off, not because they wanted to pull her down, but because they wanted more.
He glanced at the corners of the house where the current security cameras were located. He really needed to get up on that roof. There were still places he couldn’t see. The additional cameras he and Apollo got would fill in some of those gaps, so he could see everything all the time. Call him paranoid, but between Nora bringing attention to Dr. Murray and the media, he wanted eyes everywhere.
“I need a ladder.” He glanced at Apollo who rolled his eyes.
“I already told you, I’ll hold the ladder, but I’m not going up on the roof.”
He could live with that. Jumping out of his chair, he smacked Apollo with his hand. “Let’s get to it.”
Chapter 11
Seok
Seok hurried through getting dressed, leaving Nora in the shower after she told him, “I need a minute. I can’t even stand right now.”
Smiling to himself, he towel dried his hair and caught his reflection from the corner of his eye. Stupid grin, smile lines next to his eyes. He looked like a dope.
The guys were going to know what he did. They’d take one look at his wet hair and know, but that was how it was going to be. Any one of them would have taken advantage of the opportunity as he had. Wasn’t his fault he got up the stairs first.
“I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Nora made a sound of agreement, and he smiled even wider. Good. He’d made her lose the power of speech. Mentally, he patted himself on the back.
As he opened the door and stepped into the hall, he tripped and laughed. She should be patting herself on the back as well.
He made a quick stop in his room to change his damp t-shirt, but was downstairs in minutes. Uh-oh. Something was going on outside. The ladder was propped up next to the window, against the house, and two booted feet were barely in sight.
This wasn’t good.
Hurrying outside, he found Matisse at the top of the ladder as
it rattled on the driveway. As Seok ran to hold it, Apollo came bolting from the garage.
“Matisse, I said to wait a minute!”
“It’s fine.” But the ladder shook with each step and the ground was uneven.
“Another trip to the hospital?” he called up.
Matisse made a sound, dismissing them. Seok noticed the electric drill and bulging pockets of his friend’s jacket.
“More cameras,” Apollo said. “The cable part will be dicey, since I don’t know how to do it without being on the roof.”
“If I have to, I’ll get up there again. I bet I could find the harness I used.”
Above them, Matisse chuckled. “Do you remember when the pigeons got in the chimney? You thought the house was haunted.”
“Can you blame me?” Apollo shook his head. “Freaky old house, weird cooing?”
“Yeah,” Seok agreed, “because most people go right to ghosts when they hear a noise.”
Matisse began to use the drill and it drowned out any more ribbing Seok might have done. He watched his friend, aware that Matisse could get tunnel vision. He could step right off the ladder, forgetting how high up he was.
But his movement was cautious and almost graceful. It didn’t take him long to have the camera fastened in place.
Matisse leaned back, stuffing the drill through a belt Seok hadn’t realized he was wearing. That was his tool belt. Glancing down at them, Matisse smiled. “Think you could lift the ladder with me on it and move it about two feet to the left?”
“No!” Seok and Apollo said at the same time.
From the grin on his friend’s face, he wasn’t serious, but Seok could never be sure with this guy.
“We could probably do it,” Apollo said, quiet enough Matisse couldn’t hear, “drag it across the house.”
This side of the house needed to be painted, but that wasn’t why he shook his head. He wasn’t willing to risk his friend’s life because it was easier to lift a ladder than come down, move it, and go back up. Matisse was like his brother, closer than a brother, actually.
Chapter 12
Seok: Eighteen Years Old
Seok knew things were going to change, but he had no idea how much. All of his belongings were packed, ready to be shipped back to Korea. He wouldn’t be returning to Saint Martin’s, probably ever.
Because of his brother.
He and his father waited for the car that would take them to the airport. Father spent one night in a hotel, giving Seok enough time to pack, but that was it. Not a day more. There was no senior prank day. No senior skip day.
No awards.
No graduation.
Because of Baek.
His father’s phone chimed, and he glanced down at it. The thing might as well have been surgically attached to his palm. Once Father laid out the situation, every detail plain and without emotion, he forgot Seok existed. At least, it seemed that way to him.
He was left thinking about their conversation, dissecting it, turning it over.
Ruined.
In the simplest terms, it came down to this—Baek had used the company as his personal bank account. He’d borrowed money from foreign banks against the company, and when those banks called in loans, he sold stocks that weren’t his and took Seok’s money to keep their father from finding out what he’d done.
It was the trust, not the company, that noticed the embezzlement. If Baek had just left Seok’s money alone, he probably could have gotten away with it. But they alerted Seok’s father, who followed the trail back to Baek.
The shit hit the fan as Seok’s friends liked to say. It was all over the news in Seoul. A family company betrayed by the grandson of its founder. Investors bilked. Cash gone.
And for what?
Fancy watches. Clubs and thousand-dollar bottles of champagne. He blew through more money than Seok could comprehend. But that wasn’t the worst part—not to Father.
