by K. Webster
With my purse hooked on one arm and my shopping bag on the other, I text Win on the way to the elevator.
Me: Let me cook you dinner.
Win: You had dinner with my mother.
Me: Didn’t say I was gonna eat it.
Win: Pass. Your cooking skills are lacking.
Me: I miss you.
He doesn’t respond.
I let out a ragged sigh of frustration, but don’t give up. I’ll send him a picture later that he’ll be unable to ignore. I’m smiling when I bump into someone.
“Ash Elliott?”
Snapping my head up, I meet the stare of a man with slicked-back hair, a fake tan, and obnoxiously white teeth. Same guy Daniel had to run off the other day outside of the building. And now he’s inside my building. “Huh?”
“I’m Clay Povich from the New York Daily—”
“No comment,” I bite out, mashing the elevator button.
The doors open and he follows me in, filling the space with his overpowering cologne. Ignoring him, I hit the button for the twelfth floor.
“You can’t ignore the press forever,” he says, stepping too close. “We have questions and it’s your obligation to answer them.”
“I don’t have to do shit,” I snarl. “Go away.”
“A source says you’re staying in this building on Mr. Constantine’s dime. Is it or isn’t it true you’re an escort?”
How could he possibly know I’m staying here and Win is paying for it?
My hand shakes as I dial Winston’s number. It rings and rings. Finally, I give up and end the call. The elevator doors open on my floor. I rush out, heading for my apartment. Clay is on my heels, hammering out questions. I try and dial Dad next but he doesn’t answer. The guy grows more and more agitated when I ignore him. When I stop suddenly in front of my door, he plows into me. Since we’re both caught off guard, he lands on me hard. My head hits the doorframe. Everything goes black and soundless for an indeterminable amount of time.
I eventually blink open my eyes, wincing against the throbbing in my skull. Clay is standing over me, snapping pictures with his phone. It takes a second for me to notice my dress has ridden up, revealing my pink panties. Jerking my dress down to cover myself, I screech at him.
“Get away from me!”
“I only want answers,” he says in a cool, confident tone, “and these pictures will disappear.”
“Fuck you!”
Clay is blocking my apartment door with his body, making it impossible for me to get inside if he decides to make this difficult.
“You’d probably do that, wouldn’t you? Rumor has it you’re also sleeping with the other Constantine, Perry. Can you go on record and state that you are, in fact, having a romantic relationship with Winston Constantine’s little brother?”
I dial Winston again, but he doesn’t answer. Tears have begun to burn in my eyes but I’m trying desperately to keep them from falling so this asshole doesn’t take pictures of that too. I shoot Win a quick text.
Me: Help me!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Winston
Nate continues to drone on, but I’m not listening. When Ash’s call came through, I figured I’d see her soon enough. The text, though, sends a wave of panic washing over me.
“I have to go,” I blurt out, hanging up on Nate. “Step on it, Daniel.”
Daniel must sense my urgency because he floors it, weaving in and out of traffic. I try to call Ash back, but she doesn’t answer.
Morelli?
If that motherfucker touches one hair on her head, I will burn this city to the ground, starting with every goddamn rat. I’m rage-filled by the time we reach her apartment building, further incensed by the rather large crowd of reporters exiting vans and beginning to crowd around the door.
We’ve been discreet.
No one, but a handful of people, knows she’s even here which means someone tipped them off.
I don’t have time to worry about that, though. I need to find out what the hell is going on with Ash. As soon as Daniel pulls up to the curb, I fly out of the vehicle, rippling with fury. As though they’re the Red Sea, they part to allow me through. Whatever pissed-off vibes I’m giving off must be enough warning.
