by Brynn Paulin
“That sucks.”
“Tell me about it.” I took a sip of my drink but found the glass empty. Frowning, I set the glass on one of the tables scattered around the balcony. “So…you don’t want a job?”
“That’s not it at all. You don’t want a wife?”
“That’s not it at all,” I echoed again. Strange how we had separate problems, but they still seemed to mirror each other. “So if it’s not about getting a job, what is it?”
She was silent so long I didn’t think she’d answer. I admired her profile as she stared out over the city. The faint moonlight seemed to make her fair skin glow, but unfortunately, not enough that I could truly make out her features.
“I shouldn’t say,” she finally said.
“Who am I going to tell?” I coaxed. “I don’t even know who you are.” But I wanted to. I wanted to know everything about her.
“I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m out of this town as soon as I can manage it. The thing is, my family are all jerks. They don’t listen to a damn thing I say. You better get a job. You won’t be lazing around here. Like I’ve slacked off a day in my life. I’ve worked my ass off since the day I turned sixteen—not that they care. Yeah, I’m soooo lazy. I had a job for most of high school, and I still earned academic distinction and a four-year, full-ride scholarship for this fall. Again, not that they care—or even know because they don’t listen.”
Through the darkness, I saw her rub her hands over her face then swipe them to the sides as if she were crying. Fuck. I couldn’t stand the thought of that. Stepping forward, I shocked myself and pulled her into my arms. My hand cradled the back of her head that just barely reached the top of my shoulder. She might be tall, but so was I. Her hair was like silk against my palm, and her light scent of roses enveloped me, setting my soul alight.
“Shh, don’t cry,” I murmured.
She sniffled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I hate crying. I…” She shook her head. “I’m just venting. They frustrate me so much.”
We stood there in silence—her shaking slightly as she got hold of herself; me wondering how I’d let her go. Something told me I’d accidently found who I’d been looking for, after all. God, please let her be legal. She said she was heading off to college, so I guessed she was eighteen. That still made me a decade older than her.
“I’ll probably get a lecture on the way home,” she muttered.
“Why?”
“Oh, you know… Hiding out during this thing. Not being social. Not finding a job that I don’t need.”
I chuckled. “Tell you what.” I pulled a card out of the pocket of my suit coat. “Come to my office tomorrow morning, and we can chat about that job you don’t want. You don’t have to work for me, but it’ll take the pressure off you tonight.” And if I could swing it—and I probably could because I was pretty persuasive—I’d get her to stick around so I could get to know her.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really.” I kissed the top of her head, though I really shouldn’t. “See you in the morning, Princess. Come by at nine, and we’ll have coffee and a midmorning snack.”
Chapter Three
~ Cricket ~
I stared after him as he disappeared, and I immediately missed his warmth and the spicy male cologne from when he’d enveloped me in his embrace. I’d never felt so tiny or feminine in my life, but he had seemed…perfect against me. Stronger, wider, taller…a wall of masculine strength.
And he’d kissed me.
Well, on the top of my head, anyway.
It probably meant nothing.
I glanced down at the white card he’d handed me, but I couldn’t read it in the moonlight.
“Cricket, what the hell are you doing out here?”
I sighed. “Dad…”
“I told you to meet with people.”
I stuck the card in my pocket of my gown. It was one of the few plusses for the dress—it had pockets. Otherwise, I hated the thing. It was too short, having been tailored to Ella, and the top was a little too snug even though it had been refitted to me after she’d decided she hated it. My dark hair hung in long curls to my waist and partially hid how the fabric clung to my generous curves. A sweep of long bangs also hid the scars on the side of my face. Still, I felt like the not-so-jolly, but all-too-clumsy giant. What I wouldn’t give to be a tiny little thing instead of so tall, curvy and solid.
“I did,” I defended myself. “I have an appointment tomorrow morning.”
