FUCK.
23
Kane
Present Day
She shut up. For once.
Maybe because she isn’t sure if I’m bluffing or not. Probably because she is fighting a battle in her head. I can see the conflict every time I look into her eyes. She is both aroused and filled with rage by every flirty comment I make. I can’t blame her. She wants to hate me, and she should hate me. I took away her freedom. I’m taking her across the Atlantic as currency. I’m a sick son of a bitch, and my reputation precedes me. Everyone knows the Carrillo brothers are not to be messed with. If you are in my grasp, there is only one way out.
Death.
I wasn’t really expecting her to stay in my bed last night. I don’t even know why I let her, and I should’ve been happy that she left, but I wasn’t. Instead, I woke up feeling irritated. Annoyed that she apparently hates me enough to feel the need to sneak out. It isn’t an unfair feeling, but it still irritates me because I don’t want her to hate me.
She should, but I don’t want her to.
I rarely care what people think about me, and the only opinion I actually listen to is Liam’s. There is just something about this girl that makes me feel the need to make her smile. Make her laugh. Make her come.
Jesus, she’s gorgeous when she comes.
Just thinking about last night gives me a hard-on.
I know I shouldn’t give her the freedom I’m giving her, and Liam is damn right for being pissed at me. If the situation was reversed, I wouldn’t have accepted it. This girl proved she can do a lot with a little freedom, yet here I am, showing her every single room on my yacht. It was probably a stupid decision, but I want her to relax. She demands respect, and I want to give it to her.
It’s fucking confusing.
I am fucking confusing.
She follows me around the yacht, her arms crossed as she catalogs everything I show her. Her mouth forms a small scowl, her lousy attempt to keep in control of the situation. News flash: I’m the one calling the shots. I showed her the gym, the spa, and after that I showed her the cigar room before I moved to the really fun parts.
She looks around the mahogany covered room, her brows raised in a sarcastic look, her arms crossed as she pops her hip out.
“So this is where you come up with diabolical plans?”
I chuckle at the question.
She’s not wrong.
The room clearly holds a certain ambiance. There is a small antique bar, and behind it are three rows of glass shelves, displaying the most expensive liquors from all over the world. I drink a lot, and I only stock the good stuff. You will never see me drinking some cheap ass commercial whiskey. On the left are two brown leather chesterfield armchairs with a small colonial coffee table in the middle. The hardwood floor was recently waxed, and the scent mixes with the smell of cigars. It is a real man-cave.
“Maybe,” I reply, a seed of a smile on my face. “Come on.” I place my hand on the small of her back and guide her out of the room. I swear I can feel a shiver run through her body, but I choose to not be a smartass about it. Every time I touch her, it’s like a jolt of electricity goes through our body’s. Like actual sparks.
It takes all of my power to restrain myself from moving my palm down to the curve of her luscious ass as we move around the yacht. With every area I show her, the amazement hits her pretty face a little more. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes widen a little more with every door I open, even though she does her best to hide it. The more impressed she looks, the more I feel my dick twitch in my pants. I like impressing her.
Any woman I brought on this yacht has always been in awe of it, the dollar signs piling up in their eyes. That is all women every really want me for. They hope to become my girlfriend and have this become a regular thing. Callie seems like a girl who isn’t easily impressed, so it means even more.
Next I show her the indoor pool, the basketball court, the library, and the cinema before I go to the room that I’m sure she will enjoy. I place my hand on the door, locking my gaze with hers.
“Now I think you, off all people, will appreciate this room.” I open up the door and walk in. The carpet is burgundy red with a fleur-de-lis print on it. On the left side of the room is a black roulette table with a green top. On the right side is a blackjack table, and right in the middle, attached to the gray industrial bar, is a poker table. All of the tables are surrounded by comfortable black leather chairs, intending to make players comfortable enough to gamble with their dollars like they are pennies. In fact, many associates and friends have lost a lot of money sitting at these tables. The bar stretches the entire room and sitting at it gives you the best view because the floor to ceiling windows provide total access to the ocean.
“I know you like to charm people at the poker table, but I also heard you’re actually pretty good at the game itself.” She looks at me in surprise before she looks around the room again.
“Jesus fuck,” she murmurs in awe. “You really have more money than you can spend, don’t you?”
I turn around with an arrogant smirk and open my arms, keeping them in the air while I slowly walk backwards farther into the room.
“What? You don’t like it?”
“Oh, I like it. It’s just … why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why the fuck would you build a casino on a yacht?” With her nose wrinkled, she looks genuinely confused. And she looks damn cute when she is confused. Cute … did I really just call her cute? She looks at me like I’m crazy, and I bite my lip to keep myself from stalking towards her and covering her mouth with mine.
“Because I can.”
“Arrogant ass,” she mumbles as she rolls her eyes.
Being around Callie is like driving in a Formula One race and being in first place two yards from the finish line, then crashing right before the checkered flag. She either has a damn good poker face or I really can’t fully impress this girl. Considering she finds most of her targets in the poker world, it’s probably both.
She walks to the poker table, her slim fingers tracing the felt while she looks out the window. Her nails are short but perfectly manicured, and I imagine her hands wrapped around my cock. You would have thought killing three men would at least make her lose a nail.
