And I need to give him what he wants right now too. He wants relief, I know.
I can see it in the tight lines of his body as he drives us back to the glass house. I can see that I’ve tortured him enough. By pushing him for a meeting with Pete, by baking cupcakes and cookies for someone else.
He was fine while he was working at the garage but I know he’s back to feeling antsy.
While I’d never ever regret pushing and well, I’m going to push him more, I can at least calm him down. I can at least make things better for him.
So as soon as we get back home, I whisper, “Help me down on my knees.” When he only stares at me with a frown, I add, “Please, Roman.”
And he does that.
He helps my heavy body so I can drop down on my knees and get to work.
But first he takes off his hoodie and spreads it on the floor so I can rest my knees on something soft instead of hardwood.
My hands go for his jeans and I open them with eager, expert hands.
He’s not the only one who knows how to play with my body. I know how to play with his as well. He’s taught me and I want to play with him now.
I want to bring out his dick and suck on it.
I already know it’s big, his cock. But when I unzip him and bring it out, I feel like I’m seeing it for the first time.
It’s angry right now.
All thick and hard and huge, sticking out of his body.
Mean looking, villainous.
Because I tortured him. Because I drove him crazy.
I look up at him, his face that looks as mean as his arousal. “Sorry I made cupcakes for someone else.”
His jaw clenches and he grips his dick in his large hand. “So are you going to apologize to me?”
I nod, rubbing my palms up and down his jean-covered thighs. “Yes.”
He tugs on his rod, his face becoming meaner. “What else though? What else are you going to apologize for?”
Eyeing his thick rod and its slippery head, I whisper, “For putting on lipstick for someone else.”
“Damn right. And for laughing with someone else. For giving someone else your sweet fairy smile. For making all those people fucking look at you back at the shop.”
My breaths are harsh. “I didn’t… I didn’t know someone was looking at me.”
His free hand goes for my braid then and he uses it to tug my head back and bend down over me. “Because you never know, do you? Because you live in your fucking la-la land, your rosy tits jiggling in your rosy dresses when you walk. Your sweet pregnant belly sticking out, all ripe and juicy.”
I dig my nails in his thighs. “Roman —”
His eyes are all mean too, predatory. “You know, I thought you’re pregnant now. My Fae is pregnant, her belly’s swollen and right there for all the world to see. For all the men to keep away from. But no, that’s not the case, is it?” His teeth clench, his fingers in my hair tightening. “They still look at you. They still want to sniff around your skirt. They want to know what’s under it. They want your creamy tits and your big belly. They want you for themselves, my pregnant ballerina, and fuck yeah, it drives me fucking crazy. It drives me to kill. You drive me to kill. Are you going to apologize for that, Fae? For making me want to kill every man who looks at you.”
I arch my neck up even more. “Yes. I will. For everything.”
His chest is moving up and down with his noisy, growling breaths. “Then you better take off your dress. You better show me that pregnant belly where my baby sleeps. While you suck on the thing that got you pregnant.”
And so I take off my dress for him and cradle the precious belly he gave me, making his eyes flash with primitive possessiveness, making him growl deep in his chest.
Then I take him in my mouth.
I suck on his dick.
That never ever fits in my mouth.
His monster, villainous, tasty dick, dick that got me pregnant, that never fits in my good girl, fairy mouth.
I go for it anyway and he grunts and curses.
Even his knees tremble, my big, bad villain.
And that’s such a happy thought, such a satisfying thought that soon I’m taking him all in.
I’m taking him in my throat.
I wonder if my slender throat swells up with his huge dick. If he can see it. If he can see that his pretty and mean cock is inside of me and stretching my throat.
I hope he can.
I really do.
I hope he can feel how much I love him.
And when he comes in my mouth and I swallow what he gives me, I hope he can feel that I’m going to do anything to give him the dream that he doesn’t even know he has.
I know something is off.
Something has to be for my father to call me into his study.
He hasn’t called me in here in months.
Usually we see each other at the office and that’s all we can take of each other. Besides, I’ve been right under his nose every day so I thought I was free.
Of this suffocating office at least.
But apparently not, because he’s called me in on Sunday morning. It’s fine though.
Fae’s at the school library; she has finals and she’s planning on spending the day studying. I’m supposed to go pick her up in a few hours. If her admission to Juilliard wasn’t conditional, based on her graduating high school, I wouldn’t even let her go.
She gets tired easily these days and I wasn’t very gentle with her yesterday after we came back from Pete’s.
What can I say, I’m a jealous motherfucker.
I’m jealous. I’m possessive. I’m afraid.
I’m fucking afraid, all right.
I’m afraid that time’s running out. That Halo will be here soon. That Fae will leave for Juilliard.
Which is ridiculous.
I’ve wanted her to get out of St. Mary’s. I’ve wanted her to go to Juilliard and away from my father. And as much as it fucking scares me that I’ll actually be a father in a few weeks, I want Halo.
