But Hyde’s power wasn’t what bothered her most. No, watching Mitchell change because of a woman other than Jolie-herself stung.
“We can talk about this later, Carter.”
“No, we can talk about this now!”
“That’s a shame. I thought we might be able to meet somewhere more . . . comfortable.”
“Talk. Now.”
“Okay.” She sighed and considered how much she could tell him. “Yes, I work with Mitchell. Yes, he suffers from the same illness that Eden does. And, no, he doesn’t know about the medicine either.”
His glare lessened as she came clean. Clean-ish. “So why does she keep going to him?”
“I don’t know. It was probably some weird sort of coincidence. It’s nothing to worry about.”
As his eyes narrowed, she realized why he was so angry. “Are you jealous, Carter?”
He didn’t respond.
“You don’t need to be jealous, Carter. Mitchell doesn’t do relationships. If she hasn’t put out by now, he’s moved on. Frankly, even if she has put out, he’s moved on. Trust me.” She wondered if he’d buy that. It was something she’d believed for years. And then Eden had come along.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said. “I want to quit.”
Jolie looked at the poor, naïve little hottie in front of her, his eyebrows all squished up in confusion. She stood, went to the door, and flipped the dead-bolt. Pulling the curtain panels across the glass walls, she put on her mask of seduction. It would work on him, it always did.
“Carter,” she purred. “You can’t quit. I need you. We need you.”
His eyes roamed over her, filling with a different kind of need, but his head kept up its shake. “No, I can’t. I saw her change last night. I saw her change, Jolie! I know I said I would help, but seeing her like that . . . She’s a good person, Jolie. That was someone totally different.”
Hips swaying, Jolie approached him. “She’s a good person because we make her that way, babe.” She pulled up his t-shirt. He didn’t resist, lifting his arms from his sides to help her. “That’s the only reason, you know.” She undid his belt and slid her hands onto his hips, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs. “And I think you’re amazing. I don’t want you to go away. What would I do without you?” She ignored the “no” that was apparent on his face, instead focusing on the “hell-yes” his cock was showing her. And that was all before she’d removed a stitch of her own clothing.
“I’m not an idiot, Jolie. I think you’ll be just fine without me.” While the look in his eyes surprised her, his words stunned her.
Damn it to hell, am I losing all my charm? “If you want me, Carter, you need to act now. In about another twenty minutes, Mitchell will be back.” She took his hands and guided them under her skirt to her ass. “And I’ll have to put all of this away.”
“You think you can just screw me and I’ll do whatever you tell me to do?” His grip tightened, pulling her closer. But she wasn’t winning. He looked angry, nothing like the puppy dog he usually was.
Sighing, she pulled back slightly and reassessed the game-plan that had always worked with him. “Of course not. I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. And making love with you has nothing to do with that.” She looked up and blinked, hoping to locate a few convincing tears. “I can’t believe you would even think I would do that to you.”
He pushed her away and yanked up his pants. “No, I’m out. I gave her the medicine, called you so you could take over, did everything you asked me to. But I’m done. That stuff isn’t even working anymore! She’s changing. She’s different now. And last night was frigging horrible, Jolie. Seeing her like that. She needs to get checked into that clinic.”
Not ‘that clinic’, Carter. ‘The Clinic’—capital ‘T’, capital ‘C’.
“They can give her more medicine or try something else,” he said. “I don’t know what to do for her anymore. She doesn’t even want my help. She wants his.”
“He can’t do what you can do for her. He doesn’t know what you know. He can’t know what you know. Do you understand, Carter?” She tried to keep her voice low and seductive while she laid down the threat. “You cannot tell him anything. Or the whole thing falls apart, and Eden will end up hurt.” But if the truth came out, Eden wouldn’t be the only one. They were all too mixed up in The Clinic’s operation to come out of it unscathed.
Jolie held his jaw and kissed him hard. He held out for a few seconds with a feeble effort to turn his head away from her. He started verbally protesting again when she moved her mouth to his neck, then his chest.
“Carter, stop talking. I get it. You don’t want to be part of this anymore. But you absolutely cannot tell either of them anything. Okay? We can figure something out.” As her mouth traveled lower, she glanced down at the carpeted floor and cringed, wondering how badly it would scrape her knees.
She had twenty minutes to change his mind.
§ § §
Standing on Mitch’s front stoop, her hand aching from Carter’s grip, Eden felt so stupid. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know something was going on. Something they weren’t invited to. Spotlights shone into the front garden, lighting the walkway and doorstep she’d so often woken up on. Expensive cars lined the driveway, stuffed in like jewels in a . . . whatever the rich stored their jewels in. They’d had to park Carter’s seven-year-old Cherokee halfway down the block, right behind a catering van. Yeah, that should have been her first clue.