The worst part was the shame. Baek had taken advantage of people who trusted their family. He’d ruined the reputation their father and grandfather had spent their entire lives building. And for what? For selfishness. To have more. Take more. Use more.
“Did you know about this?” Father suddenly asked, thrusting his phone at Seok.
He stared at it. It was the same picture Baek had sent him. The one of the watch.
“This is his social media. He has been sharing images of the things he buys. Cars. Watches.” His father’s face was as gray as his hair. “We will never recover from this.”
“Has he explained himself?”
His father only grunted and went back to typing something. “I have had to hire lawyers, publicists, newspaper ads. I am spending money I don’t have, and your brother is buying watches.”
“All of that stuff can be sold.” It was the wrong thing to say.
Father turned to him, brows drawing low over his eyes. “That is not the point.” He took another breath, but their car arrived and his father gave him a look that said, not in public.
They got into the car while the driver loaded their suitcases into the back. Neither of them said a word. It struck Seok as ridiculous. There was so much to be said right now, so much to work out, and his father preferred to stay silent, keep everything inside, than trust him with his thoughts.
Loyalty. Responsibility.
Seok kept his mouth shut then, and he kept it shut for sixteen hours until they arrived, bleary-eyed, at their home in Seoul.
Now, he would get answers. He’d learn about the plan and the next steps his family would take.
Their bags were whisked away by staff as soon as they walked in through the door, but no one else came to greet them. Seok had thought, at the very least, his mother would make an appearance.
“She’s not feeling well,” Father said. “You will see her in the morning.”
Or he could go upstairs and find her for himself.
“Baek?” he asked. Surely, in the safety of their own home, he could get an answer about his brother.
“Here.” Father gritted his teeth like it hurt him to speak of it. “But you won’t see him. No one sees him right now. Not until I have decided what will happen.”
“So he’s not going to jail?”
His father whipped his head toward him and if possible, ground his teeth together even harder. “No.”
One word. No wonder Baek came to him for money and never told their father what he’d done. Holy shit. What was wrong with him? It wasn’t his father’s fault that his brother stole money. It was Baek’s decision. He made the choice to put their business at risk and drag their name through the mud.
“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
Father didn’t reply. He left Seok, striding toward his office without a backward glance. What was the point of bringing him back if he was going to be ignored? Or if his questions would go unanswered?
They’d flown first class, been met by their car service at the airport, and had their bags collected by their staff. The purpose of pulling Seok out of school wasn’t because they were suddenly poor. Obviously, there was money enough to pay for those things.
Too tired to make sense of it all, he climbed the stairs to his room, the smooth metal of the railing cold on his hand.
Cold. Just like this house. Just like his father who couldn’t be bothered to say goodnight or his mother who wouldn’t leave her bed to say hello after he’d been gone months.
Why the hell was he even here?
The next few days passed without any answers. Seok didn’t see Baek, though he’d gone by his room, and despite his father’s warning, knocked on the door.
It was utterly silent inside. No music. No movement. It was so quiet that Seok went downstairs and found his mother. “Are you certain Baek is here?”
“He had breakfast this morning,” she answered. “I’m sure.”
“You saw him?” Seok asked.
His mother lifted her tea and blew across the top. “No, but the kitchen sent him b
reakfast. That’s how I know.”
“How long is he going to stay in his room?”
Mother put down the fragile china teacup and lifted her gaze to his. “Baek has to prove to your father and grandfather that he can be trusted. He also has to take responsibility for his actions, not only to the business and their clients, but to the world. He’ll be expected to make amends.”
This was the first time Seok heard anything about that. “What does that mean?” It was a crime, even if it had been perpetrated against his family’s company. That couldn’t surprise Baek.
His mother’s eyes widened, only a little, only enough to give away that it was an idea she’d clearly thought of, and worried about. But she answered decisively enough. “No. Not prison. Your father won’t let that happen.”
Chapter 13
Nora
Matisse opened his laptop, setting it up on the new coffee table in the living room.
“Are we all watching together?” she asked, eyeing the three guys who had gathered. Ryan, Cai, Matisse, they’d all found a spot where they could see the computer. Seok was outside, finishing up some wiring that Matisse had started around the house and Apollo was holding the ladder.
Matisse typed the address of Lucy’s newspaper into the search bar. The Digger. It was kind of a gross name, and made her think of a boy in high school who had the same nickname, but not because he was an investigative journalist.
“Yeah,” Matisse said distractedly. He glanced over his shoulder out the window. “They should be done any minute.”
“How are you feeling?” Ryan took her hand and brought it to his lips. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Nervous. It feels like this could start something I’m not ready for.”
Matisse sat back, shifting until his knee was on the couch and he could see her where she and Ryan shared a loveseat. “It’s going to be okay.”
Finding Unity Page 5