“Good.” He turned to leave. He wasn’t even going to ask who my appointment was with? Most parents would want to know. Not mine apparently, but for once, I was thankful for his disinterest since I didn’t know the name of my prince.
I almost snorted. Right… A Prince Charming rescuing me. Totally what I didn’t need.
“Can I leave now?” I asked before my dad slipped inside. I knew he’d want to be here a few more hours. Some might see this as a social function; he saw it as work. “I can call an Uber from downstairs.”
He lifted a hand in dismissal, not even looking back. “Sure, sure.”
Discouraged, once again, I waited until he was gone before I followed him through the doors. I mean what had I been expecting? Something different from usual. That would be naïve of me.
Intent on escaping, I traveled the edge of the room, staying out of traffic and avoiding people. I’d never felt comfortable in social situations and even less so at these glam events. I always felt as if people were staring at me.
Thank God, I could leave now. I was almost to the door when I saw him. Prince Charming. Tall, dark and fucking gorgeous. My stepsister clung to his arm, and he appeared as if he were looking for any possible getaway—even jumping out the window.
My lips pressed together, suppressing a laugh at his utter need to get out of her clutches. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel bad for him. I did. It was just that I had never—ever!—seen such a reaction to Ella. It delighted me. Was I a bad person for that? Maybe, but this was the girl who’d tormented me for the last ten years.
Then suddenly, he saw me. One of his arched eyebrows quirked up at my expression, and I saw interest take over his chiseled features. His dark eyes narrowed slightly as he watched me, his full lips curving to a small smile.
No! I needed to leave before Ella spied his reaction. Ducking my head and spinning away, I practically sprinted toward the door to the corridor, walking as fast as possible without attracting any more attention.
In the hallway, I heaved a deep breath and jabbed at the elevator button, willing my heartbeat to slow back to normal. My whole body felt flushed and on edge. Could this be worse? The man in Ella’s sights was interested in…me? He couldn’t be. That had to be my imagination.
Lost in my thoughts, I arrived to the ground floor before I knew it. The lobby was the height of glamor, with chandeliers and décor that could herald from the Roaring Twenties or maybe the Forties. Very old Hollywood. It was quiet and if I wasn’t so intent on escape, I’d sit and just absorb it. But I needed to leave.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t called for an Uber yet. Taking a moment, now that I was free from the party on the twentieth floor, I settled onto one of the round settees and pulled out my cell phone.
One bar. For all the swankiness here, the tower signal blew and they didn’t have guest Wi-Fi. My app wouldn’t pull up. Great. I’d need to go out to the sidewalk, maybe walk partway down the block, just to get adequate signal. I didn’t relish doing that at night. I could be kidnapped—or worse—for days before my family even noticed I was missing.
Vowing to stay as much in the streetlights as possible, I stood, squared my shoulders then headed for the revolving doors.
“Where are you going, beautiful princess?”
I jumped, not expecting a voice in the deserted lobby, certainly not his voice. And did he just call me…beautiful? His eyesight was obviously impaired. I’d been told for years just how homely I was. Of course, he hadn’t gotten a good look
at my face yet.
I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, he’d escaped Ella and was hot after me. Seeing him—and hearing him speak—confirmed the man on the balcony was indeed the man my stepsister had latched onto a few minutes ago.
He caught up with me, his fingers grazing over my bare bicep and lifting goosebumps. I hated this dress because it showed the scar running up my arm, but I didn’t have another to choose from, and he didn’t even seem to notice.
“Seriously, Princess, where are you going? Why are you running?”
“I’m going home.”
“You have a hot date there?” he growled, the joke coming off like jealousy even though I knew it couldn’t be. “You were practically sprinting.”
I huffed. “If Ella sees you have even the vaguest of interest in me, she’ll be…unbearable.”
“Trust me. I have more than a vague interest in you.” This time, his growl was more sensual. At least, it seemed like it to me, but what did I know? I had zero experience.
I swallowed hard, unsure what to say.
