His sister also had a lot of chatter on the internet. Her chatrooms and forums were incredibly unnerving.
The girl was just as stunning as her brother: tall, dark-haired, and she had the same blue-gray eyes that looked like they were constantly trying to figure out how the entire world worked. Where Stark looked like a younger version of the man he was now, minus all the ink and bulk, his sister looked frail and almost waifish. She looked like prey.
I sucked in a breath as I kept scrolling, each headline screaming something worse than the one before. Geneva Stark was killed in a horrific chemical explosion at the lab where she worked. There was a lot of speculation that the explosion happened from the inside to cover up some kind of top secret research and development program. Conroy Stark was arrested for treason when he was accused of trading information on the US’s nuclear program with a foreign intelligence officer. They called him a traitor and a spy. The man was still locked up, and to this day was screaming that he’d been set-up and falsely accused. He swore up one side and down the other he didn’t have anything to do with government secrets and claimed that US intelligence wanted his son, that they had killed his wife to get their hands on young Snowden. It sounded like the ravings of a lunatic, but considering how leery Stark was of any kind of government official, I wondered if there was more to it than the rantings of a guilty man.
The worst were the headlines about Savina. She had risen to fame in the orchestral world. She toured and played for the rich and famous. Somewhere along the line, she also picked up more than one stalker. There was all kinds of press about how scared she was, how she considered quitting performing to go into hiding. There were paparazzi shots of the girl looking terrified, her face covered and her body hunched over. In the background of all those pictures was a furious looking Stark. He was trying to shield her from the lights and from so much more.
I wasn’t surprised at all when I found an article that had her obituary, which made me put a hand to my chest and blink back a hot rush of moisture that pressed at the back of my eyes. She couldn’t take the pressure or the constant threats. She couldn’t handle the loss of her mother and her father going to jail. The media was even more in her face after that. The demands of fame and fortune broke her. She took her own life, and the final picture was one of Stark, dressed in a somber, black suit as he threw a handful of dirt into a freshly dug grave. He looked tortured and turned inside out. His pain was obvious in every pixel of the grainy black and white photo. I could feel it, and I hated that.
The door opened with a swoosh and he strode through it looking far more composed than he had when he walked out. I shut the computer and propped a hand on my fist as I watched him walk across the room. He still looked tired, but he was always quick. All it took was a glance at me and at my closed laptop for him to put two and two together. He sighed as he made his way over to where I was leaning against the counter, fingers tapping on the back of the computer.
“Whatever you think you know, you don’t.” His voice was scratchy and rough.
I lifted an eyebrow and cocked my head to the side. “Is that so?”
He sighed again and dipped his chin in a slight nod. “Google barely scratches the surface. Trust me, you don’t want the real story. You don’t want anything to weigh you down, and every single part that fills in the blanks is heavy as hell.”
I stared at him silently as I worked through the fact that I kind of wanted some of that weight. He was carrying it all, and that had to be exhausting, even with his broad shoulders and strong back. He saved me when he didn’t want to. The least I could do was take some of that burden off him if he wanted to hand it over.
“I let you see a lot of the baggage I carry around with me, Stark. I’m here if you ever decide you want to hand off some of yours.” I couldn’t believe I was offering to take him on, but I really wanted to. In more ways than one. Snowden Stark was the first person in forever who lingered. I was very good at shaking off anyone who seemed like they were trying to get their hooks into me. With this man, I was thoroughly caught and not doing a very good job of wiggling free.
He smirked at me and crossed his arms over his chest. I tried not to ogle the way his muscles bulged and stretched the fabric of his shirt. “I never expected you to be sweet, Noe Lee. Angry, defiant, feisty, and rude. Those I’m prepared for, but sweet is a nice surprise.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “You haven’t given me a lot of reason to be sweet, Snowden.”
He grunted and shifted his gaze away from mine. “You’re right. I’ll have to work on that. I’m not really a guy who brings out the best in others. I’m not exactly personable.”
I slid around the edge of the counter so I was standing directly in front of him. The heat from his body radiated into mine, and it made my breath shudder. The current that pulsed between us had a life of its own as it sparked and popped with electricity that I swore I could almost see and smell.
“You’re challenging, Stark. Nothing wrong with that. The things we have to work for are the things we appreciate the most. Nothing that’s handed over without some kind of fight is worth holding onto.” I’d learned that each time I’d had to make a new life for myself. Each time it had pulled me away from everything I’d ever known. The first time, I’d had to fight to get free from the life I’d been forced into. The second time, I’d had to fight to stay free of the life I’d known. Now, I was fighting for a life that meant something, one that had value and purpose. He was going to be all kinds of effort and exertion. Something told me he was worth every single second of the effort.
“Not everyone likes a challenge.” His tone was dry but his eyes were watchful and alert. The pulse at the base of his throat leapt under his tattooed skin because he was a man and not a machine, no matter how hard he tried to fight it and cover it up.