It was too late now. She’d spent the last day and a half—ever since she woke up with wrists still stinging from the handcuffs and a best friend who wouldn’t make eye contact with her—begging him to tell her what Chastity had been like. He’d told her enough to leave her wishing she could live in a cave for the rest of her miserable existence. But she knew he was holding back. She just didn’t know what he was keeping from her. Something she’d done or something worse—like how he felt about the situation. So when she’d threatened to go to Mitch for some straight answers, she’d been shocked when Carter agreed. The expression on his face—one of disappointment, defeat—was something she’d never wanted to see, but had always known was coming.
She wondered if part of the reason he was holding her hand so tightly to his side was so that he wouldn’t have to look her in the eyes. “We should go. He’s obviously having some kind of shin-dig. He’s not going to be able to talk to us.”
Recently-Turned-Mute Man said nothing as he drummed his fist on the door.
“This was a bad idea. I was bluffing. Please, let’s go—”
The door swung open and a smiling Jolie, dressed in a gorgeous emerald-green cocktail dress became an unsmiling Jolie.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped. At least the dress was still nice.
Eden tried the mute thing Carter had perfected and just shrugged, her face heating up.
“He didn’t invite you, did he?” After a quick head shake from Eden, Jolie glanced behind her into the foyer. “You should have called first.”
“I tried. When he didn’t pick up, we thought he was avoiding our calls.”
With the mention of ‘we’, Jolie’s eyes drifted to Carter, flashed, rolled briefly, and then drifted down his body. Probably not to admire his jeans, t-shirt or tennis shoes. “Oh goody, and you brought a date.”
“We’ll go. Sorry,” Eden said. “Can you tell him that I need to speak with him as soon as the party’s over?” She tugged at Carter who seemed unable, or unwilling, to move.
“Jolie?” The door opened farther, revealing the host of the party they weren’t welcomed to. Mitch wore a suit and tie—all black. All amazing.
Suddenly feeling very warm and very frumpy, Eden barely caught the gasp that was heading up her throat and pulled harder on Carter’s arm. She needed to run for it before someone noticed her mouth watering.
Mitch turned to the party-crashers and sighed, his expression making Eden feel even smaller tha
n she already did. “I said Saturday night, not Friday.”
“I know. Sorry, we were just leaving.”
Carter held his ground, glaring. “She wants to talk to you.”
“I’m sure she wants a lot of things, but that has nothing to do with what she’ll get.”
“It can wait until tomorrow.” Eden’s sweaty palm slipped out of Carter’s.
Carter grabbed her forearm to stop her from fleeing. “No. It can’t.”
“Fine. Come in.” Mitch turned and walked deeper into the house. “But you can only have two hors d’oeuvres a piece. And keep your mitts off the shrimp puffs. They’re for my paying clients.”
Jolie begrudgingly stepped back to let them in. “You’re slightly underdressed, aren’t you?” She turned her back to them and caught up to Mitch’s retreating form, taking his arm and whispering in his ear.
As Carter dragged her inside, Eden glanced down to her black yoga pants and fitted t-shirt announcing she was an “Equality Fetishist”. Suddenly her favorite statement t-shirt wasn’t her favorite anymore. Fetishist? Really, Eden. You thought that would have been appropriate even if there hadn’t been a party? Around Mitch? She shook her head.
They strolled through small groups of people in their finery milling around the living room, discussing politics and functions Eden had never heard of. She was out of her element in an elemental way. With an occasional nod or comment to his guests, Mitch led the way through the house and out the French-doors to the backyard pool area. There were even more people outside, smoking and drinking. The kind of people who chuckle insincerely only when they deem it absolutely necessary. Carter nabbed a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing server and chugged it. The group of four walked past everyone, stopping in front of the pool house.
With a small push, Mitch released Jolie from his arm and aimed her at Carter. She didn’t look like she minded the pass-over. After a quick adjustment of her dress, she approached, stopping right in front of him.
“I’m supposed to keep you occupied. Carter, is it?”
Carter obviously appreciated the brunette’s beauty, his eyes traveling down her body, but he kept his grip on Eden. “I’m not leaving them alone.”
Jolie raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t bite. She’ll be fine.”
Sick of being spoken about like she wasn’t even there, Eden pried Carter’s hand off her arm. “You agreed to come here. So let me talk to him.”
“Which will give me a chance to get to know you,” Jolie said, smiling. But it looked forced.
Carter bit his lip, gave Eden a look of warning, and walked back to the party with Jolie. Eden watched Carter grab another glass of champagne as soon as he was within striking distance.
