by K. Webster
His fingers twist in my hair, and he yanks, turning my head so that my cheek rests on the cool surface. The sound of his belt coming undone and then the zipper going down makes me shiver. He manages to undress enough to pull his dick out and slaps it against my ass. I can’t see my reflection—thank god for that since this dress is frightening to look at—but I imagine he’s enjoying seeing me at his mercy. The groan that escapes him as he pushes into me with one thrust is empowering.
I drive this man crazy.
Me.
Not anyone else.
Just me.
“Unngh,” I garble out, unable to form words or complete thoughts.
He barks out a harsh laugh, his thrusting hard and nearly painful. All I can do is hold on while he takes everything I have to offer. From this angle and at the forceful way with which he fucks into me, I lose all control with a yelp of his name. As I shudder with pleasure, he yanks out of me. Hot come splatters on my ass, claiming me as his.
“Oh no,” he rumbles as he unzips my dress. “I guess I’ll need to use this lovely dress to clean up the mess I made, baby.”
I hear the telltale sign of pictures being taken from his phone which causes a thrill to shoot through me. He then tugs the material down on the dress and uses it to swipe away his come. Once he’s satisfied, he strips it the rest of the way off me before pulling my panties back into place.
“You could go just like this,” he offers, his large palms roaming up my bare ribs. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“You and half of New York.” I reach over to grab the pretty black dress. “What should I name my yacht, fiancé?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re going to name a boat too?”
“Naming boats is a thing,” I argue. “How about ‘Win’s Sugar Baby’?”
“How about no.”
I laugh as I slide on the dress. He zips me into it. His eyes narrow as he drinks in my appearance. Because I’m a brat, I spin around so he can admire the whole thing.
“Also a no,” he growls, reaching for the zipper.
He knows I look good in this dress and the spoiled boy doesn’t want anyone looking at what’s his.
“Too bad.” I smack his hand away. “I love it. I’m wearing this one.”
He gives my ass a squeeze. “Hurry and find some shoes to go with it before I change my mind.”
“Are you worried all the men we come across are going to try and steal your girlfriend away?” I taunt, grinning evilly at him.
“Not my girlfriend. And no.”
“So sure?”
“Let us not forget about the last man who tried it.”
I scowl at him. “What? What did you do?”
“Remember that twat at the bar who gave you his number?”
“Hot suited guy?”
His jaw clenches. “Wes. Unemployed now.”
“You’re evil, Winston Constantine.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, brat.”
My mind reels as I find a pair of shoes and Winston pays the bill. Winston does a great job of pretending he doesn’t care, but he does. He so does. It makes me want to sing it to him just to watch him deny it. I’m grinning by the time we make it to his car.
Not his car.
Perry’s car.
“No,” I groan. “Don’t make me ride in it.”
“You don’t have a choice, Cinderelliott. Get in.”
“Where’s Perry?”
“He Ubered home.”
“No.” I gasp, glaring at him.
“No,” he admits with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t allow him in one of those disease-infested death traps. Mother circled back in her car to fetch him. I’ll pick him up tomorrow.”
I climb into the ugly orange muscle car and wait for him to join me. Once inside, he doesn’t start the vehicle, just turns to look at me, intensity burning in his eyes.
“What?”
“I took care of it.”
“Took care of what?”
“The triplets.”
“Oh.” I shiver at the mention of their name. “How?”
“Let’s just say they got exactly what they deserve.”
Before he can start the car, I climb over the console, straddling his lap. My fingers tease at the hairs at his nape as my mouth finds his. We kiss with an urgency we haven’t had thus far in our bizarre relationship. I pour my gratefulness into the kiss. He returns it with vows to protect me no matter what. Neither of us have to speak, but I know.
He cares about me.
I’m more than an employee or a plaything.
I’m his.
“Win,” I whisper against his lips. “I lo—”
“Don’t.” He nips at my bottom lip, silencing me. “You don’t.”
“I do.”
“No, Cinderelliott, you don’t. You’re just infatuated. Thankful. But not that.”
“I’m not a child.” I glower at him.
“Your driver’s license proves otherwise.”
“I’m eighteen, dumbass.”
“Eighteen. Still a teenager.”
“A teenager your old ass is paying to fuck!”
“Exactly.” He grabs my hips and all but tosses me back into my seat. “We have an agreement. You please me, and I pay you.”
“Maybe I don’t like those terms anymore.”
“You don’t get to renegotiate a better deal,” he snaps back, rippling with anger. “Your college is paid for. I gave you a car. A fucking yacht. A whore apartment. Your bank account is loaded. I babysit your goddamn bird and employ you at my company. What more do you want from me?”
I swallow down the ball of emotion that now sits in my throat. “Everything.”
“Greedy fucking girl.”
He starts the loud engine, effectively ending the conversation. I buckle in and cross my arms over my chest, trying hard not to cry. I’m not crushing on him. It’s more than that, and he knows it. I certainly don’t feel things are one-sided either.
Winston Constantine is in denial.
One day he’s going to have to face the facts.
He’s falling for me and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it.
23
Winston
She’s insane.
