by K. Webster
When Mateo was caught cheating on Poppy, I’d expected the tears and woe is me routine to continue out the door. But I should have known better. Poppy is fierce and strong. She cried silent tears all the way back to her house. I’d tried to go in, but she firmly told me no. I wanted to ignore her and push through anyway, but with this unexpected news with Mateo, I was worried our deal would get trashed. I needed time to think and make sure she wouldn’t fuck up my meetings with the judge, police commissioner, and senator.
I look up from my laptop and watch her as she taps away on her computer in her office. No tears this week. Whatever sadness she had, she must have cried it all out Saturday. Almost a week later, and she’s hardened into a viper that reminds me too much of the people I hate. I much prefer her ragged, rattled, and ruined. Right now, she’s poised, focused, and angry.
“Tick tock,” I say, my first indicator since Mateo broke up with her that I’m still going forward with my plan to blackmail her.
Her fingers pause on the keyboard, and her blue eyes dart to mine. “Or what? You’ll fuck me?” She flashes me an icy smile. “Nobody cares if you fuck me, Camden. These little boy games you’re playing are childish.”
A flash of fury ignites within me. “I’m not a little boy.”
She smirks. “I allowed you to keep your meetings since your career is so important to you, but I will not be blackmailed into forcing my father to meet with you. You have nothing to hold over me. Everyone knows I’m no longer engaged to Mateo.”
I lift a brow. “How do you figure?”
She taps her knuckle on her screen. “This.”
I rise from my chair and walk around the desk until I’m behind her. Placing my hands on the top of her leather chair, I lean in to read an article in the Tampa Times.
Tampa’s Golden Girl Tarnished
I grit my teeth as I skim the article. It’s all bullshit she fed to a reporter. Mostly, it’s a watered-down version of the actual events. Her fiancé found out about a son he had and wanted to make it work with the mother and their child. Poppy and Mateo parted as friends and wish each other the best.
Cue fucking eye roll.
“So, there. You have nothing on me,” she snaps. “And after today, you can find someone else to intern for because it sure as hell won’t be me.”
I pull her chair away from the desk and roughly spin her toward me. She lets out a squeak of surprise. I grab the arms of her chair, pinning her wrists, and glower down at her.
“It’s not that fucking easy,” I growl, lowering my face until we’re inches apart. “I think you seem to have forgotten about our past.”
“We have no past,” she spits out.
“Not one you want to tell anyone,” I utter, an evil grin turning my lips up. “What about the time we made out when I was fifteen?”
“You’re such a liar!” she yells at me. “No one will believe you because it didn’t happen!”
“Money can buy you anything,” I tell her coldly. “It can buy me witnesses. It can buy me someone to forge motherfucking love letters and date them years ago. It can buy me photoshopped pictures of whatever the hell I want.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You know I will. I can have whatever I want inside of an hour. Test me, Poppy. Fucking test me. All you had to do was get me one more goddamn meeting. Why are you being so difficult? I swore I’d be out of your hair the moment you got me that meeting.”
Her hard gaze weakens. “Why do you want it so bad? Why is it so important?”
“It just is,” I mutter.
The other three went off exactly as I planned. Those men know exactly where they stand in my world and it’s below my fucking feet. They’ve promised me the entire goddamn world, and for now, I’ll zip my lips.
Until I get my last meeting.
Then, I’m going to make a mess of everything.
“Call him.”
“I’ve tried every day this week,” she says, pouting.
“Try again.”
“No.”
I arch a brow. “You have to.”
“I’m not calling him again, so do what you must. I’ll try again next week.”
“Then that means you failed,” I murmur, my gaze skimming down to her lips. “That means I’m going to fuck you.”
“My failure doesn’t guarantee your success,” she challenges, licking her lips. The action has my cock wide fucking awake. “I wonder if you’ll have to drug me again. I’m wondering if you’re compensating for something. I mean, who has to drug a woman—”
I grip her wrist and haul her hand to my cock straining in my slacks. “I can assure you, I can back up my big ego with my even bigger dick.”
