Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I wasn’t a fucking gangster. I wasn’t a fucking killer. I was just a man that built a company and knew what he wanted. I wanted to control what I made with my own hands and I wanted to fuck my stepdaughter. I wanted her to no longer be my stepdaughter one day, hopefully soon.

  I didn’t want unreasonable things.

  I stood, adjusting myself, then left the office. “Hold my calls,” I told Evelyn as I walked past. Briefly, I wondered if I should let her know what I was doing, but I figured it was best to leave her out of it. At the end of the day, Evelyn and Emily were innocent of everything. I was the one that they wanted, and so I was the one that should shoulder all of the burden. I wouldn’t put her in any more danger than was necessary.

  I got into the elevator and rode it up, trying to control my nerves.

  This was the moment I had been waiting for. I was finally going to speak face to face with Bruce, the bastard that had been harassing me. We were going to hash it out, and I was going to figure out what my final move had to be. After this, I could plan.

  But part of me thought he was just going to try and throw me out of a window. Killing me would make all of his problems disappear, though murder investigations could be a real pain in the ass. Still, I knew Cox, and if anyone could get away with murdering me in this building, it was him.

  I shook my head, marveling at how easily I could imagine someone trying to kill me. I never thought things could get this low, but they had, and I suspected they could get lower still.

  The elevator doors dinged, pulling me from my thoughts. I stepped off and looked around at the empty, half-built office. Plastic sheeting hung from the bare rafters and partially deconstructed cubicles filled the space. There was trash on the ground, mostly papers and files.

  “Bruce,” I called out.

  “This way,” he answered. I headed toward his voice. It was coming from the north side of the building near the windows.

  I saw him standing there, silhouetted by the outside sunlight, Cox by his side. I felt anger flare up inside of me. I couldn’t believe Cox would be here, willing to show his face, that traitorous piece of shit. He had to have some measure of shame left inside of him, but apparently not. Apparently he was okay just standing there, his face flat and normal as always, not showing a single emotion.

  I stopped in front of the two men and crossed my arms, waiting for them to speak.

  The arrogant bastards watched me for a minute or two, staring me down. Cox had no expression on his face, neither happiness nor embarrassment, just his normal cold blankness. The man had worked for me for years and he should feel like a snake, but he wasn’t showing it. I hoped he was stewing on the inside, that piece of shit rat bastard.

  “So, you’re here,” Bruce said finally. “I wasn’t sure you’d show.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “You know what we have on you.”

  I shrugged, “One more scandal won’t matter.”

  Bruce laughed, shaking his head. “You’re insane, Carter. This isn’t just some small scandal. This is you fucking your stepdaughter. You’ll be destroyed. Nobody will touch you after this.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “We have more than what we showed you, much more. Clearly, Cox here has been working for me, and you know how efficient he can be.”

  My eyes flashed to him, anger boiling up to the surface despite my trying to remain calm. “You’re a piece of shit snake, Cox,” I said. “I thought you were a good man. I paid you well and treated you right. I guess I was wrong.”

  “A better offer came along,” he said simply.

  “Scumbag. I never pegged you as a rat traitor. How can anyone trust you or work with you now?”

  “Enough,” Bruce said, cutting in. “Enough. I don’t need to hear you two squabbling like an old married couple.”

  I spit on the ground, staring at Cox. I hoped he understood that he was less than dirt to me now, and he had been diminished in the world. Maybe he was getting a lot of money from this, but that would never replace his lost honor.

  I turned my attention back to Bruce and the matter at hand. “What do you want?” I asked him.

  “Finally getting down to business.” He smiled at me serenely. “It’s simple, actually. I want you to resign from the company and to leave the country.”

  I laughed. “Very simple.”

  “I will accept nothing less.”

  “Actually, you’ll accept much less. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Are you sure about that? You’re not in a position to negotiate.”

  “Actually, I think I am. You see, you won’t release that information. As much as you hate it, Valor Tech is attached to my name and my reputation. I founded the company and built the company, and public perception is on my side here. If you come after me, you come after Valor.”

  “Ah,” Bruce said, the smile never leaving his face. “I wondered if you’d make that connection.”

  “You can’t destroy me without destroying the company.”

  “There’s one big mistake you’re making, Carter. You assume that I don’t want to destroy Valor.”

  “What? What’s the point of this then? Without the company, you’ll have nothing.”

  “There are powers in this world much larger than companies,” he said with a sly smile. “Some men would be very happy to see your company destroyed.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Insider trading,” he said. “I’d tell a few close friends that the stock of Valor was about to drop in exchange for small portions of their profit. I’d also sell off what I had, of course.”

  “That would never work. There are too many regulatory agencies watching the market for that exact thing.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Are you willing to gamble your life on it? Because I am.”

  I stared at Bruce as I slowly realized something that I had never noticed before: he was insane.

  Not actually crazy, of course. Bruce was an intelligent man and clearly still had control of himself. But he was willing to take serious and intense risks, the sort I never would have guessed he was willing to take. That, combined with his willingness to blackmail, suggested that he had some serious instability issues.

