by J. S. Scott
I wanted her, but I also felt like I needed her. Experiencing emotions like that was foreign to me, and I didn’t like it.
I fucked.
I sent nice gifts.
And I was done.
Britney was the only woman I’d ever had a monogamous relationship with, and look how shitty that had turned out. I’d never done exclusivity again, before or after my experience with the girlfriend-from-hell.
Strangely, I’d never been possessive of Britney or any other woman. I didn’t think it was in my DNA. The only reason I’d gone exclusive with Britney was because she had wanted it, and I had been pretty ambivalent at the time. There hadn’t been anyone else I wanted to fuck, and I was okay with her being the only one. Too bad she hadn’t felt the same way, even though she’d been the one to insist on being my one and only.
Now, not only did I want to nail Eva until she couldn’t walk, but I was also covetous of her, possessive for the first time in my life.
“Jesus! I’m pathetic,” I growled, throwing random punches and kicks at the bag in front of me, breathing hard when I finally stopped.
Shucking the gloves as I headed toward the shower of my home gym, I knew Eva was probably ready and waiting upstairs for me to take her to the store.
I was feeling only slightly better as I got dressed after stroking myself to orgasm in the shower to fantasies of making Eva come in a variety of ways.
What in the fuck was happening to me? There was any number of women I could call, but that wasn’t what I wanted, and it wasn’t going to satisfy me any more than my own hand just did.
I climbed the stairs in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, almost certain I was completely losing my mind.
*****
Watching Eva shop in a pair of skin-tight jeans and a sweater, obviously part of her new wardrobe judging by the designer label on the back pocket of the denim, was almost a sensual experience.
She clung to the food reverently, as though it were precious. When she stroked the damn turkey like it was some kind of grand prize, I wanted to come right there in the fucking grocery isle.
“Is that the one?” I asked impatiently, anxious to get her away from the turkeys.
She sighed, and I wanted to absorb the satisfied sound with my mouth over hers.
“It should work good. There’s just the two of us. We’ll be eating leftovers for days, even with this one.” She hefted up what looked like an enormous bird to me, not that I knew anything about finding the right Thanksgiving turkey.
She looked happy, and so damn beautiful doing such a mundane task that I wanted to bottle her enthusiasm so I could get drunk on it later.
Moving forward, I tried to take the heavy item, but she refused.
I motioned for her to hurry up and add it to the cart. “Drop it in.” And get me the fuck out of here now.
She didn’t dump it in the cart. Eva placed it in the bottom carefully, moving other items around to make room. Then, she gave the plump bird another small pat. “I think that’s it. We should be done. Your cupboards are well-stocked. You just didn’t have a few of the things we needed for a Thanksgiving dinner.”
I didn’t cook. My employees knew that. Most of my dinners were ordered in or easy to heat. Until Eva, I’d never even wondered who shopped for me, or how exactly what I wanted seemed to magically appear in my cupboards.
I was close enough to smell her delicate, intoxicating scent, and when she looked up at me and smiled, I decided that I wanted to keep this woman happy no matter what I needed to do.
Mine.
I felt the word all the way to my gut. Eva didn’t know it yet, but she belonged to me. At least for a little while.
“Eva?” A female voice squealed from down the aisle.
I watched as Eva turned around, her expression breaking into an even broader smile.
“Isa!” She ran to meet the woman halfway, the two females colliding in an awkward tangle of arms as they hugged happily.
“Where have you been? I was so worried when I couldn’t get in touch with you.”
The woman’s voice lowered after that comment, and I casually strode closer to listen to their conversation.
Isa—whoever the person might be to Eva—was absolutely stunning. She was a little taller than Eva, but around the same age.
Eva turned to introduce her friend to me. “Isa, this is Trace Walker, my…” She seemed to be searching for words.
“Her fiancé,” I finished, smiling at the pretty dark-haired female next to Eva. There was no way I wanted any of Eva’s friends knowing the truth. Hell, not even my own brother was going to know.
“Trace, this is my friend, Isa Jones. We lost track of each other for a while. She ran off after she got married.”
Isa playfully punched Eva’s arm. “I didn’t run off. You moved and I didn’t know.” She stuck out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from the media.”
