Innocent Eyes

by Charlotte E Hart

  “Father said you were having a meeting, told me to come join in.” Did he? Interfering old bastard. I snarl at the thought, turning back and closing the laptop lid.

  “I told you, Josh. No.” I swing back to face him fully, my feet finding their way to the door to show him out of it. “No meetings. No job for you. Go fuck around with something else.”

  Nate snorts and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, the click of his lighter showing his contempt for little brother.

  “Yeah, Joshy. Go smash another car up like a good little boy.”

  “Fuck you, Nate,” Josh booms, his body growing to its full height and proving he’s not quite the little brother Nate thinks he is. I shove him backwards, ready to stop the family spat before it begins. I’ve got no time for it, and no desire to have this dick in my house while Emily could walk up at any second. I don’t even know why I left the door open for her, or why I put clean clothes on the floor for her to find, but I’m fucked if the first vision she gets of partial freedom is going to involve Josh and his mouth.

  “Leave, Josh, before I make you.” He frowns at me, his body rumbling with aggravation. It makes me glower at him, ready to beat him back into place if he wants that retaliation. “You wanna do this with me?” Still he frowns, flicking his eyes between me and Nate. It’s enough for me to shove him again, reminding him who has control here.

  It’s not my fucking father, that’s for damn sure.

  He continues glowering until I see him give up. His head drops a little, his feet backing away a few steps towards the door. Whether it’s out of respect or the fact that there are two of us here to fight against, I don’t care. He’ll do as he’s fucking told. I can keep him safe and alive that way, protect him.

  A noise echoes at me from across the room, making me spin on my heel and look down through the space. She’s standing there by the bottom of the lounge, the oversized blue tracksuit drowning her small form as she cowers and grabs at the stair rail. I scowl in response, wondering what the hell to do with Josh in the vicinity. And then there’s a split second when I see a spark of tenacity threaten. It rises in her whole frame, making me question what the fuck she thinks she’s about to do with three men in her path. Her eyes shift from mine towards the door behind me, a half step forward joining the thought.

  Josh is suddenly by my side, his body pushing past me slightly, and I watch her body slump in defeat as she realises her fate. Good. She’d be fucking dense to try running here.

  “Who’s this?” Nate asks, a puff of smoke clouding the space around him.

  “Yeah, who is this?” Josh asks, too, charm pouring from his lips as he walks in her direction. “New plaything?”

  I watch Josh going to her, her frame edging away towards the wall as he goes, and roll my dice in annoyance. Nate stands up and comes to my side.

  “Debt,” I reply, backing towards the dining table and lifting the lid on the laptop.

  “Where from?” Nate asks, turning to face me. I don’t look at him. It’s fuck all to do with either of them.

  “It’s personal.” I flick through the numbers again, ignoring her and trying to find the missing two million. “The money, Nate. Where is it?”

  “Switched to Geneva, through Columbia.”

  She squeals suddenly, making me look over my shoulder at what’s happening. Josh is attempting to cajole her to the seating, all the time defending himself as she bats him away. Why the hell he’s behaving so gentlemanly is beyond me. He takes women as quickly as the rest of us do, no thought for their comfort.

  Eventually, she gets partly dragged to the seating, him smiling the entire time in the hope that he can get in her pussy if I let him.

  I won’t, not this time.

  “Quinn?” My name trembles from her lips as she curls her body up into the white couch. I don’t answer. I’m not here to make her feel comforted. She probably thinks the three of us are going to enjoy her for a while. And while that’s not fucking happening for anyone but me, I like the sense of fear she’s emitting. It arouses me, her innocence mingling with my lacking morals. She’s pretty in this guise, small and weak, and fucking distracting me from the task at hand—money.

  The door knocks sometime later, Maria coming in with trays of food for our lunch and breaking my quiet stare at Emily. She walks straight through to the main table, no speaking as she goes like a good servant. She’s been here long enough to know how to serve me. Quietly. Like a fucking mouse who’s never seen.