  This wasn’t a fully rational man standing before me, as I had been assuming. All of my calculations so far had been around the assumed fact that Bruce was a normal, self-regulating human. Instead, he was clearly unstable and verging on madness.

  For a second, I felt afraid.

  My mind worked through my options. Part of me wanted to pull my gun and kill them both, but I suspected Cox would pull his faster. He knew I kept a weapon in my office and was probably prepared for something like that. No, I had to do something else, probably something equally drastic.

  That left me only one option. It was obvious and it was dirty, essentially the last thing I wanted to do, but I had to do it. I couldn’t see any other way out of this mess with my honor and my company intact.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said finally.

  “Don’t think long. I’ll give you two days to figure it out. If you don’t make your choice then, I’ll release the information and we’ll see who survives.”

  I didn’t bother to respond. I turned without another glance at Cox and quickly strode to the elevators. I thought I heard Bruce laughing as I walked away, but I couldn’t be sure.

  I was already planning my next moves. I knew I had to finish this soon, much sooner than people expected, otherwise we’d be done for. But I finally had a course of action, and I hoped it would be good enough to get us all through it. Because this wasn’t just about me anymore, it was equally about Emily and Evelyn. I couldn’t just leave them behind and forge ahead with some random plan. Whatever I did had to include them in some way, at least it had to have their best interests at heart.

  I couldn’t tell them my plan. Not exactly at least. I knew they’d both try to talk me out of it, but I couldn’t have that. If th
ey tried, I was afraid I’d listen and back down. I needed strength and dedication now, nothing else would do.

  But before I did anything, I had one last stop. I had one last thing to do, something that I wanted to do, not something that I needed to do. It was just as important as anything else, and I couldn’t wait another second.

  25

  Emily

  For some reason, sitting out by the pool had lost its excitement for me. Probably because I had done it almost every day for the last few weeks, but that was only part of the issue.

  I realized that I felt exposed sitting outside. I knew there was someone coming after us, someone that wanted to see Carter destroyed and was using me to do it. I felt naked and exposed sitting out in the open next to the pool, like someone was watching me.

  Which was why I went into hiding. Not hiding, exactly, but I wasn’t going to sit out in the open anymore. It was a shame, since the weather was gorgeous, but at least the mansion had a lot to do.

  I spent the morning exploring. I visited the Turkish bath again, just for a few minutes, and then went on to the bowling alley, the movie theater room, and the kitchens. The staff ignored me, for the most part, and my bodyguard followed me around, but it was nice. Sitting outside with nothing to do felt lonely sometimes, even though the mansion was filled with people.

  Eventually I found myself drawn to Carter’s music room. As I approached the door, I looked back at Secret Service Steve, as I had started calling him.

  “Stay out here, okay?” I said to him.

  He nodded once. Good old Steve.

  I went into the music room and shut the door behind me. Looking around, I had a strange feeling inside of me, like I was trespassing or something.

  This was Carter’s most personal room. I could see it in everything. He had little notes and papers and books lying around, some of them still unfinished with bookmarks on the inside. It looked like it had been straightened by up a maid, but Carter’s personality was still there.

  I began to skim through his record collection again, marveling at the sheer size of it. I wondered how much it all weighed, but got distracted by the music to really do the math. I ended up putting on a Smiths compilation album called Louder than Bombs. I was surprised to see that he had a pretty good Smiths collection, and never would have guessed that he was a fan.

  As the jingly-jangly pop music floated through the air, I decided to grab a little glass of wine. I filled it less than half and sat down on the couch, relaxing, letting the music drift around me.

  I understood what he saw in that room. It was relaxing to be surrounded by so much music, and although putting on records was a lot harder than just streaming stuff, there was a level of active choice that came alone with it. I had to actually touch the records, look through them, and eventually choose one. I couldn’t just put on a single song, I had to be ready to experience the whole record, or at least one side of it.

  I grew up in the age of CDs, so I was used to skipping between songs, but I liked being forced into hearing the whole record. You got a better sense of what it was supposed to be as a cohesive whole. It was interesting how the format of the media affected the way we experienced it. Records couldn’t be skipped around, and so we have to sit down and hear the whole thing, while CDs could be skipped and repeated so easily. They were seamless, whereas the seams were very visible with records.

  I realized that I was daydreaming when I heard a knock at the door. I nearly spilled my wine, surprised by the sudden intrusion of sound. I put the glass down on the side table and stood.

  “Yes?” I called out.

  I expected Secret Service Steve, but instead Carter came in.

  “Carter,” I said. “Hey.”

  “I was looking for you. I figured you’d be out by the pool.”

  “I came in here instead. You don’t need to knock on your own door, you know.”

  He shrugged. “Just because I own it, doesn’t mean I can just barge in whenever.”

  “Shouldn’t you be at work anyway?”

  “I should,” he confirmed. He turned and shut the door behind him, turning the top lock.

  “Trying to make sure I can’t get out?” I jokingly said.