I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach that throbbing vein. I put my fingers over the tender spot and felt his heart race as I leaned closer, eyes locked on his. He could crush me, literally and figuratively, but I trusted him not to. “I do. I thrive on tackling a challenge. The bigger, the better.”
His teeth flashed white and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave me the first real smile I’d ever seen on his harshly hewn face. It softened him, made him look younger and less world weary. His smile was irresistible and it sealed the deal for me. If he could smile like that when I was sweet, then I would make an effort to be sweet more often, and if I couldn’t stick to that plan, then I was just going to kiss the shit out of him every chance I got. I saw his smile brighten and his eyes widen as I threw my much smaller body into his. It was like hitting a wall. I felt the impact vibrate all the way down to my toes. I also felt my heart rate kick up and my nipples tighten as I pressed into the solid strength of his chest.
I had to stretch to get my arms around his neck, and we both gave a quiet groan as the move plastered my entire front to his. Nothing would move him if he didn’t want to be moved, but he lowered his head so I could reach his mouth. He tasted like coffee and sleepiness. His stubble was rough against my chin and fingertips, and I used a finger to trace his chiseled jaw line. I’d never been with anyone who was so overtly masculine before. I’d also never kissed anyone who wore glasses. The way they fogged up and tilted slightly to the side was fucking adorable and had me doing my best to shove my tongue down his throat even though he was taking things nice and easy.
There were no grabbing hands and aggressive teeth with Snowden Stark. The man kissed like he did everything else, deliberate, thorough, slow, and thoughtful. He was turning my head inside out as he traced the curve of my lips with the tip of his tongue, savoring every inch of my mouth. He lifted a hand so he could circle one of my wrists where it was propped up on his shoulder. His thumb gently moved in tiny circles over the abused skin and his simple caress turned my knees to water. I dug my fingers into the back of his neck, nails dragging through his short hair. I enjoyed the prick
le of it against my fingertips and the brush of it against my palm.
His free hand smoothed over the curve of my hip and trailed to my backside so he could palm my ass. Everything about him was oversized. I’d never felt more feminine or breakable than I did under his hands. It made me shiver and kiss him even harder. He made a noise as I nipped at his lower lip with my teeth, but relented when I soothed the bite with a flick of my tongue that demanded he let me inside the warm cavern of his mouth. He complied with a soft chuckle that I felt between my legs. I shifted anxiously on my toes as my center throbbed and pressed involuntarily against the rigid length that was making itself known against my stomach. He was hot and huge. Like seriously, the thing was intimidating on its own without the rest of him that loomed in front of me.
Twining and twisting my tongue around the heat of his, I gasped into his mouth when I felt his other hand land on my ass. He used his hold to hoist me up as if I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his lean waist and circled his neck in a death grip. I didn’t think he was going to drop me, but if he suddenly realized we were the worst two people in the world to be getting all tangled up in one another, he might. The boy was nothing if not logical, and eventually he was going to remember that we were a bad idea, nothing short of a bona fide disaster waiting to happen. For now, he kissed me back with as much enthusiasm as I had while I tried to devour him.
I knew what it was like to be hungry, so hungry you thought you might starve. When you finally got a bite, no matter how big or small it was, you inhaled it like you might never eat again. That’s what I was doing with Stark. I was taking as much as I could, since I didn’t know if I was ever going to get another taste.
I moaned and pressed my breasts into his chest when he used his hold on my hips to grind my soft, wet center against that straining erection that was like a steel pole between us. The friction made me squirm and had my thighs quivering. I couldn’t remember ever being this sensitive and this quick to turn liquid and ready before. That ever-present electrical current wrapped around every nerve pulsed with need. I could feel his heart pounding and the iron control he was exerting as he accepted what I gave but made no demands of his own. I wiggled in his hands, pressing closer, grinding down on his cock in frustration. I wanted the clothes between us to be gone, and I wanted him to want me with the same kind of uncontrolled fierceness I had for him. He made me reckless and it bothered me that he handled me so carefully.
I dragged my rough and uneven nails down the side of his neck and swallowed the moan that vibrated against my lips. I felt his fingers press into my backside and his chest rise and fall like he was struggling to breathe. He was on the edge and it wouldn’t take much to push him over. I pulled back a little bit so we were eye to eye, considering each other as we panted and pressed into one another. I was planning my attack. I wanted to push him. I wanted to prod him until he short-circuited like Booker warned me he would.
I never got the chance. As soon as we came up for air, his phone started to ring in his back pocket and he carefully set me down on my feet, hands lifting to my waist and setting me back a safe distance. He looked at his phone and told me he had to take the call, and although he didn’t tell me who had interrupted us, I saw Nassir’s face flash on the screen.
I rubbed my fingers over my swollen mouth and across the tender spots on my face where his whiskers had rubbed my skin raw. “I told you I could be sweet.” I smirked up at him and was surprised when he tossed back his head and let out a rusty, cracked laugh.
When he looked back at me, his eyes were glimmering with promise and so much potential for more unexpected moments of sweetness that it stole my breath.