She seems lost in her own thoughts. Her mouth turned tight and grim. Her mood seems to shift within seconds like it did at breakfast, practically filling the room. I want to move up behind her and wrap my arms around her to comfort her, but I don’t.
“Why is this your favorite?” she asks while she puts my watch on the bar, staring at the clockwork. My eyes widen in shock as I glance at my wrist, even though I already know it’s bare.
“How the fuck do you do that?”
“There’s a reason they call me the best.” She shrugs casually. “It’s not the most expensive watch. Why is it special to you?”
I chuckle while shaking my head in disbelief mixed with pride.
“It’s the first watch I bought myself.”
“Hmm, sentimental.”
“You know, I hate boats,” she adds as she turns her body slightly towards me before she meets my gaze, looking up at me from under her lashes. Her lips are begging me to kiss her, and her sultry almond eyes that sparkle like an azure blue sea in the morning light are beckoning me.
“Because they’re secluded?” I ask, remembering our conversation in the elevator. You can dig up a lot of information about people, but their fears are rarely included in a private investigator’s report. I like knowing something about her that isn’t in her public record. It makes me feel special. Like we have a unique connection. She nods once before she turns her head back to the view.
“I was eighteen when I was taken,” she shares quietly.
Wanting to see her face, I walk behind the bar and pour us each a few fingers of 51-year-old Glenglassaugh before I put my watch back on my wrist.
“That was the first time I realiz
ed my freedom wasn’t something to take for granted. Since then, I’ve avoided being in secluded areas. I always know where the exits are, and I look for escape routes the second I walk into a building.” Her eyes move up to mine with an accusing look. “You put me on a damn boat.” The ferocity in her eyes is back, and I can’t help but feel the corner of my mouth rising. My dick seems to come to life the second she defies me.
“It’s a yacht,” I counter, just to piss her off.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes and looks at the tumbler I just put in front of her. “Kane, it’s ten in the morning.”
I pour the liquor down my throat and feel the liquid burn through my body before I pour myself another one. This is not the kind of whiskey you throw down your throat, but I need something to keep myself from throwing her on the bar and eating out her pussy for brunch.
“I’m aware.”
“So you’re an alcoholic billionaire?”
“I’ll drink yours if you don’t want it,” I tell her as I grab her glass.
“Fuck no!” she roars while snatching it out of my hand and bringing it to her lips. She takes a sip, then licks her lips.
Hot damn.
“This tastes expensive. But good.”
“Like me,” I offer with an arrogant smirk. I lower myself to her eye level by leaning my elbows on the bar. I lean forward, bringing our faces closer, and I notice the slight change in her breathing when her gaze moves to my lips. I stifle a groan when she bites her perfectly pink lip.
Fuck me, what this girl does to me.
“I plead the fifth on that one,” she taunts, her eyes softening a little with her teasing look. She keeps her gaze on mine while she takes another sip. Her slender neck looks totally kissable, and my dick is pounding against my pants as I watch her swallow. Fuck, how I want her to swallow me.
“I hate you for it,” she says, but I don’t believe her.
“For putting you on a yacht?”
She nods before dropping her eyes, looking into her glass. As she plays with it, twirling the liquid around in circles, I miss her eyes. I place my finger under her chin and nudge it up, forcing her to look at me and set her glass down on the bar.
“Is that all?”
She presses her lips together and tries to release her face from my grip, but I keep her in place. I hold her firmly enough to keep her here, but not enough to be hurt by my grip.
“Is that all?” I repeat. Her eyes narrow in defiance, the color darkening, but I also sense that she is conflicted. Uncertain. She stares at me for half a minute before she lets out a deep sigh.
“I haven’t decided yet, asshole,” she confesses. She looks tired. Like she’s not just physically tired, but weary. Like her tiredness has a deeper meaning. I brush my thumb over her lips, gently caressing the skin without letting go of her chin. She parts her lips, and her warm breath fans my finger. Whatever it is she is feeling, I want to make it better. I want to fix it.
I want to fix it, totally ignoring the fact that I’m the one who caused her to have something to fix in the first place.
God, I’m such a hypocrite.
“You’re safe with me.”
Her questionable look hits me right in the gut.
“Right, just not free.”
I don’t know why I told her that. Why I want her to believe me. She is not a girl I would usually go for. I always go for the obviously sexy ones. The ones who are skimpily dressed and make it no secret that they want me. That they would do anything to please me. With this feisty redhead, the tables have turned. I want to do anything to please her.
My hand falls from her chin as she moves her gaze towards the ocean again. I can sense her drifting away. I keep my focus on her, watching worry alter her expression. I stay quiet, letting her have her thoughts until I notice her eyes begin watering up.
“Hey?” I touch her shoulder, trying to get her attention. She blinks and brings her gaze back to me. “Where did you go? Just now?”
“Nowhere.” She scowls as she schools her features, so she looks confident and in control again.
I let go of her shoulder and place my hand over hers so we’re holding her glass. She jerks her hand a little when we touch, making some of the whiskey spill over the edge and onto the bar. Neither of us moves to do anything about it as our eyes lock.