I want the life I accidentally made with Fae.
Especially on the night she wanted to end things.
And now it’s all happening and I don’t know what the fuck my problem is.
But anyway, back to my father and the reason he’s called me into his office. Which he states as soon as I enter the room.
“This belongs to you, I take it.”
And as soon as I hear those words, I forget to breathe.
I forget to move.
I forget that I ever knew the meaning of being afraid.
I didn’t know. I never knew.
Not until this moment.
Not until I see what he has in his hands.
A square photo. A black and white blurry picture from the last doctor’s appointment.
Of Halo.
I snap my eyes up to my father’s face and there’s a slight triumphant smirk on his mouth. “It looks like you’ve been keeping a secret from me.”
With a conscious effort, I breathe deep.
I breathe to calm down the terror inside my body, the chill.
It’s like my bones are freezing over.
But still, I unhinge my jaw and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He grazes the edge of the photo with his finger. “I think you know. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Although, I’m a little hurt.”
The sight of my father’s dirty, villainous hands touching something so pure is making me want to leap across the space and snatch it from him.
It’s making me want to rip his fingers off his body.
But I stay put. I try to sound nonchalant. “Didn’t know you were capable of being hurt.”
“Well, I am. I’m a sensitive man. And this is such big news. The biggest.” His smile appears wolfish, his gray eyes flashing with cruelty as he throws the photo away and threads his fingers. “My ne
w secretary, Linda — you’ve met her — she found it on the floor by your desk and well, she let it slip in one of her, let’s say, weak moments.”
Even though he’s not touching Halo anymore and that brings a bit of relief, I still fist my hands.
I still dig my nails into my flesh.
That he found out. That my plan, my promise, failed.
“You mean, when you were fucking her,” I say.
He shrugs, sitting in his throne-like chair. “I was trying to be tactful.”
“Don’t start on my account.”
He smiles again, watching me. “You’re going to be a father, huh? That’s a big job. Being a father.”
“Yeah, you’d know a lot about it, wouldn’t you?”
“Come on.” He laughs, making my skin crawl. “Don’t be that way, son. I should be the one who’s mad. You hid it from me. You hid that I’m going to be a grandpa. And you did a good job of it, I must say. I never had a clue. Not one single clue. I feel foolish, to be frank.”
“You should. You’re not exactly bright.”
Anger flashes through his eyes but he chooses to let my dig go.
He has something bigger up his sleeve, I know. I can feel it.
He wants revenge.
He wants to put me in my place for hiding things from him, for playing him. Like he did two years ago when he had Fae arrested just because he wanted to get to me.
To punish me for years of taunting him with soccer.
He settles back in his chair then. “I can’t help but think why. Why would you hide something so big from your own father? You don’t think I mean your future child any harm, do you?”
“You —”
“You don’t think I mean her harm,” he says, tilting his head to the side to look at the photo again, reading off it, “Calliope Thorne.”
“Don’t,” I snap with clenched teeth, “say her name.”
He laughs again. “She must be one special girl, this Calliope.” I clench my jaw again when he says it. “Well, she’s already proven herself to be so useful. A fucking goldmine, I have to say, and I haven’t even met her yet. She —”
“Stop talking about her,” I snap again, and this time, I move.
I stride over to his desk with violence running in my veins, and when I reach it, I put my hands on the wood, bend over and growl, “What the fuck do you want?”
His wolfish smile grows.
He knows he’s got me.
He knows I’m going to do whatever the fuck he wants me to do.
“Nothing really. Just wanted to see it with my own eyes.”
“See what?”
He chuckles. “If you’re still whipped. What is it about her though, I wonder? Is it because she’s a dancer?”
“What?”
He smiles, his eyes flashing. “What, you thought I wouldn’t find out everything, every fucking thing, about the mother of my grandchild?” He chuckles again. “She’s a ballerina, huh? A good one from what I’ve heard. And she’s got her little heart set on Juilliard. My, my. Apparently, it’s one of the best schools and apparently, they’re pretty fucking lucky to have her. At least, that’s what he said when I talked to him, the dean. Turns out, I know him. I’ve asked him to take good care of her. She’s family now, isn’t she? You saw to that. And unlike you, the girl’s got ambition. She wants to dance for the New York City Ballet Company. I think I like her more than I ever liked you.”
My fingers vibrate on the desk, with fear, with dread, as he takes a pause to let his words sink in.
As he makes all my nightmares come true.
“But then, are you sure you want to give her that much freedom? Maybe she’s better off, staying home, taking care of your sweet little kid, who I very much hope takes after its mommy rather than its useless fucking daddy.”