“Why are you here, Eden?”
She flinched at Mitch’s voice and turned toward him. “Carter brought me. Believe me, I don’t want to be here.”
“Then leave.”
“You are a wonderful host. Is this your M.O. with all your guests?”
“Just the ones—”
She cocked her head to the side. “The ones you’ve had your . . . junk in?”
“My junk?” Laughing, he scanned the crowd behind her. “No. There may be a few of those I’ve had my junk in who I haven’t kicked out yet. Though I try to keep my junk out of my business life. Thank you, by the way, for teaching me such a lovely expression.”
Eden regretted not grabbing a drink on the way over. “Carter’s not telling me everything . . . about what I did. Or what she did the other night.”
“So much for honesty in paradise, huh?”
“He’s honest. Just— He’s obviously struggling with the situation.”
“I love situational honesty.” He glanced down at her t-shirt, then kept his eyes put. “I also love fetishists. Equality?” He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
Eden wrapped her arms over her chest. “When the party is over, can we talk seriously? Carter’s not going to leave until I’m smiling. Although the chance of me smiling after talking to you is pretty slim.”
“I think I may have seen him smile at Chastity. Probably when she ripped off her top.” He ducked down to catch her eyes, which were currently staring at his feet. “He did tell you about that, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“That was my favorite part.”
She brought her chin up. “That’s great to hear, Mitch. Really. I couldn’t be happier for you. Please, tell me all about it. Tell me how amusing I am to you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“No, I mean it,” she challenged. “Tell me all about it. But skip the naughty parts.”
“What else is there?” His grin was wicked.
She growled inwardly. “I really don’t want to hear your opinion of my body. Do you think you can control yourself long enough to tell me what she’s like otherwise?”
“It’ll be tough.” He rolled his eyes at her glare. “Alright, funny girl. What else do you want to know?”
Would he finally give her some answers? “How did you know she would come out on Wednesday? How did you know multiples work like that?”
“I don’t. I have no idea how multiples work. But that doesn’t matter because you’re not a multiple.”
She blew out her breath. “How else can you explain it?”
Sighing, he looked at the party guests and then shook his head. “Not now.” He brushed her shoulder as he walked past her. “Come back tomorrow, and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”
She spun and jogged behind him. “That’s no answer. Tell me now.”
“Not yet, my dear. Enjoy the party. But be careful with the booze—you look like a light-weight.”
“What is this for you? A dance? One step forward, two steps back. Information doled out only when you’re in the mood?” No, that wasn’t good enough. Not now that she was sure he knew far more about this than anyone else, especially her. “Mitch, tell me now!”
As they neared the pool, she caught his arm. He flicked it out of her grasp. She stumbled sideways, caught her heel on the edge of a piece of flagstone, and felt herself lose contact with the ground. Sailing through space happened in slow-motion. Her hands clawed at nothing but air until her back hit the water. The last thing she saw before completely going under was Mitch’s surprised and amused expression.
Chlorine stung her eyes and nose as she righted her body, pushed off from the bottom and came back to the surface of the pool. She spit the water from her mouth and tossed her hair back. Everyone was staring.
I wonder if now is a necessary time to chuckle. Water dripped off her eyelashes, thankfully fogging the faces of the party guests.
§ § §
Mitch didn’t look at anyone but her, great guffaws coming from deep in his chest. By the time he’d stopped laughing, she’d swum all the way to the stairs in the shallow end.
He went into the pool house and grabbed a large, thick towel. When he returned, she was glaring at him from the top step, her t-shirt clinging to her breasts.
Handing the towel to her, he thought she looked like a wet dog. Like a gorgeous, wet dog. One he might cross the line into seriously sick fetish-territory with. “Nice night for a swim, but I thought you came to talk.”
“You mean you’ll talk to me now?” she grumbled, keeping her voice low. “Gee, and all I had to do was make a fool of myself. Funny, I thought I’d already done that by waking up on your doorstep and repeatedly begging for help. You’re a tough guy to impress.”
He thought about what he could tell her. No, she needed to see it to believe it. Eden wouldn’t be able to accept what she was unless she witnessed his transformation, saw something tangible, proof she could touch. Not that he’d actually let her touch Hyde—that would be tragic. But there was nothing he could say to make her understand. He could, however, give her just enough information to make absolutely sure she’d come back tomorrow night.
“Get dried up and . . . no chance you brought any extra clothing
, is there?”
“Yeah, because I always bring along a dress in the off-chance I fall into some asshole’s pool in the middle of a party I’m crashing.”
He smiled broadly and chastised, “Language, Eden, language.”
Hyde, an Urban Fantasy Page 15