I want to kiss this girl so badly.
When I notice the lazy look that slowly washes over her face, I take it as my cue to go for it. I lean forward, pressing my forehead against hers, our mouths just an inch apart. She closes her eyes in anticipation, totally giving in to me. There is nothing sexier than persuading this fearless woman. I grab her neck, determined to close the final space between us and place my mouth on hers when a knock on the door makes her body jerk. I throw my head down in defeat, not letting go of her neck. Fuck me. I was almost there, just an inch away from starting what would have led to me burying myself inside her again. I let out a long sigh before I look up to see who it is.
“Yes?” I growl, not masking my annoyance. Julian softly opens the door, then pops his head in.
“Pardon, sir. Mr. Carrillo has requested your appearance.”
“Of course he has,” I mumble. “I’ll be right there.”
I dismiss him with a look, and he closes the door before my eyes move back to the pretty girl in front of me. I place a soft kiss on her lips, not willing to leave without remembering what her lips feel like on mine. Nothing more than our lips briefly connecting, but hopefully enough to keep me going for a few hours. Enough for her to know that I’m not done with her.
“How are you a Reyes?” I wonder out loud, even though I know she can’t answer that question.
“What do you mean?” She looks confused.
I shake my head.
“You don’t talk like a Reyes, you don’t act like a Reyes, you sure as fuck don’t look like a Reyes. Just wondering how a gorgeous girl like you can be related to Junior Reyes.” She smiles and relaxes a bit upon hearing my explanation, and I feel a little bit of her wall breaking down.
“Trust me, that’s the same thing I’ve been wondering most of my life. I guess I just take more after my mom.” She shrugs with one shoulder.
“Thank God for that,” I murmur against her lips before I break the contact and let her go, even though I would rather drag her to my bed. I shoot her a wink before strolling around the bar, resisting the itch in my hands to undress her right now.
“You can walk around and do whatever you want. Every room has an intercom that you can use to reach Julian, and he will help you with anything you need.”
She doesn’t move, but her eyes follow my movement as I walk past her towards the door.
“Thank you,” she replies without turning around. Her shoulders are poised, and she keeps her head high while she stares out of the window at the ocean. Her back is perfectly straight, illustrating her strength and confidence, but something in her voice doesn’t quite match.
“For what?”
The sigh she lets out is heavy and filled with emotion.
“For letting me walk around. Giving me a little of my freedom back.”
It’s not what I want her to be having to thank me for. I wish she was thanking me for a good night. For the best fuck of her life. I wish she wasn’t fucking Callie Reyes. I wish she was just some girl I picked up in a bar, giving us nothing more complex to handle than deciding whether we would go to her place or mine.
But she isn’t just some girl.
“Don’t make me regret it.” I reach for the door and halt for a few seconds to watch her reaction.
Her face turns sideways, just enough so I can see her profile, but she doesn’t move her body. I can see a small fraction of her azure green eyes, sparkling more than usual because of the thin layer of moisture in them. She’s sad. And I hate it.
“I won’t,” she whispers.
“Good,” I respond before I walk out. Finding out what is bothering her will have to wait a few mor
e hours.
I take a deep breath, rubbing my neck while I trek around the ship towards the office. I’m sure Liam is in there, and I’m sure he is going to throw a tantrum because I showed Callie the rest of the yacht. I know I’m right when I open the door and he’s scowling at me. Sitting behind my vintage desk like he owns the place. I take a place in one of the armchairs in front of it and roll my eyes at him.
Normally I would have smacked him out of my chair. Nobody takes my place, not even my older brother. He may be older and usually the calmer, more dependable one of us, most of the time, but I am very much the king. I make choices he never dares to make, and while it was a team effort that made us millionaires, I’m the one who made us billionaires. For now, I’m going to let him sit in my chair because whatever he is going to say, I probably would say with even more force if he was on the other side of this situation.
“What the fuck, Kane? Are you out of your damn mind?” His eyes are dark and narrowed. Small strings of his dark blond hair have fallen in front of his face, and the veins in his neck are so pumped up they may burst.
I raise an eyebrow.
“She’s just a girl, Liam.”
“Not the goddamn point,” he shouts while slamming his fist on the desk. Any other person would at least flinch, but my big brother scares everyone but me.
“You think I wouldn’t have found out when I noticed her strolling around the fucking ship?”
“It’s a yacht,” I reply dryly.
“Fuck. You!” he roars with all his force, his deep voice rumbling like a bass drum. I bet anyone on this level of the yacht can feel the vibrations. He’s really pissed. Liam is the one who always keeps a straight face through everything. I’m the impulsive one, Liam’s the one who’s more calculated. To make him roar, his blood has to be boiling like a frying pan. No one else knows this side of him because I’m the only one who gets the honor. Mainly because if someone else got his blood even a little warmed up, he’d make their blood as cold as ice. This morning was an exception, proving even more how the Reyes family gets under his skin. But killing his baby brother is something he can’t do. And not just because he doesn’t stand a chance at succeeding.
Chasing Fire (The Fire Duet Book 1) Page 19