There’s no way in hell she loves me. She can’t. This is our game. Our fucking fun. Not love. Love can’t exist in the Constantine world. That was proven at Dad’s funeral. The love that does exist is more of a bond by last name—a loyalty to blood.
Ash forgets she’s not the real Cinderella, and I’m most definitely not her Prince Charming.
She’s a fucking maid.
I’m CEO of a billion-dollar company. Bored but so fucking rich I can pay for the kinkiest of services. All of which she gladly signs up for as long as the money comes through.
This is a transaction.
So why in the hell are you trying so hard to convince yourself, dumbass?
I ignore the argument in my head. As much as my stupid heart likes the idea of keeping Ash in my world as more than a sexy playmate, I can’t. She’s a liability. A goddamn risk. The Morellis already know she’s something to me. It’s why we can never be more.
My skin tingles with a mixture of fury and confusion. I’m mad that she would try and toss out those words so carelessly.
Love.
Ridiculous.
She’s not in love with me. The girl has had all of one serious boyfriend. There’s no way she could even begin to understand what real love is.
And you can, Constantine?
My only witness to love is my parents. Dad adored our mother. He spoiled her with gifts and attention and praise. Protected her at all costs. Defended her if anyone stood against her. Supported her in all her endeavors. He gave her everything she could possibly want or need and so much more.
We don’t have that.
Liar.
I chance a glance at Ash. She’s still fucking pouting with her arms crossed over her chest. Of course she looks good en
ough to eat in her tiny black dress. Whatever shampoo they used on her at the salon is to fucking die for. I crave to yank her back into my lap, bury my nose in her silky tresses, and inhale her scent. She’s more addictive than those damn red gummy bears.
Her phone rings in her purse. She digs around and pulls it out to answer.
“Hey, Dad—”
Words are sucked out of her throat at whatever he says to her. Her palm goes to her mouth, covering it as though she’s shocked at what he has to say. She nods even though he can’t see her.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Love you too.”
As soon as she hangs up, she snaps her head my way. “Win, what did you do?”
“Regarding . . .”
“Don’t be dumb.” She smacks at my arm. “The triplets.”
“I said I took care of it.”
“You didn’t explain,” she huffs.
“They hurt you,” I growl, sounding more like my father than I care to admit. “And they had to pay for that.”
“I don’t know how you managed this, but Dad said Scout was in big trouble for driving under the influence. All of them sustained similar injuries to their knees from the crash.”
“They won’t be playing lacrosse.” I laugh, dark and cruel. “No Harvard. No lacrosse. No cars. No mommy to save them.”
She winces. “You did something to Manda?”
“Manda did it to herself. All I did was expose it. She’s going to have to answer for some surgeries gone wrong. It’ll keep her busy and bleeding money while her sons sit in fucking jail for a bit.”
“You did all this for me?”
I let out a derisive snort. “Don’t read into it, Cinderelliott.”
“Too late.” Her voice takes on a teasing lilt that makes my dick very, very hard. “You can’t deny it, Win. You loooooove me.”
“Oh, fuck off, Ash.”
She laughs and goddammit, I laugh too. After she digs around in her purse, she fishes out a bag from the candy store. As soon as she opens it and the car is filled with a familiar scent, I groan.
“Bought you a present, boyfriend.”
“I’m through with those things.”
“Liar. Open up.”
Annoyed, but not really able to deny them, I part my lips. She pushes a gummy bear into my mouth, her fingers exploring, just begging to get trapped between my teeth. I bite down, giving her what she wants. When I’m sure I’ve left an indentation in her flesh, I release her fingers and suck as she pulls them away. The gummy bear remains on my tongue mixed with her unique taste.
“I bought Caroline some of these too since you love them so much.” She puts one of the gummy bears in her mouth. I crave to stop at the next light, crash my lips to hers, and steal it right off her tongue.
“You bought my mother candy?”
“As a thank you. For the spa day.”
“I’m pretty sure it was meant to be a threaten-the-maid-away-from-her-rich-boy day, but whatever, Ash. You see things for what they’re not.”
She waves her middle finger in front of my face, and I have the urge to bite it. “Sure, it may have started that way, but I grew on her. I have that way about me.”
“No kidding,” I gripe. “It’s hard to get rid of you once you have your claws dug in.”
Ignoring me, she continues. “Besides, I figured her out.”
“This should be good. Please. Do tell how you figured my mother out. We’ve only been trying our entire lives.”
“Then it should be obvious to you.” She feeds me another delicious-as-fuck gummy bear. “She is like one of those crazed bears in the forest. Scary and imposing. Hackles always raised and claws bared.”
“I’m sure she’d love this comparison. Perhaps you should weave it into the conversation next time you see her.”
“Because she’s protecting her young,” she continues with a sigh. “She’s scary because she has to be. You Constantines may be terrifying bears—”
“Keaton says we’re lions,” I interject.
“Whatever. Big, scary beasts. Probably the highest on the food chain, yes?”
“Not probably. Most definitely.”
“Your arrogance is suffocating me. Can we open a window?” she deadpans and then shakes her head as though annoyed. “But it doesn’t mean you’re not hunted, Win. Everyone is out to get you. Like the Morellis or that stupid Meredith.”