“You fucking –"
Finally, his façade breaks and my father becomes the villain he is. “Watch your fucking tone with me, boy. You don’t want to piss me off. You don’t want to get me upset. Not right now, you fucking piece of shit.” His jaw clenches. “You think you can keep things from me, huh? You think you’re so clever keeping things from your old man, taunting him, rebelling against him. I tolerated that back when you were growing up. With your goddamn soccer and your teenage rebellion and little revenge plans. I let it go but those days are over. Those fucking days are over. You know what you are now? You’re my bitch. You do what I tell you to do. I ask you to jump, you ask how high. I ask you to get down on your knees in front of me, you better be prepared to not only get down on your knees but to lick my fucking boots. And if you don’t, I’ll take your happy little family and crush them under those same fucking boots, you understand, you shithead. Don’t ever keep anything from me or try to pull one on me or I’d be happy to remind you, Roman. I’d be happy to remind you who the boss is.”
Bile surges up my throat.
He’s the only one who calls me that. Roman. And I’ve fucking hated that name for as long as I can remember.
Until her.
Until she chose to call me that, cleansing it with her voice.
Until she baptized that name with her candy lips and gave it a new life.
“How did you know?”
The question is out before I can stop it and now it hangs in the air like a time bomb. The one that I feel lives in my chest these days.
“How did I know what?”
You’d give up your fucking soul for that girl. Your father knew that.
I look at the man I’ve hated all my life, the one who brought me into this world, whose face looks like mine and who’s taught me everything I know, every cruel, mean, bad thing I know.
“How did you know I’d do it? I’d do everything. For her.”
My father stares back at me, his gray eyes hard. “I didn’t. I took a shot. I didn’t even think it was going to work. Because for all your tantrums, you’re exactly like me. You never cared for anything, much less a girl. But then she goes and steals your car, the car that you love so much, and you do nothing. Not a single thing. Made me curious, but again, I wasn’t sure it was gonna pan out. But it did. When you barged into my office that night, begging me to let her go. That’s when I knew. That’s when I knew that my son is a pussy. He’s a pathetic, weak, lovesick pussy. But I underestimated her charms, didn’t I? Because apparently, you’re still a pathetic, weak, lovesick pussy. Now get the fuck out of my office.”
Love.
There’s that word again.
The time bomb that I think lives in my chest starts ticking again. It starts ticking and ticking but then my father breaks into my panicked thoughts.
“Actually, take this with you.”
He opens the desk drawer and retrieves a file.
He throws it on the desk and it skates over to me; I don’t look at it though. I’m staring at him, waiting for him to speak.
He tips his chin to the file. “There’s a piece of land I’ve got my eye on for a long time. I’ve let it be for some reason. I guess I was saving it for the right opportunity and now I want you to get it for me.”
I look at the file then.
I reach out and open it and the terror that I’ve been feeling turns into anger.
It turns into fury. Violence and outrage.
So much of it.
But at the heel of it comes despair. Frustration, helplessness. This is exactly how I felt on the day of the championship game. When I broke her heart.
When I had to break her heart because my father left me no choice with his demands. With his threats.
Because it was a war and I had no choice but to fight it and win.
That’s exactly how I feel when I see the name of Pete’s garage on the top of the page.
“You want me to get it for you,” I say in a low voice.
“Yes. Now the man who owns this has been hesitant. We’ve given him plenty of opportunities to come around but people can b
e stupid, sentimental. I’m sure you could relate.” He chuckles. “So now you’re going to do your thing and take it from him.”
My heart is beating in my ears, in my teeth.
I exhale a long breath, a long shaky, terror filled, helpless breath. Because he wants me to do what I always do, destroy people.
This time however, the person he’s chosen for me to destroy is Pete.
My father wants me to take something from Pete that he’s built with his own hands, that is his entire life’s work.
“Is there a problem?” he asks.
“No.”
“Good boy. Get the fuck out.”
I pick up the file from the desk because I’m going to do it.
I’m going to destroy Pete and serve him on a platter to my dad. Because I’ll do anything for her.
I’m going to talk to his dad.
I decided that right after we got back from Pete’s.
Reed loves Pete’s garage. He loves cars. He loves working there and he should.
He should be able to do that.
I know he doesn’t want me to interfere. He doesn’t want me to go anywhere near his dad and well, rightfully so. The man must hate me for what I did to his son’s car. But it was two years ago and I’m not going to ask his dad to forget it. I’m only going to ask Mr. Jackson to let his son go.
To punish me instead.
I’m not stupid though. I know his dad is not a good man. I mean, look at what he forced Reed to do in exchange for my freedom. Plus Tempest has told me often enough about how crappy their dad is.
But I have to talk to him. I have to convince him somehow.
I can’t stand by and watch Reed work in a place that he hates.
I’ve decided that this is going to be my gift to him: his dream. I can’t tell him I love him because I’ve already made him that stupid promise but I can give him this.
Like he gave me my dream.
And yeah, I’m miserable about it because it will take me away from him, but still.
So I make a plan with my girls at the school library; it’s Sunday and I’m studying for finals. Or at least, I should be, but I’m planning and I’m nervous.
And the girls are not helping.
They don’t want me to talk to his dad because of what he did to me.
A Gorgeous Villain Page 48
