by Jesse Joren
His mouth was against the side of my neck, biting into my pulse just hard enough to send mad little tremors racing down between my legs.
"Hold on tight," he said in my ear, "because I'm not going to stop fucking you until you cum all over me. Got it?"
"I get it."
"Yeah. You're about to."
Hex began to whisper in my ear, his voice murmuring a low, sexy litany of the most graphic language I'd ever heard out loud. I'd read some steamy stuff – hell, I'd written a lot of it – but the intimacy of hearing it as he plunged into me was hotter than my darkest fantasies.
His voice was a goad that whipped me into a frenzy all over again. My arms and legs clutched him as I met him thrust for thrust, my body climbing higher against the wall. He was pounding into me almost hard enough to hurt – and I gloried in it.
The grip on my ass tightened, then he was pulling me away from the wall and turning. I came down hard on my back in the bed, with Hex on top of me.
"I'll be right back," he promised, withdrawing and stepping back from the bed.
With one rip he peeled off his black shirt, pulling it away from his chest. A few quick motions and the rest of the clothes were in the floor as well.
Hex in the raw was a breathtaking thing to see. The light in his loft was more subdued than the one downstairs, glinting from his smooth, golden-skinned chest. His lean body was beautifully sculpted with long muscles that flowed with every movement.
My eyes drifted over him as I tried to get used to the idea that he had been inside of me, that he was about to be again. But something was different. The panther-like grace was still there, but something—
When my gaze slid to his rippling arms, the difference clicked. The beautiful but hateful ROSINE tattoo was gone, replaced with the signs of a recent removal.
Hex watched my face as I absorbed this change.
"It needed to go a long time ago," he said. "See what I did instead?"
He gestured to his ribs. The red mark still lingered from the snakebite in the woods.
Except that wasn't the residual of a healed wound. It was the red outline of a snake drawn in the shape of a perfect apple. Inside the apple was EVA in neat, dark-red lowercase letters.
"You're responsible for this bite. Now you'll always remember that trip to the woods," he laughed.
His casual words and grin deceived me, and I didn't anticipate his pounce. He landed on top of me, catching his weight on his arms. With a slow, passionate kiss he slid back inside of me as if we hadn't paused.
"No more waiting," he said, looking down into my face. "Right now we go the rest of the way together."
His rhythm was strong and hard, pinning me to the bed. My sore flesh moaned, but even that was lost behind the mounting pleasure of those thrusts, the feel of his skin against mine.
The pinch of his fingers on my nipples made me groan and arch against him, trying to force him deeper still.
"Greedy," he said against my lips, kissing me hard. "You have every inch of me. What more do you want?"
"Make me scream," I whispered.
He answered that request with his body, driving into me with short sharp bucks that touched every arousal point I had. His hand snaked between us as he rubbed my clit in time to the thrusts, coaxing me to the finish.
A short, sharp scream tore from me. The pleasure was a tidal wave threatening to drown me. Everything seemed upside down, like the world wasn't real anymore.
The weight of his body pressed up into me as he gave me everything. My hands found his ass and pulled him into me, his deep groan making me dizzy with triumph. His hard, relentless battering extended my own pleasure, leaving me gasping.
Gradually he came to rest on top of me, breathing hard as he looked down at me. His slanting cheekbones framed a face so beautiful and alive that it made me ache.
He rolled us until we were side-by-side, gathering me into his arms and against his broad chest. Even in my exhaustion, I felt a pang as he slid from inside of me.
"It's almost morning," he said, nuzzling against my hair. "That might have been the shortest Halloween in history."
"You're right. It doesn't seem like—" A loud growl from my stomach startled us both.
Hex laughed. "I'm hungry too. Last thing I had was dinner night before last."
"Why?"
He gave a brief shrug. "I got busy. It happens, but I don't plan to starve you too."
"If this was Walden, I'd say that I just earned my food and clothes for a while," I said slyly.
"One meal at least," he said, catching my hand as I pretended to hit him. "I have stuff in the kitchen, for once."
"Were you that sure I'd stay?"
He brought my hand to his lips. "Yes. Whether you wanted to or not."
"I wanted."
His grin seemed to light up the whole loft.
"I noticed," he said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"I've never had grilled cheese for breakfast," I said, "but this might be a new favorite."
I was sitting on a high stool at the granite counter, wearing the black shirt that Hex had discarded. He'd offered me a clean one, but the smell of him on the used one was too much to resist.
My feet were cold, but my body was content. The sandwich was exactly what I craved, melty and hot and fresh out of the pan.
Hex was shirtless in the kitchen as he finished his own two sandwiches: rustic bread with melted Manchego cheese and thin slices of Granny Smith apple. He plopped them on a plate and sat on the stool beside me.
"It's not as good as Walden food," he said, "but most of that was from restaurants. You saw me make this, so it's authentic."
For so long Hex had been an enigma to me, in spite of the intimacy we shared. This carefree guy sitting next to me over grilled cheese was someone new.
"You have that look," he said, taking a bite.
"What look?"
"The one that says you're about to start grilling me like I did these sandwiches."