She gapes at me. “You’re awfully confident.”
“You creamed your panties the first time I flirted with you,” I tell her smugly, using her hand to stroke me through my clothes. Her fingers are stiff at first, but then she relaxes them. “Your pretty face turned pink any time I looked at you. You wanted me to fuck you. You went home and fingered your perfect cunt to thoughts of me deep inside.”
“Camden…”
“I’m going to spend days showing you just how much your body wants me, Poppy. Days.”
I pull away and start packing my shit up.
“W-What? Now? No. I have crap to do and—”
“Nope. I cleared your calendar.”
“But I can’t leave in the middle of the—”
“You’re going.”
“I have all this work that needs—”
I unplug her laptop and snap it closed. She grumbles when I shove it in her messenger bag. “Let’s roll, Popps. We’re losing daylight.”
“It’s not even noon. We’re not losing daylight,” she huffs, but starts gathering her things.
She’s going a little too easily…
I swivel around as she shoulders her purse and storm over to her. My hand grips her throat, and I press a kiss to her lips. When she gasps in surprise, I plunge my tongue into her mouth. I kiss her in a threatening way.
A way that says I’m smarter. More powerful. And richer. So don’t try to play me.
Whatever fucked up game she thinks she can play to screw me over is pointless.
I will win.
When I pull away, her eyes are closed and her cheeks are pink. The tough woman from earlier is gone and this soft, almost smiling one is in her place. Confusion wars within me.
This was supposed to be difficult.
Yet, here she is, looking all too eager to fuck her intern.
“Let’s go,” I bark as I gather my stuff and stalk over to her door. I open it and usher her out. Nellie shoots me a pitiful fucking stare, but I ignore her. All week, she’s tried talking to me, but I’ve given her the cold shoulder.
Only one woman has my attention.
“We’ll be out for the rest of the afternoon. Meetings,” I lie as we pass Nellie.
She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. I flash her one of my smoldering grins and wink at her. All animosity bleeds from her as she blushes. “See you Monday.”
Poppy remains quiet until we’re in my car cruising down the road. “Where are we going?” she asks finally. “Your place or mine?”
I snort. “Neither.”
“The hotel?”
“Nope.”
She lets out a huff of frustration, but I ignore her. I turn on some music and stew over the fact that I’m not getting that meeting with the mayor. I’ll get it one way or another. For now, I’ll take fucking joy in defiling his heartbroken daughter. That’ll make up for one loss by giving me a win I am all too happy to claim.
I glance over at Poppy and she’s stiff. Tense and ready for a fight. She really thinks she’ll be able to pull some shit when I get her naked. That she won’t enjoy it or be able to shame me for my lack of play in the bedroom. She has no idea what I’m capable of. Whatever she and Mateo did was nothing compared to how I’m going to disrupt her world.
B
reaking her will be fun.
Definitely a win.
We pull up to Kipper’s Marina and I park in my assigned spot. I love the confusion that radiates from her, but she refuses to give voice to.
“Let’s go,” I grumble.
“Why are we here?” she asks as she reaches for her messenger bag.
“Leave it,” I instruct. “You’ll have everything you need on the boat.”
“Boat?”
My Azimut S7 is my newest baby. Grandad bought me my first diecast yacht when I was a little kid and I’ve been obsessed ever since. Now, instead of collecting metal boats or making them from model kits, I just buy them.
God, I love money.
Sometimes, I wonder if I’m more like my father than I’d like to admit. I used to marvel at how he could buy anything he wanted whenever he wanted. Once, I asked him for a Ulysse Nardin Tourbillon watch. I was fourteen. All it took was a big smile and telling him he was a good dad. Ten minutes later, he was on the phone with a rep putting in a custom order for a two-hundred-thousand-dollar watch. I was proud as fuck of that watch too. Wore it every day until my dad died. Now, it sits in a drawer. Hidden away. Just like the rest of my memories of him.