“So…hot date?” he inquired again.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No. I mean, my best friend is a boy, but I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“A boy who’s a friend,” he mocked. “Sure. He wants you.”
I stepped away, annoyed. Time to get that car ordered or find a cab. “No, he doesn’t.”
He kept in step with me. “No friends with benefits?”
I glared at him. “Oh my God, no! Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Trust me, it’s definitely my business.”
I looked at him as if he were insane. Maybe, he was.
“Okay…” I said, drawing out the word. “Thanks for this trip to crazy town. I’m going to head home now.”
He caught my hand and pulled me to him. I fell into his chest, my cheek landing right between his muscular, drool-worthy pecs. Holy moly! I knew I should move, but I didn’t. I just stayed there, listening to his heart beating hard beneath my ear. And he smelled…so good!
“I’m not crazy,” he grated. “And you, Princess. You’re mine, so there had better not be any dates, friends with benefits, or random fucks—unless they’re with me. Let’s go.”
“What?” I yelped, finally straightening. “No. I’m not just going off with you and hopping into your bed.”
“A bed’s really not necessary. I would gladly claim you anywhere. But no. That’s not the plan right now. Right now, we’re heading somewhere to talk, and you’re going to tell me everything about yourself.”
Chapter Four
~ Brix ~
Holy fuck, she was magnificent. I’d been watching the balcony doors when Ella Conway had latched onto me again. I saw Markawicz emerge, then minutes later…the most lovely creature I’d ever seen. She was tall, with curves that made my mouth water. I wanted to grab hold of them and bury myself deep—and I had never, ever had such an immediate and visceral reaction to a woman. Her dark hair was a long, gently curling fall to her tiny waist. I knew how silky it was, and it made me think of tangling my hands in it while I—
While I got my head out of the gutter.
Though the gutter wasn’t where I wanted her. I wanted her in bed, beneath me. Every single night.
Holy fuck, what was happening with me?
She was even more breathtaking up close. Warm and soft and sweet smelling. Would her pussy taste as sweet as her scent? Fuck, I needed to get a grip—and not on her. Trying to force myself under control, I studied her delicate features and her emerald green eyes, so vibrant I wondered if she wore colored contacts. That didn’t help. Literally, I’d never seen a woman so beautiful.
A blush colored her cheeks as I stared, and it was then I noticed the faint lines on the right side of her face—not that they marred her perfection. They just made her all the more fragile and precious in my sight.
I swallowed hard, knowing if she looked down, she’d definitely see my cock trying to come out and say hi to her. He throbbed so hard, I could barely think.
“You should…probably tell me your name. I’m not opposed to calling you Princess for the rest of our lives, but you might find it tiresome,” I said now that I’d caught up with her.
She stepped away from me. My chest tightened in protest. I would have been thrilled to have her cuddled into my chest all night.
“Cricket Markawicz,” she told me.
“Ah, so the not-so-lovely Ella is your stepsister.”
“She’s beautiful. What are you talking about?”
I made an annoyed sound in my throat. “On the surface maybe. Beyond that, she’s a vapid, stage-five clinger.”
“She’s actually quite talented,” Cricket defended. I had no idea why she’d champion Ella. I guessed there was no love lost between them.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “You two are close?”
She snorted. “Oh my God, no. She’s a complete bit—” She shook her head, changing her direction after almost saying bitch. “I mean…no, we’re not close. And yes, she’s my stepsister.”
I linked my fingers through hers and tugged her toward the revolving doors. I’d already summoned my limo on my way down, hoping we could make a swift getaway once I caught up with my charming future fiancée—yeah, that revelation startled me, too. But it worked out with my grandfather’s wishes for my future. Since he was the only one who’d ever given a damn about me, I was more than thrilled to give him what he wanted.
Worked out for me, too, because fuck… I had never wanted a woman more.
Besides that, it would get all the avaricious females off my back while I got what I really wanted. This exquisite beauty before me.