"You did promise me three questions, but it's not that. You seem so much more relaxed. Less grim and in control."
"Wow. I'm grim?"
"Sometimes, especially in Atlanta. Was it the sex that relaxed you?"
That made him laugh.
"The world is full of uncertainty, especially big cities," he said. "Right now we're in a place where I know we have security and privacy. Maybe that lets me be less guarded."
His lack of concern about my earlier screams suddenly made sense. "You own this building."
He nodded.
"And I keep the outside shabby, to make it less interesting. The windows are two-way glass, always dark. From the street, it looks abandoned."
"Plenty of cameras, I'm sure."
"And alarms. If the power quits, the whole roof is set up as a solar generator with batteries. Supplies on floor four. If hell breaks loose, this is a safe place to hunker down, or make a plan to leave."
"I'm moving here then," I said without thinking. Quickly I added, "That was a joke."
"The closet on your floor has clothes in your size," he said. "Nothing would make me happier than having you here. There are two rules: I pick you up and bring you here, and no one else but you is welcome."
"I'm not being a controlling asshole." He grinned. "At least, not much. This place is off the grid, and if I'm bringing you here, I know we're not being followed."
His words gave me a tingle of unease. If he was saying these things, there was probably a good reason behind it.
"I invoke my right to three questions," I said suddenly.
"Go ahead."
"What's your real name? I know it's not Stephen D'Amitri."
"The best lies are rooted in truth," he said. "Stephen is my real first name, but I'm Stephen Dante by birth."
Holy hell. He'd actually given me a straight answer.
"Stephen Dante." I rolled it around on my tongue. "It suits you, but you'll always be Hex to me."
"No one else k
nows that name. I like it being yours alone."
"How many do you have?"
"Four right now. Since I started using aliases, probably five or six dozen. With full documentation for all of them, of course."
"And what exactly is it that you do?" I tried to look nonchalant as I finished my sandwich, but I was holding my breath.
For a moment he concentrated on the second sandwich, appearing to give my question serious thought. Or maybe he was coming up with the sort of half-answer that had been his trademark at Walden.
When he finally answered, his smile held an ironic edge.
"That's your third question. I can answer, but you're going to have a lot more questions once I do. If you're willing to defer, I'll let you grill me to your heart's content."
"Is this a trick?"
"Nope. A serious offer because right now all I want to do is curl up with you and sleep, then find other ways to make you scream."
As much as I wanted an answer to my question, that sounded too good to pass up. All at once I realized how exhausted I was.
"I'll defer," I agreed, "but you better not disappear on me again."
The brief, almost imperceptible flicker in his expression made me wish I hadn't said it.
"I thought it was right," he said, "but it wasn't. I'm not going to make that mistake again."
The current of feeling between us flowed strong and sure. Hex kissed my hands.
"Let's see if we can actually sleep in the same bed," he teased. "I do have a tiny condition when I answer your questions, by the way."
"What a shock."
"The next choice from The Book of Eva is yours. Think on it and tell me later. Once you've done that, I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Chapter Twenty-Four
When Natalie came to my office on Monday, guilt washed over me. After the text right before Hex locked me in the trunk, I'd barely thought of my phone except to make sure it was in my purse when he dropped me off at work this morning.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized before I could speak. "I got your text, and then shit happened. Everything okay with your guy?"
"Better than okay, but what happened?"
Whatever it was, it seemed to suit her. She was glowing as she sat in my little guest chair.
"So he finally showed up. What did you—"
I cut her off. "No way. This isn't about me this time. Spill your secrets, sister."
"I have something to tell you," she said. "Phillip and I are engaged. I'm going to have the same last name as Stella. Pray for me."
My mouth dropped open. Natalie looked pleased with the effect of her words, then she held her left hand out to me. A huge, violet diamond ring sparkled on her finger.
"I thought he was in a dating dry spell," was all I could think to say.
"It seemed better to keep it quiet," Natalie said. "Stella found out a few weeks ago. She's scared of me, but that's why you've been getting her bitchy sidestream. I should have told you sooner, but—"
With one pounce I was around the desk to hug her. "Will you stop? This is awesome, you sneak! Phillip is great. So you're madly in love?"
"As long as he doesn’t piss me off," she said with exaggerated casualness. The soft flush in her face and the light in her eyes told me everything I wished for her.
"Let me guess. Wile E. Coyote St. Clair?"
She nodded. "In the flesh. Stella must have known we were about to make it official. She was drunk at the party."
"I could tell. I don't know why she hates me so much."
"Because you let her intimidate you," Natalie said. "She's not as tough as she thinks. Stand up to her, and it'll stop."
"Right. Stand up to a senior partner in the firm."
"Chicken," she mocked, but she was smiling. "I feel like celebrating. Let's sneak out for a coffee."
"I really shouldn't—"
"What did I just say about standing up for yourself?"
"Hey, I faced down a gunman a few weeks ago," I protested.
"Then you're ready for Stella and the big leagues."
"But –"
"How many emails has she already sent you this morning?"
She had a point. "You're right," I said. "I'll buy."