Or whoever killed Dad.
I grit my teeth and nod. “So? They never succeed.”
They did with Dad.
“Doesn’t mean they won’t ever. Regardless, because of this, Caroline has to always be ready to defend you all. To protect you at all costs.”
“And how did this help you with my mother since you have it all figured out?”
“I did my best to impart to her that I’m not a threat to her children, especially you. That I’m an ally.” She feeds me another gummy bear. “Team Constantine all the way.”
“Hmm.”
“Yeah, hmm.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I tell her. “Mother may have been caught off guard by you.” I certainly was. “But she’ll regain her bearings and come back swinging. I hope you’re ready to have your life flayed open.”
“That happened the moment I sat on your desk and let you do filthy things to me,” she sasses back. “I have nothing to hide.” But the slight shift of her hazel eyes says otherwise.
My thoughts drift to earlier this evening after Perry and I dealt with the triplets. Nate texted me a warning, hinting that we had a mole within our ranks. He told me that if I’d ever get my head out of my ass and check her call log on her phone, maybe I’d realize this. At this point, his efforts to put a wedge between me and Ash rankles me. However, seeing the flicker of unease in Ash’s gaze has me paying attention more closely, a seed of doubt planted and growing deep in my gut.
“For the record, I didn’t do anything filthy that first day,” I say, giving my head a slight shake to clear it. “Just spent some time up close and personal getting to know a little about my investment before I went all in.”
“All in?” She grins at me. “I knew you were in love.”
“Go to hell, Cinderelliott.”
“Been there. Rode shotgun with your mean ass. Have the T-shirt.”
I gun the engine, flying past several cars before turning into a parking garage. The engine echoes like a jet taking off inside the garage. There’s an open space near the doors to the building where the restaurant is, and I whip into it. Once I park, I climb out, inhaling the lingering exhaust fumes from Perry’s orange hotrod. Ash gets out of the car and straightens her short dress before pulling her purse strap over her shoulder.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful.
The dress makes her long legs seem even longer. They’re shiny tonight from whatever oils they put on her at the spa. My mouth waters to run my tongue up the inside of her thigh to taste her again.
We may not have love like she claims, but we have a damn good partnership going on right now. I know good business and sound investments. Ash was a risk, but it came with great reward. This thing between us is hot and entertaining. It’s enough for me, so it has to be enough for her.
“Do you have reservations?” she asks when we reach the door and step inside the busy restaurant.
I place a palm on the small of her back. “I called ahead and spoke to the owner.”
“Of course you did.” She flashes me a silly smile that warms my blood.
“Have you been here before?” I ask, leaning in to inhale her sweet shampoo.
“No. Never.”
“It’s called Edge. A five-star steakhouse. The cows were probably still mooing this morning it’s that fresh.”
“Gross.”
I laugh and shrug. “You won’t say that once you’ve tasted the filet.”
The hostess greets us. Once I murmur my name, her eyes widen, and she scurries off. Moments later, a portly man with a wiry beard greets us. He must be Ed Steve
ns, the owner.
“Mr. Constantine,” he booms, shaking my hand. “So thrilled to have you at Edge tonight. Come this way.”
He seats us at a table in the middle of the restaurant that faces the door. As requested. I give him a nod and guide Ash to her seat. Once I’ve pulled out the chair and seated her, I take my seat beside her.
“Look, he does know how to be a gentleman,” she mutters to me, flashing me a wicked smile. “Who knew?”
I discreetly flip her off by scratching my stubble with my middle finger. “I want you to enjoy yourself tonight, Cinderelliott.” It has cost me a lot of money.
She reaches over and squeezes my thigh under the table. “Even when you drive me insane, I have fun with you.” She smirks. “Boyfriend.”
Brat.
The restaurant is packed, but of course they found a way to indulge a Constantine. Money talks. In my case, it’s super fucking chatty and anyone’s willing to listen.
“Are you sure you’ve never been here before?” I cock my head to the side as I study her, lingering my stare on her plump lips.
“No. Not all of us are fancy like you,” she teases.
“This is the Baldridge building. Where your stepmother works.” Or worked if I have anything to say about it.
“No way,” she hisses, her hazel eyes growing wide and round. “This building is the one with the big fuss?”
I give her a clipped nod. “You never visited Manda?”
“No.” Her nostrils flare in disgust. “I didn’t.”
The evening goes on without a hitch. Our appetizers are savory and delicious. Wine continues to flow. And the steak is every bit as I hyped it up to be. It’s no wonder Leo Morelli wanted this building and plans to evict every tenant aside from Edge Steakhouse.
I’m watching Ash moan over chocolate cake when rats suddenly make their way into the building. Not actual rats. Morellis. Ash makes a choked sound upon seeing the entourage.
Oh good . . . dinner and a show.
24
Ash
Oh my God.
He’s here. That bastard is here.
Dread pools in the pit of my stomach, souring everything I just ate. With a shaking hand, I set the fork down with a clatter. I can’t look at him, but I feel Leo’s hard stare boring into me.