She tried to pull her hand away once we got to the sidewalk. “I was about to call an Uber.”
“Well, look, my Uber is already here.”
She eyed the shiny, black limo with dark windows. “Not to state the obvious, but that’s not an Uber.”
“It’s not. Crap. Well, I suppose we’ll have to make due with this cut-rate substitute. That’s what I get for using one of those discount sites.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Maybe, but I promise you’re safe.”
“Said every murderer ever.”
“I’m pretty sure not every murderer says that. Some of them probably get off on fear.”
“You’re not making me feel better,” she grumbled.
“Do you feel unsafe with me?” I asked. Damn, I didn’t want that.
“Strangely, no. I have a feeling you’re more like an over-rambunctious puppy. Fractious and unintentionally destructive.”
“Big words,” I murmured, impressed.
“Second in my class, full ride to MSU on a science scholarship. I get by.”
“I guess so.” Now, I was really interested in her father’s insistence that she get a job. She’d mentioned earlier that he’d called her a slacker. Obviously, she wasn’t. I kind of wanted to punch him right about now. No one should make my girl feel bad about herself.
“So,” I said. “Are we riding?” I nodded toward my driver, Lance, who patiently waited beside the open door, doing his Buckingham Palace guard impression. If I knew Lance, and I did, he was taking this all in and was highly amused.
“Are you going to tell me your name? I’m not getting in a car with a stranger,” Cricket insisted.
“I’ve had you in my arms twice now. We’re definitely not strangers,” I teased. “But you’re right; I should tell you. That way, you’ll know what to scream when we’re in bed.”
Her mouth dropped open, her eyes wide at my audacity.
“Elijah Brixton,” I finished as if I hadn’t shocked her.
She quickly squashed her initial reaction then smirked. “I’m not calling you Elijah Brixton in bed.”
“So you admit we’ll be in bed?”
She crossed her arms over her glorious chest, probably not realizing it plumped her generous cle
avage. Those breasts… Not too large but perfect to fill my hands. My tongue swiped quickly over my bottom lip, and I tried not to stare. My throat dried out, probably because my whole essence had been drawn to my hardening cock. Fuck, I wanted her.
“My friends call me Brix,” I rasped.
“What do your non-friends call you?”
“Mr. Brixton.”
She looked thoughtful. “Hmm… So do you take friends to bed, or do women call you Mr. Brixton when you fuck them?”
I almost choked. “You are a naughty one. No, women do not call me Mr. Brixton in bed. I don’t sleep around, Princess. I don’t even recall the last time I was interested in anyone. You have no worries there.”
Cricket swallowed as she considered me, her gaze drifting along my body. My suit coat didn’t quite hide my reaction to her—damn these short-jacketed modern suits. But I wasn’t ashamed of my need for her, either.
I leaned toward her. “It’s all for you,” I whispered.
Her cheeks reddened, and she looked away. “I should—”
“No, you shouldn’t.” I tugged her hand. “C’mon, love.”
With little resistance, I had her in the vehicle and the door was shut behind us. The divider was up, and I pulled Cricket into my arms. My hand cupped the left side of her face, my thumb stroking over her smooth cheek before I slid my fingers around to the back of her neck. Her dark locks enveloped my wrist like a waterfall of silk.
I’d just started to lean in to kiss her, her eyes starting to drift shut, when Lance’s voice interrupted us. “Where to, sir?” he asked via the intercom.
I pressed the button to reply. “The penthouse, Lance. Thanks.”
“Now,” I said, turning back to my girl, “Where was I? Oh, yes…”
Not giving her a moment to think or protest, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. She whimpered softly, a single needy sound, but didn’t pull away. Her fingers curled into my jacket as she leaned in, giving me her perfect, pliant mouth. With a groan, I delved deeper and explored her. I pulled her closer, my arm locking around her waist while she straddled me. Fucking perfection.