“You don’t have to run!” Poppy calls out from behind me.
I slow, realizing I was hoofing it along. Memories of my father are conflicting. Everyone wants someone to blame. It was his parties. His friends. His world. All of what was exposed to me nearly ruined me. But deep down in my bitter heart, I know it’s not completely true. It’s just not something I want to think about right now. Right now, I have other shit to focus on. Reflecting back on how my dad wasn’t as awful as my brothers claim is a Band-Aid that can be pulled off another day.
When I hit the dock and the warm sea air blows on my face, the tension bleeds from me. Poppy’s heels clack on the wood behind me. I’m not sure I’ll be able to relax with her in my space, but I have no choice. She’s here, and I’m ready to make her pay. I’ll fuck her and send her on her way. After that, I can come back and plot some more.
Always plotting.
“Poppy,” I say, motioning to my Azimut. “Meet Lady Vindicta. She’s sleek like a panther. Fancy as fuck too. But when I get my hands on her and get her out on the water, she purrs like a little kitten.”
Her brows lift, but I can see a gleam of excitement in her crystal blue eyes that match the cloudless sky. “Yours is the only black boat out here. It’s pretty.”
“Custom paint job. They call it soulless abyss.”
She purses her lips, as if remembering why she’s here, and steps onto my boat.
No getting away now, Poppy.
Chapter Ten
Poppy
He belongs here. Preppy as hell and arrogant. Camden Pearson grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and wouldn’t know real life if it popped him upside the head. Spoiled rotten. He has that awful father of his to thank for that. Eric was a dick of epic proportions. It’s no wonder he spawned little hellions.
Camden is most definitely born from the depths of hell.
Soulless abyss.
How fitting is that paint color?
All irritated thoughts of Camden and his father drain away as I step onto the most beautiful boat I’ve ever seen. Dad has a pontoon boat, but it’s laughable in comparison.
“Shoes off when you go below deck,” Camden grunts from behind me.
I stop to pull off my heels and hold them in my hand as I watch him effortlessly untie his yacht from the dock. He motions to a door that leads to the cabin.
“If you look in the middle drawer by the closet, my brother Nixon’s wife left her swimsuit last time they used Lady Vindicta. Go put it on,” he instructs as he moves to sit in the captain’s chair. “Now, Poppy.”
I flip him the bird, ignoring the way his deep chuckle sends shivers down my spine, and walk down the steep stairs to the cabin. I’m shocked at how spacious it is. Everything is clean and sleek. White walls. White, faux fur blanket on the bed. Bright lights and the scent of oranges. Perfection. My feet on the soft, plush, pale gray carpet has me sighing. I toss my shoes in the corner, along with my purse. For once, I don’t miss my laptop. The boat starts moving, but it’s smooth and the rumble of the engine is quiet. I know he’s here to punish me and show me what a little badass he is, but I’m secretly thrilled to take a break from the stressful week I’ve had.
Mateo.
Annoyance flitters through me.
Saturday, I’d been embarrassed. That was why I cried. Knowing some young thing shows up and he practically forgets my name hurt. Sure, they had a history before me, but it still stung.
Stung but didn’t destroy.
It’s times like these I wish my mother were still alive. She took her life a decade ago. It was a rocky time for me. Dad, like always, hardened his heart and acted as though it didn’t bother him. I always resented him for that. For once in his life, I wanted him soft—soft when it mattered. Dad doesn’t know how to be soft, though. He kept on while I spun in circles, lost.
I open the first drawer, and my flesh heats when I see an array of vibrators, handcuffs, and other kinky things, though I have no idea what they are. Unease flitters through me as I consider Camden using them on me.
Unease.
Not excitement.
My heart stutters.
I can’t even lie to myself. Pathetic.
Huffing, I slam the drawer shut and open the second one. There are a couple swimsuits. Both skimpy. One is black, and the other is white. If he’s going to play devil, then I’ll play angel. I pull out the white one and quickly change into it. The triangles barely cover my nipples, much less the globes of my breasts. It’s a tiny scrap of nothing, but one quick glance in the full-length mirror tells me I look hot. If I’m going to dance with the devil, I may as well look good doing it. After throwing my hair in a messy bun and grabbing my sunglasses, I climb up the stairs and find Camden.