Once inside, I take the elevator to the twelfth floor. I hear voices. Male and female. Without considering further consequence, I charge at the asshole looming over Ash. He lets out a startled cry when he hears me coming, whipping around in time to adopt a shocked expression only a second before my fist impacts his face. He crumples to the ground, moaning in pain. I’m no longer concerned about this pussy because Ash is pressed against the wall, her face buried in her knees, hands pressed to her ears. She bellows, scrambling away from me, frantic, teary eyes landing on me. If the guy wasn’t crying like a bitch, I’d happily knock his ass out right now for doing this to her.
“Hey, baby,” I croon. “It’s me. It’s just me. I’m here. That asshole is leaving.”
It takes her a second to understand that I’m really here and no one is going to hurt her. She flings herself into my arms, a sad fucking sob escaping her.
“He f-followed me and pushed me d-down. I hit m-my head.” She hiccups, her entire body trembling. “When I woke up, m-my dress…and he was t-taking p-pictures…”
“Man, it wasn’t like that,” the motherfucker says from behind me.
I release Ash and pounce on him, gripping his now bruised face in my punishing hold. “You touched my fucking girlfriend?”
The man whimpers. “I…n-no…I…”
“Give me your phone,” I growl. “Now.”
He hands it to me. I find several pictures of her unconscious with her pink panties showing and a few voice recordings. After I delete all evidence of his encounter with her, I pocket the phone. Mine now.
“Listen here, asshole,” I snarl, shoving him against the wall. “You’ll walk the fuck out of here. And when my attorney calls you, you better be ready to sing like a fucking canary about how you found out she was going to be here and who the hell tipped you off. Your career and reputation rely on it. Go before I change my mind and kick your ass all the way down twelve flights of stairs.”
I release him and glower after him as he runs for the elevator. As soon as he’s gone, I use my key to unlock Ash’s door. Then, I toss her phone that’s on the ground beside her into her purse, scoop it and her bag up, and set them just inside. She remains on the floor, visibly shaken. I pull her into my arms and carry her over the threshold like she’s my bride. I’m not sure what it is about this woman, but she brings out a feral, protective side of me I never knew existed.
No matter how much she pisses me off or I think I want to move on from her, I can’t even delude myself. She feels good in my arms, filling my nose with her sweet scent, and her very presence invading other parts of me that didn’t function before I met her. My heart beats wildly for her, and I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop it now that she’s shocked it to life like a goddamn defibrillator.
I set her down on her bed and then lock up the apartment. Shrimp is going crazy with excitement at seeing me, but I’m too focused on Ash to give him my attention yet.
Kneeling down in front of Ash, I place my palms on her hips and try to read her expression. “Are you okay?”
“I missed you.”
Of course this damn girl would care more about our relationship than the fact some asshole was terrorizing her in the hallway.
“I missed you too,” I admit. “I can give you flowery words later. I’m more concerned about your head and if that motherfucker touched you.”
“You came. I called and you came.”
“How hard did you hit your head?”
“Hard enough there’re two of you and I’m not complaining. It’s almost like having a threesome—”
I cut her off with a brutal kiss to her pouty lips. Tasting her again sends floods of relief washing through me. It feels good to have her in my grasp once more. Hooking an arm
around her back, I pull her up the bed as I climb on. She lets out a breathy sigh when I settle my body over hers. My lips find hers again, taking my time kissing her, relearning her tongue and lips as though I didn’t just kiss her three days ago.
I’m hard as fuck but I could be content kissing her all night.
Does that make me a pussy?
Probably. Right now, I don’t care. I might regret it later, but not now. She doesn’t taste like regret—she tastes like happiness and I can’t devour her fast enough, starved to fill up on such a blissful emotion I’ve been denied for far too long.
I break from our kiss to look at her. Seeing her at the office but not touching her has been torture of my own doing. I’ve been busy putting out fires and trying to make sense of what it is about Ash that drives me so insane. I’m no closer to figuring it out. Instead, I only managed to make myself miss her.
“Did you have fun shopping with my mother?”
While she was off with my mother, I was knee-deep in all the shit Ulrich has been uncovering for me. My day has been productive to say the least.
A smile tugs at her swollen pink lips. “Fun is a stretch. I survived.”