  “You had enough?” Nate asks, his fingers putting paperwork into folders as I keep looking though more documents.

  “Yeah.” I flick my eyes back to Emily to see her still curled up as she fiddles with the bottom of her hoodie and tries to avoid Josh’s eyes. He’s been interrogating her about where she’s from, who she is. She's looked like a deer caught in the cross-hairs for most of it. Every time she lets her shoulders relax, he takes another shot at her. Luckily for her, she’s kept her mouth shut for most of it, the occasional look at me for guidance on what she should say. She’s had nothing in response to help. “For now—we’ll do it again next week.”

  It’s been interesting watching her deny him everything he usually gets so easily. Amusing even. I expected her to be squealing and trying to back away from him, trying to run again maybe, but she’s been quiet and subservient after the initial look of terror. Whether that’s through intelligence or fear I don’t know, but it’s shown that she’s learnt her place here.

  I close the laptop and wander over to the table, grabbing a bread roll and tearing some off.

  “You want some food, dirty girl?” I ask, pulling out a chair. Her eyes fly to mine, her fingers instantly stopping fiddling at the hem of her top. Nate is silent as he comes to the table.

  “Dirty girl? That’s not nice, brother,” Josh says. “Her name’s Emily.”

  I smirk at him then look back at her, amused at his manouvering around her. He’s always been good at that, at least. If there’s one man on this planet who can get a woman to spread her legs through charm alone, it’s Josh.

  She nods, her body hitching itself to stand. I throw some of the roll at her before she gets a chance to move. I didn’t say she could eat at the table with us. She’ll stay there. Pick at whatever offering I give her.

  “Quinn,” Nathan says, contempt heavy in his tone. Fuck him and his sensibilities. I arch a brow, shutting his mouth before he opens it any more. He knows better, and what does he think this is? Marriage plans?

  Dick.

  We eat after that, Josh eventually leaving her side to join us and dive into Maria’s home cooked meals. They’re the only ones any of us ever get. It’s normally elite restaurants, delivering precise plates of no fucking food at all. It reminds me of our youth as we eat and talk, the atmosphere becoming more comfortable than it has for a while between us all.

  “Seriously, though, what are you doing about Mother?” Nate asks.

  “What the fuck do you want me to do, Nathan?”

  “I don’t know, but she’s not right, Quinn. There’s insane and then there’s…” I glower at him, cutting the conversation dead and flicking my eyes to Emily. He looks at her as if he’s forgotten she’s here. Josh hasn’t; he’s spent the entire time gazing at her and smiling. A predator waiting for his moment. Well, he won’t fucking get it with her.

  “Just leave it, Nate.” I turn in my chair, focusing myself on her fidgeting as she cowers into the seat looking small and appealing. It stirs my dick. “It’s time for you two to leave,” I say, getting up and grabbing at a plate. “I’ve got things to do.” Like fucking into this debt that needs paying back.

  I start layering some meat onto the plate, another half eaten bread roll joining it.

  “What about something to do then, Quinn?” Josh asks, his chair scraping my polished floors.

  I sigh and look back at him, wondering where the hell I can place him. Nate gets up, too. It makes me look between the two of them, noting the family resemblance
and smiling at it. Tall, broad, dark hair, blue eyes. One cut sharply, the other softer in his look but no less threatening because of it. I don’t know if it’s the family reminiscing, or the fact that dirty girl is screwing with my mind, but Josh is right. Regardless of me not wanting him anywhere near us, he is a part of this, and if something should happen to either Nate or myself, what then?

  “I’ll think about it, Josh. Find something.” He looks like the cat that got the fucking cream, his smile widening into the same one he gives my father as he begins to leave the table. “As long as you both get the fuck out of my house now.”

  Nathan raises his brow at me as he picks up his bags, tossing his napkin down.

  “You sure?” he asks. No, I’m not sure, but something has to change.