--
Maggie, the receptionist who had replaced me, gave us a conspiratorial smile when we returned half an hour later.
"You two are living dangerously," she said, "but I won't spill your secrets."
"Has Stella been on the warpath?" Natalie asked with a certain relish.
"When is she not?" Maggie said. "That mean ol' face of hers could stop a clock."
"What a witch." Natalie shook her head in sympathy.
"That's okay." Maggie had a sunny optimism that had already made her an office favorite. "I'm glad to work here, and Phillip is nice enough for both of them."
She looked around and lowered her voice.
"I bet he's dating someone," she said. "No way a guy like that is single for so long. Good for him for keeping it on the down-low."
Natalie lowered her voice too. "I think you might be right. I heard she's awesome."
Maggie laughed as we headed for the elevator. "Good. He needs something to make up for having Stella for a sister."
My thoughts exactly.
--
Natalie went off to prepare for a briefing. I tried to settle into my own work, but my pleasure at her news kept distracting me. She and Phillip would be a rare case of awesome people who actually deserved each other. As soon as we had our next lunch, I was going to grill her on every detail.
Being under Stella's thumb was no fun, but the work was getting more interesting as I learned. Phillip was steering the firm along a shrewd path that touched on emerging markets all around the world.
Right now I was gathering research on Panama. St. Clair and Associates had a lengthy list of clients doing business and retiring there. Who would have thought that half of the world's shipping cargo passed through that little neck of water?
It was hard work, and every day was a race to keep up with the firehose of information coming my way. Auditing the classes was eating up my evenings, and now Natalie was engaged. And Hex—
A slow flush heated my body as I remembered the weekend. A lingering soreness between my thighs kept reminding me of Halloween night.
Those audits might have to wait. A text beeped from Hex, as if my thoughts had conjured him.
You could persuade me to stay at your place tonight.
Seeing him on my phone was a new and wonderful thing. I tapped out my reply.
Me: I can make dinner that MIGHT be edible.
Hex: Have I mentioned that I make a mean pizza?
Me: So do I. Pizza duel? Loser buys dessert.
Hex: Winner gets to BE dessert.
Me: You're on.
Hex: I'll be there at 6:30.
Just then the office phone rang. My smile vanished at the distress in Maggie's voice on the other end.
"Eva, can you please come down to the atrium? Stella wants to speak with us."
"Sure, be right there." My voice was normal, but my heart sank. Now what?
When I got downstairs, Stella was waiting at the receptionist desk, dressed to kill in a white silk blouse, black skirt, and black stiletto pumps. Her blonde hair was pulled into a chignon, and I wondered how someone so beautiful could be so mean.
Maggie was huddled in her chair as if trying to make herself smaller. Her usual smile had vanished, her pert face white and strained.
"You wanted to see me, Stella?" I asked.
She raked me with a cool glance. Even though I was smartly dressed in a soft burgundy wool suit, her look was unimpressed.
"I was downstairs a little while ago," she said, "setting up for a presentation in one of the conference rooms."
She waved her hand toward the conference room not far behind Maggie' desk.
"I heard something very interesting. Something about me having an ugly face. About Phillip being un
lucky to have me as a sister. Do you know anything about that?"
From the corner of my eye, I saw Maggie flinch. Well, I wasn't going to be the one rat her out.
I looked Stella straight in the eye. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"So you haven't been in the lobby in the past hour?" she asked, going into full cross-examination mode.
"I went out for coffee, but—"
"What a surprise." Her tone was cutting. "Let's not play games. I heard what was said."
Maggie was a single mom with a young son, and she made no secret of being glad to have insurance again. Why didn't Stella ever pick on someone who could fight back?
"I don't give a damn what you say or think of me, Eva, but there might have been clients in there," Stella said. "Petty gossip hurts our credibility."
Wait. She was talking as if I had said those things about her. I glanced at Maggie, and she wet her lips nervously.
"Stella, I'm sorry," she said in a trembling voice. "I was the one who said that. I didn't mean—"
Ms. St. Clair held up an imperious hand.
"No need to cover for anyone, Maggie," she said grandly. "I know whose voice I heard. Insubordination is grounds for dismissal, but I'm willing to settle for a very sincere apology."
She gave me a tiny smile of victory.
Both of us knew that I hadn't said those things. This was just one more shot in her private war against me.
A slow wave of red filled my vision.
"Well?" Stella was a textbook vision of haughty smugness.
"You misunderstood what I think of you, Stella," I began.
Her smile grew wider as Maggie looked even more miserable.
"I don't think you have an ugly face," I went on. "I think you're a pretentious bully who rides her brother's coattails and pretends like she's better than she is."
Now two open-mouthed faces were staring at me.
"You're lucky to have Phillip as a brother," I went on, gaining steam in my anger. "Everyone despises you, and it's not from envy. It's because you're horrible. I'm getting my things, then I'm out of here."
"You'll go now," she said tightly. "Get out. Anything personal will be sent to your home."
"Right," I snorted. "You think I'm leaving my purse here? You'd probably steal my credit card."