“No one has ever been sweeter.”
He said it like he meant it and I knew I was in trouble. I didn’t have any room for him and his secrets, but somehow, I was already clearing space. Something told me I was going to have to get rid of everything that cluttered up my insides because Snowden Stark was about to fill up every nook and cranny. He would weigh me down more than any of the baggage from my past ever could. I knew that was going to be okay, that together we both would be okay.
Stark
A client who had a standing date with one of Nassir’s working girls claimed he was being blackmailed by the escort. He was up in arms because the girl had threatened to out the John to his wife and the rest of his very conservative family. The man claimed she demanded twenty thousand dollars in cash and had already sent a threatening text message to the man’s spouse that had her questioning where he spent his Wednesday nights. Nassir was calling bullshit on the man’s story. His girls had rules, and they knew not to break them if they wanted to stay on the Devil’s good side and on his very lucrative payroll. He kept them safe. He vetted all the clients and wouldn’t let anyone near his business unless they knew how to keep quiet and treat the girls well. He didn’t tolerate any kind of nonsense, and his wife was even more fiercely protective of the women who earned their living in such a timeless and dangerous way. She didn’t tolerate any disrespect when it came to the working girls, and it was no surprise that Nassir was on the warpath if Keelyn was upset. He moved mountains and leveled entire cities to make things right for his woman. She was the only thing on Earth he cared about more than power and control.
I told the man who pulled my strings that I would run a background check on the John, pick through his finances, and trace where the text to the wife originated. I also promised to dig up whatever I could on the hooker. I refrained from calling her that because I didn’t have the time or the patience for a lecture on how people did what they had to do to survive in the Point, and no one should judge those choices. It was a common refrain in this city. People were always something more than a simple label. There was always a story behind how they had earned that title, but I wasn’t the kind of guy who ever cared about the story. Probably because I spent so much of my time trying to forget my own. I wanted to be the big, broody guy who was good with computers, nothing more and nothing less. Simple. However, since I’d started tangling with Noe, it was clear some stories couldn’t remain unspoken. Sometimes they were told without words. History and memories were shared through unblinking looks, soft touches, and surprising sweetness. She’d barely scratched the surface of where I’d been or what I’d done, but she was a girl who had the skills to look deeper, unearthing the truth. I couldn’t be anything but who I was with her, because she was the one person who could uncover the lies I’d been living for so long.
When I made my way back into the borrowed loft, she was on the computer again and didn’t bother to look up when I entered. She was scowling at something on the screen, her eyes flicking in my direction as I got closer.
“The motel where Goddard’s goons held me just burned to the ground. It’s all over the local news. Three people died because the fire suppression system didn’t come on—shocker—and because of those fucking bars on the windows. He’s covering his tracks. He even released a statement saying the loss of life is a tragedy and his heart goes out to the victims’ families. He’s such a prick. He followed that garbage up with the fact that losing such a disreputable business is no great loss to the community.” Her mouth was pulled into a furious, tight line and her dark eyes were alight with anger. “I can’t believe anyone re-elected him.”
I braced my hands on the edge of the marble counter and looked at her with grim determination. “That’s why we have to stop him.”
She let out a bitter laugh and pushed the red part of her hair off her forehead. “I’m all atwitter with anticipation to hear exactly how you plan to do that, Stark. The more I think about it, the more he seems untouchable. The man killed three innocent people to cover up the fact he kidnapped me. He’s ruthless.”
“He’s greedy. He wants to keep his standing in the community, his good name. He wants to keep his title and his money. But more than any of that, he wants to keep his secrets. We’re going to take each and every one of those things from him. We’re goi
ng to burn his entire world from the inside out.” My hands curled into fists on top of the marble; her eyes widened a fraction as she stared at me. My anger was happy to finally have a clear target, a pointed direction to blow. The heated vengeance wasn’t curling wildly and furiously around everything in my path anymore. It had a goal, a purpose, and I no longer felt like I needed to get a grip on it. I wanted to let it run wild and see what it would do.
“How?” The word escaped on a breath, and I couldn’t blame her for needing details and not having blind faith in my ability to come through for her. I’d already let her down.
I cocked my head to the side and watched her carefully as I told her, “You know what’s worse than death for a man like Goddard?” She shook her head, eyes curious, mouth still frowning and unsure. “The worst thing a man like Goddard can imagine is being invisible, being irrelevant. It’s torture for a man like him not to have the world falling at his feet, to have everything he’s ever wanted within reach but not able to touch any of it. We’re going to leave the walls of his empire standing but turn everything on the inside to ash. We’re going to kill him . . . digitally.” We were going to wipe any trace of the man off the face of the Earth but leave the old, tired, helpless vessel afloat in his sea of corruption, constantly searching for a life raft from his previous conquests but unable to get a hold on any of them.
She blinked at me for a second and then cocked her head to the opposite side of mine. “Like steal his identity?”
Dignity (The Breaking Point Book 2) Page 10