He’s shed his suit jacket and tie. His sleeves are now rolled up his toned, tanned forearms, and his Aviators are perched on his nose. They’re mirrored, so I can only see my reflection rather than his piercing blue eyes. I try not to focus on how much the little suit reveals. Instead, I walk up to him and motion to the steering wheel.
“I didn’t know you knew much about boats.” I cross my arms over my chest, worrying about my appearance.
“A lot you don’t know about me,” he rumbles, the sound sexy and enticing.
I shiver and avoid his hidden stare to look out at the ocean. The waters are calm, and we practically glide across. When he guns the engine, I lose my footing and stumble into him. His strong arm hooks around my waist and he pulls me into his lap. My barely-covered ass rubs against his obvious erection. The thought that I turn him on turns me on.
Fuck, I am in deep shit with him.
His palm splays over my stomach, and my breath hitches as I realize just how big his hand is. I try to focus on the sparkly water, but it’s difficult when his thumb rubs me just below my breast.
“Have you ever driven a boat?” he asks, his hot breath tickling my shoulder.
“I drove my dad’s pontoon boat a few times.”
He grunts as though he’s not pleased by my answer. “The pontoon is like a minivan. Lady Vindicta is like the Bugatti.” His left hand grips mine, while his right stays planted on my stomach. “Put your hand here,” he instructs, his voice husky. “I need you to drive.”
“Why?”
“Because my hands will be busy.”
Heat pools in my core, and I try not to rub against his cock. The fact that my body turns on this young hottie has some of my self-esteem returning. After my humiliating breakup, I’m still a little fragile. My ego took a beating, and it’s nice to feel wanted again.
“What will your hands be doing?” I ask, my words breathy and too needy.
His left hand grips my thigh and squeezes. “Exploring.” He slides his palm up my leg until his thumb meets the fabric of my swim
suit bottoms. “Keep your eyes ahead.”
I bite on my lip and stare out at the water. I don’t see anything, but he has me on edge.
“White’s an interesting color,” he observes. “Screams innocence.”
“Seems fitting,” I argue.
His teeth bite into my shoulder, but not hard enough to hurt too bad. Then his tongue runs along the new grooves in my flesh, soothing the indentions. “Your screams will be far from innocent.”
Before I can come up with a haughty remark, his fingers slide along the edge of my bottoms, barely sliding beneath them. My heart races and my skin flushes with heat. When he pulls his hand away to rub my thigh again, I groan in irritation.
“What?” he taunts. “Does the babysitter like it when she gets touched here?” His fingers dip below the edge once more.
“Don’t be weird,” I grumble.
He laughs, and it sounds genuine. “I’m not the one getting naked on a yacht with a man she hates.” His fingers tug slightly at the strings on one side of swimsuit bottoms. The bow falls loose and the material starts to slide away. His palm leaves my stomach and he does the same with the other side. My heart stammers in my chest. I should stop this or put up a fight. What I shouldn’t do is lean my back against his chest.
“You want this,” he breathes against my neck. “Who knows for how long you’ve wanted this…”
I groan at another one of his stupid insinuations. Camden Pearson wasn’t even a thought until he showed up in Mateo’s kitchen two weeks ago looking hot and smug and irresistible. “I don’t want this.”
He laughs again.
I don’t even get mad because it’s a lie.
I’m afraid of how much I want this.
Whatever this is.
He wants to ruin me for some reason, and I’m letting him—willingly. My father would be horrified at my behavior. Then again, had he not blown me off, I wouldn’t be in this position to begin with.
“Are you drugged?” he asks before biting my neck.
“N-No.”
“Am I forcing you?”
His fingers nudge the fabric. All it would take is a flick of his fingers and it would fall away, leaving me bare to him.