“Seems you always do where she’s concerned.”
“I didn’t end up in the Hudson, so there’s that.” Her hazel eyes twinkle. “I bought you a present.”
“You bought your non-boyfriend a present.”
“My boyfriend in denial,” she corrects.
“I thought you were mad at me for walking out on our deal.” I arch a brow at her. “Did you forget?”
“I’m always mad at you, Win. What else is new? Doesn’t mean I don’t lov—”
I cover her mouth with my hand, letting the rest of that sentence get muffled. “You hit your head too hard, Cinderelliott. It’s making you more desperate than usual.”
Pulling my hand away, I kiss her pretty mouth again. This time, the kiss turns dirty quickly and I find myself nipping a trail over her cheek and jaw to get to her throat. Her breasts heave with each staggering breath she takes.
“This cleavage was cruel,” I complain, pulling down her dress so I can marvel at her tits that have been damn near on display all day. “I had to leave so I didn’t fuck you over Deborah’s desk.”
“To go to lunch with Layla.”
I bite on her juicy tit that’s about to fall out of her bra. “Mmhmm.”
“It just made you miss me more, though, right?”
Ignoring her, I pull the cups of her bra down to free her gorgeous tits. I suck one of her nipples into my mouth, loving the mewl that escapes her. I take turns sucking on each nipple until they’re both rock-hard peaks. Once I’m satisfied with how red and wet they are, I suck on the skin of her breasts, my sole purpose marking them with purple bruises for her to remember me by later.
“Make love to me,” she murmurs, her eyes heavy-lidded and mouth parted. “Please.”
“And the tradeoff?” I ask as I sit up to yank off my suit jacket.
“You already saved me. It’s my turn to thank you.”
I don’t argue with that logic, ripping off my clothes in record speed. Once I’ve snatched away her dress and undergarments, I kiss my way down to her pussy. Her aroused scent makes my mouth water to taste her. It seems like eons since I’ve had my tongue on her here when in actuality, it’s only been a few days.
“Spread your legs and let me see how wet you are,” I command. “Playing the damsel in distress turns you on.”
My filthy girl parts her thighs, revealing all her slick sweetness to me. I grin as I dive in, eager to have her on my lips and tongue.
“Win,” she cries out as my tongue slides up her slit. “Oh, God!”
I suck on one of her pussy lips before wiggling my tongue between them seeking out her tight bud of pleasure. She jolts at the touch, a keening sound rasping from her.
Fuck, she tastes so damn good.
Like sweet cherry Starburst and mine.
Definitely tastes like mine.
I nip at her clit which throws her over the edge, screaming my name like she’s mad at me. But the way her body vibrates, I’d say she’s a fan of my efforts. Before she’s even done coming down from her high, I’m teasing my dick along her slippery cunt and pushing into her with a hard, claiming thrust.
Capturing her throat with a gentle grip, I squeeze just enough to garner her attention. Her hazel eyes lock on mine as I fuck her into oblivion. As much as we’ve had sex, I quite like staring at her while I drive my dick into her needy body. It’s all-consuming—a shock of fire blazing through my entire system, burning away everything but her.
My lips find hers again, watering to taste her sexy mouth. She moans out her praises as I ravish her tongue and lips. The wet, juicy sounds as I thrust in and out of her are a testament to how good I make her feel. I love having this power over her.
Her fingernails rake through my hair, messing it up. A heel presses into my ass, and I wonder if I’ll be bruised from it. I grind my hips against her, trying to fuck my way as deep inside her as I can possibly get. I want to fill her with so much goddamn come it leaks out of her for days.
That’s a good way to get her pregnant.
Again with those dangerous thoughts.
She does this to me. It’s easy to forget who I am when I’m balls-deep inside this girl and pretending to be her hero. I can imagine a world where she carries my children and holds my heart. With those stupid thoughts dancing in my mind, I come with a growl. Her pussy clenches in time with each throb of my release.