  It’s a constant question from Josh’s mouth lately, and while it might piss me off, it’s also something that needs dealing with. He’s not a child anymore, and this business is getting deeper and thicker into criminality with each passing year. He wants to be part of it, he can be. I just need to work out where. Find something safe for him to do. Safe isn’t a concept we’ve lived in these past ten years. It could be a damn sight safer, though, if the right fucking players took over in the right places.

  The closing door behind them signals the beginning of something more interesting, especially for my dick. I walk over to Emily, a plate of food in my hand and a glass of wine in the other.

  “Get up,” I snap, already thinking about the feel of her pussy around me. Her throat might have been good, but it’s nothing compared to what’s between her thighs.

  She moves as quietly as she has been sitting, gently placing her feet onto the floor and fiddling with her outfit again. I look her over, enjoying the way she tucks her hair behind her ears, attempting some kind of perfection in this fucked up world she’s in.

  “You clean?” I fucking hope she is, not that I give too much of a damn if she is or not for what I’ve got planned. She wrings her fingers and nods.

  “Yes. Uh, thank you for the clothes.” She needn’t thank me. I just don’t want the stench of vomit invading my nostrils again while I fuck her. “And for letting me out of…” She fumbles around the rest of the words, muttering them. Maybe she said dungeon. I don’t know, or care.

  “Come upstairs,” I call back to her. Nothing happens as I get to the bottom of them, and I turn back, catching her as she spins her head back from the door to me. “Try running, Emily. Give that shit a go.” I keep walking away, climbing the stairs and looking down at her. “You’re in my estate on the outskirts of Chicago. Guards patrol the grounds, three of them with dogs. All of them armed.” She stares at me, shock all over her flawless fucking face. “Didn’t realise?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Well, you are. It’s a long way home, Emily. That’s if you can get past my men first.”

  She frowns at that, and eventually I hear her feet moving to follow.

  “Were those men your family?” she asks, barely any volume in her voice, as I turn into a bedroom.

  I place the food and drink down on the mahogany table by the chair and walk towards the windows, closing the curtains.

  “That’s not relevant to you.”

  The swish of the dark blue fabric instantly blackens the room. So I walk to the lamps and switch them on one by one, uninterested in anything but what this dirty girl can do for me in the next hour before I have to leave.

  “You can stay in here while you’re with me,” I say, wandering back to the chair and getting my dice out of my pocket. She doesn’t say anything as I sit. No thank you or appreciation. She’s probably right not to. Nothing is going to be nice about her stay, other than orgasms if I can be bothered to ensure she gets some. “Take the clothes off, dirty girl.” She hovers just in front of the doorway, barely moving short of the twisting hands in her grip. “You can do this the easy way or the hard way, Emily. But you should know from last night that the hard way hurts far more.” I stare at her over my shoulder, the roll of my dice easing around my hand. “You might even pick the right number if you’re lucky, get a chance at what you want.”

  Her feet move after that, eyes narrowed as that option presents itself, and her fingers slowly reach for the hem of her top.

  Clever girl.

  Chapter Twelve

  What I want is to get out of here. Although, now I know I’m in America, I’m not even sure how I’ll get back home. How did he even do that?

  My fingers stall as I raise the hem of the sweatshirt. It drowns my frame, keeping me hidden and safe. It’s been the only shred of comfort since this all started. That and the few morsels of bread that I’ve been allowed. I’ve kept half an eye on the plate of food Quinn brought up with him. My hunger dominates my body. That and the fear of what will come next.

  I force my attention back to Quinn, who’s looking at me expectantly, his hand rolling those dice as if they hold all the answers in the world. My arms cross over my stomach and pull the top over my head. I’m naked under the top and trousers. Quinn might have been kind enough to leave them for me, but he didn’t go so far as to make me comfortable.

  My boobs bounce free, and I drop the sweatshirt on the floor.

  “All of your clothes. I won’t ask again.”

  I wiggle my hips, and the loose-fitting bottoms crumple in a heap at my feet before I step out of them and wait for my next command.