  His look told me everything I needed to know. I felt my breath catch in my throat as he came toward me.

  “I had to come see you,” he said.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Nothing really. I made a decision.”

  He stopped inches in front of me and was practically radiating heat. He looked incredible in his suit, like he always did, but for some reason I really noticed him. I saw the way he was immaculately dressed, not a stitch out of place. His eyes were intense and penetrating, his body large and muscular. He easily dwarfed me, making me feel so small. I marveled that such a smart man had such an enormous, muscular body.

  “What decision?”

  He took my waist, pulling me against him. “About the future.”

  “You’re being vague.”

  “Good,” he said softly. “I didn’t come here to talk about that.”

  “What did you come here for?”

  “You know what.”

  I felt a shiver run down my spine as excitement pulsed up my core. I knew exactly what he wanted. I knew the moment he walked into the room. I could see it in his eyes.

  He kissed me then, deep and hard. I felt the wet pooling between my legs as I fell into his embrace, kissing him back. It felt like years since the last time I felt his touch, although I knew it hadn’t been very long. It was the pool-house, that rushed and intense moment, but this was different. We weren’t rushed, although there was an edge to Carter’s passion.

  He steered me toward the record wall and pushed me up against the counter. I slipped up, sitting on it, my back against the shelving holding the records. He peeled my shirt off, tossing it aside, and kissed my neck.

  “Fuck, Emily,” he whispered. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. I’ve been fucking hard for you.”

  “You know I can’t get you off my mind.”

  “I know.” He kissed me hard again, unbuttoning my jeans. He pulled them off, sliding them under my ass, leaving them wrapped around my ankles as his fingers slowly found my wet pussy.

  I moaned into his kiss as he slipped two fingers deep inside of me. He slowly pulled them back and began to work my clit, my body pressed against the records, my ass sitting on the shelf in front of them. He took my wrists with his free hand and pinned them up above my head as he bit my lower lip.

  “Perfect,” he said, pressing his fingers inside of me. “You know that? You’re fucking perfect. I’m hard every single time I think of this tight, wet pussy. I know you’re dripping every time I’m near, you jus can’t help it.”

  “Shit, Carter,” I moaned as he worked my pussy. I remembered the taste of his cum in my mouth and wanted more.

  “I’m going to take you the way I’ve been wanting to. No distractions. Every inch of you is going to be mine.”

  “Every inch.”

  “Every fucking inch.”

  He pulled me off the shelf and practically tore off my bra and panties, leaving me completely naked and exposed in front of him.

  He stepped back to look at me, a small smile on his face. I felt so naked in front of his gaze, but that only made me more excited. He was penetrating me with his stare, pure, unrestrained passion clear in his eyes.

  He slipped off his tie and his jacket, tossing them aside. “Lean back against that shelf,” he said. I listened. “Spread your legs.” I did as he asked. “Now, put your right middle finger into your mouth, yeah, just like that. Good. Slowly press it between your legs, starting at your clit, before you push it deep inside of yourself.”

  I obeyed him, sucking on my finger before slowly pressing it inside of me. I moaned, loving the feeling of him watching me touching myself. He pulled off his shirt and I stared at his muscular body as I pressed another finger inside of myself.

  H
e finished undressing as I touched myself, never taking his eyes off my body. Finally, he stood before me, big, thick, hard cock in his hand, slowly stroking it.

  I stepped toward him, but he pushed me back. I slammed against the shelf as he dropped to his knees and shoved his face between my legs. He began to suck and lick my pussy fast, one hand on his cock stroking himself, the other supporting my ass.

  “Oh fuck, Carter,” I moaned, lacing my fingers through his hair. He licked and sucked me like a starving man, eating my every juice, lapping me up. Pleasure rocked through me, overwhelming me completely. I’d needed this, needed his mouth against my pussy, his eyes worshipping my body. I could tell how badly he wanted me every time he looked at me, but that sensation was magnified by a million when I took off my clothes. It was an incredible feeling to know that a man like him couldn’t hold himself back when he saw my breasts, my hips, my skin.

  He stood up suddenly, pressing me back up and onto the shelf. He spread my legs wide and I felt his cock press against my pussy. He took my neck, looking me in the eyes. “You want this?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  He pressed himself roughly deep inside of me. I tipped my head back, his hand loosely wrapped around my neck, as he filled my pussy. Pain and pleasure mixed in an incredible, intoxicating feeling. I loved how he could destroy me, break me so easily, and his hand around my throat only heightened that excitement and danger.

  He began to thrust inside of me, shaking the whole wall, but he didn’t seem to care. I wrapped my legs around him and held onto the edge, his one hand on my throat and the other on my ass.

  “Take this fucking cock,” he grunted as he thrust deep inside of me. “You’re the tight dirty slut that I’m going to throw away everything for. I’d give up anything for another taste of this tight cunt.”

  I bit down onto his shoulder and he grunted, fucking me harder. He released my throat and took my hair, pulling my head back as he pressed deeper. His tongue found my nipples, teasing me with his teeth and lips.