I don’t immediately pull out of her. I’m drunk on her scent and taste and touch, burying my face against the side of her head so I can inhale her. My dick has softened and I can feel my come running out of her. Regretfully, I slide out of her to lie next to her, but that’s only because I want to push the come back into her tight body. She wears an amused grin that I ignore.
“Win…”
“Heart eyes,” I complain. “It’s not a cute look.”
“You love it.” Her triumphant grin only goes wider when I don’t argue.
Tomorrow I can go back to being Winston fucking Constantine. Tonight, I like just being hers. This man. Simple and available and protective. And, with my fingers, wet with my come, now teasing at her asshole because we aren’t us unless we’re getting a little nasty.
I’m already fantasizing about fucking her ass but my phone starts ringing from my pile of clothes on the floor. Since I’m waiting to find out when my meeting is tonight, I’ll need to answer it. I pull my fingers away from her pussy and put them to her lips. With her hot eyes burning into mine, she sucks off the come like the dirty girl she is.
Goddamn, I will never get tired of this.
Chump.
I pull away from her, focused on finding out who’s calling me. The unknown number has me frowning, but I answer it anyway.
“Constantine.”
“Fucking the whore in the whore apartment. That’s what you two call it, right? How cute,” the voice snarls on the other line. “You can’t keep an eye on her forever. Tonight was proof.”
My blood runs cold. “Don’t call me again, you little shit.”
Scout Mannford. I should have known it wouldn’t be the last I’d hear of the fucklets.
“What you did…” He sucks in a sharp, furious breath. “I’ll make you pay, motherfucker. I’ll hurt you like you hurt me and my brothers.” His laughter is cruel. “I’ll start with my bitch of a stepsister. Tell her next time I won’t hesitate to fuck her. Maybe we’ll have a sex scandal of our own.”
“Touch her and it’ll be the last thing you do,” I warn, malevolence tinting my every word.
“Oh, I’ll touch her. You can’t protect her forever. Maybe I’ll sneak into your condo next time you’re running away for business. I’ll slit her pretty little throat after I fuck her raw. Have fun explaining why there’s a dead prostitute in your bed.”
That image of Scout hurting Ash and then carving her u
p like a pumpkin will give me fucking nightmares. Turning the hatred back on him, I hiss, “Can you do all that from a wheelchair?” A deadly pause. “Didn’t think so. Bye, brat.”
The line goes dead.
“Who was it?” Ash demands, hair messy and eyes wild with worry.
She knows. Of course she knows. And based on the horrified expression on her face, she’s more terrified of her stepbrothers than the lawless Morellis.
“Pack your shit and your bird. You’re going home.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ash
Home?
I’m shaking my head as panic threatens to consume me. Dad won’t speak to me and Manda hates me. The triplets. A shudder ripples through me. I can’t go home. Not ever again.
“I can’t,” I croak out. “Please, Win, don’t make me go back to them.”
He’s in the middle of zipping up his pants when my words finally register in his brain. Without a shirt on and the fiery expression on his face, he looks like some vengeful angel—beautiful and golden and perfect.
“My home, Cinderelliott. I’ll be damned if that sick sonofabitch or his two clones comes within fifty feet of you.”
Home. His home.
I crawl across the bed, his come still running from my body, and reach for him. He steps toward me, letting me wrap my arms around his neck.
“That was Scout? What did he want?”
His body is tense and thrumming with pent-up violence. “Something he will never have.”
The unspoken word is you. Terror at the thought of Scout getting me alone again is chased away by Win’s protectiveness that’s clouding around me. He wants to take me home. Me and our bird.
“Let me shower and then we can go.”
I race through my shower trying to gain control over the swelling panic. I’d stupidly thought the triplets were no longer a threat. They’re vindictive and evil. Now that everything has been stripped from them, they’ll do everything in their power to pay Winston back for what he did. And that means me. Will I ever be free of those monsters?