  It doesn’t come. Quinn sits and looks me up and down like one might survey an object before buying. I suppose in his mind, all I am is an object. A possession for him to use as he sees fit. One that owes him one hundred thousand pounds.

  My eyes flick around the room. Plush carpet supports my feet, immaculate décor, the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. It’s a far cry from the room I was in for my last experience with Quinn. It was easy to see him for the vile monster he is in the dark. Here, I can see his strong jaw and handsome face. It’s like the first night all over again. Except for the wining and dining.

  “I’m ready for you to work some of that debt off now, dirty girl.”

  My legs turn to mush, freezing me on the spot.

  “What… what do you want me to do?” I know it’s a stupid question.

  “Spread your pretty legs like you did on Friday and show me how much that pussy’s worth.”

  I drop my eyes down to my hands, twisting them together as I stand motionless. Emotion clogs my throat at the thought of having sex with him again. I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this. “The dice… you said I could…”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He storms across the room and smacks me across the cheek. The pain flares across my face and shocks me into awareness.

  Quinn’s lips smash into mine, and his body crowds me back against the wall. His hands roam my curves before pinning my arms above my head. The material of his suit rubs against my nipples, sending sparks of awareness through my system.

  “I warned you, Emily. The easy way or the hard way. I’ll enjoy both.” He spins me around and shoves me against the wall as he did downstairs, kicking my legs wider and pulling my arm up behind my back.

  His finger trails down my spine, so softly it betrays the rest of his actions. My body tenses as he follows lower and lower until his finger is resting at the crease of my bum.

  “I’m going to enjoy taking your ass.” He smacks my bum with three quick swats, distracting my mind from his words.

  I brace for another volley, but his lips trail across my shoulders and up to my ear. Each kiss lessens the pain and discomfort I’m suffering and turns it into a form of pleasure, a whimper bubbling from the back of my throat.

  His arm reaches around, and he rubs my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I want to hate his treatment. I want to feel repulsed by him. But I don’t. And it's that knowledge that turns my stomach more than the position I’m in.

  Quinn’s fingers move to my core, eagerly thrusting inside of me.

  “Wet for me already?”


  I keep quiet, thinking of anything but what his fingers are doing to me. It’s a replay of downstairs. His talented fingers play me like a puppet.

  “You’ll cry out for me this time, Emily. When your cunt squeezes my cock, I want to hear you.”

  I bite my lip in defiance, but it doesn’t stop him. He releases my arm, and I feel him loosening his belt and trousers. He pushes his hard cock between my spread legs and then forces my arms to brace against the wall.

  He grunts as he forces himself inside of me, his cock stretching me, filling me completely. It knocks the air from my lungs, and I jolt forward. He’s not holding me close to him. Instead, his fingers grip my hips as he draws up and thrusts back. His movements are jerky and harsh, but that doesn’t make it any less pleasurable. I feel myself growing softer for him, enjoying the feel of his cock inside of me. It’s humiliating how I respond to him. I never had sex like this in the past. Rough and urgent. The question of consent doesn’t bother Quinn, and more alarmingly, I don’t seem to have the trouble with it I wish I did.

  “A few fucks in and you’re dribbling pussy juice all over my cock,” Quinn pants, but doesn’t still his punishing rhythm.

  Heat rises in my body, spreading through my limbs as his cock continues to impale me. It’s brutal and raw, and I like it. I gasp, trying to gain control over myself and the climax building in my body.

  He shifts his stance, hitting deeper inside of me, and I can’t stop the gasp that echoes in the room.

  “You want more, dirty girl?”

  It’s like I set Quinn a challenge. He fucks me so hard I’m sure I’ll have bruises on my hips, but I can feel how easily he slips inside of me, how wet I am at his treatment of me. All my muscles begin to contract, and my toes curl into the carpet as a sheen of sweat breaks over my skin. Arching my back, I let my body take over and hear a moan of pleasure from Quinn. He moves one of his hands and plants it on the centre of my back, forcing me forward even more and changing the angle again.