The female had a strong, confident handshake, and she met my eyes directly. I liked that. It wasn’t any big surprise that she knew of me. It seemed that I was everybody’s favorite target for the gossip columns and magazines. I hated knowing that the Walker name was infamous, and that people I didn’t know actually knew my name and selected information I chose to release. That part of being wealthy had never failed to bother me. I preferred that my private life stayed private, but that wasn’t going to happen. It was something I’d accepted over the years as being a down side to having a lot of money. I didn’t have much choice. I was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, and because I worked my ass off, my fortune only got larger.
“My pleasure.” I put a charming smile on my face.
Stepping back, Isa asked, “How long have you been together?”
Seeing her discreet glance at Eva’s ring finger, I knew that was a situation I had to rectify soon. She needed a ring.
“We’ve been…connected for years,” Eva said carefully. “But we just made the big commitment. We haven’t even had time to get a ring.”
Eva was good, so good that even I almost believed her. She could tell the absolute truth, but make it vague without anyone suspecting there was more than what she was saying.
We’ve been…connected for years? Technically, she’s my stepsister, so I guess that’s true.
Guilt pounded at me for the dire circumstances Eva had suffered. Yeah, maybe I hadn’t known I had a stepsister, but I’d never thought to ask. As far as I knew, my brothers didn’t have a clue that Eva had existed either. My father had grown children, and Eva’s mother hadn’t been that much younger than my dad. It made sense that she had borne a child…now.
I reached out and clasped Eva’s hand, only to find her fingers were like an iceberg.
“You cold?” I asked.
She squeezed my hand. “No. I’m fine.”
It felt natural to keep her next to me. I didn’t find out much more about Eva, but through the conversation, I did discover that Isa was married to a man I knew and admired, a wealthy technology genius.
Isa hugged Eva again. “Please don’t lose touch. I’ve missed you, and I’ve wondered how your educational plans worked out.”
I wondered what Eva had been planning, but I didn’t ask. Somehow, I had a sense that she was uncomfortable talking to Isa about it. She’d lowered her head, and she was no longer looking her friend in the eye. Her body language was screaming that she was distressed.
“Do you have a cell phone?” I asked Isa, changing the focus of the conversation.
It was easy to presume, by the look in Eva’s eyes, that she’d missed Isa, too, but just didn’t want to talk about whatever her plans had been right now.
Isa rummaged in her purse and pulled out her phone.
“I’ll put in Eva’s new cell.” I already knew the number by heart, which was both pathetic and normal for me. I was naturally good with numbers, and had perfect recall if the numbers were important enough for me to remember. The fact that my
brain had subconsciously recorded the number of the cell phone I’d purchased for Eva was pretty sad. There were very few phone numbers I considered important, and all of those numbers were already in my phone, including hers. I’d put it in as soon as I’d purchased the phone and set it up. Strange that for some reason, I’d thought the number was important enough to take up space in my already overcrowded mind.
I handed the cell phone back to Isa after entering Eva’s number.
The women hugged again, with a promise from both of them to call and catch up.
“She was important to you. Still is,” I guessed as we walked toward the checkout.
“Yes.” Eva’s tone was guarded.
“A friend? She looks older than you.”
“She was a teaching assistant at my high school. I’m guessing she’s probably a teacher now. She was finishing up her teaching degree when we met.” She paused before asking, “Since when do I have a cell phone?”
I ignored her question. I’d bought her plenty that she hadn’t seen yet. “How did she end up married to Jones?” A teaching assistant and a tech mogul was an interesting combination.
Eva shrugged. “She was already dating him when I met her, so I’m not sure how they met. But she looks happy.”
“So what were your plans?” That was actually what I was most curious about, and I raised a brow at her after unloading the groceries onto the belt. She was silent.
“Sometimes plans don’t work out,” she answered abruptly.
Something was wrong, I could sense it, recognizing the thread of sadness in her voice mingling with her defensiveness.
“You’ll tell me when we get home.” I’d wring it out of her somehow. I’d banish all of the shadows of her past because they irritated me. Eva was the type of woman who was inherently made to be happy, yet she’d somehow been robbed of the opportunity.
She got screwed by a selfish mother who hadn’t given a shit about her.
The more I thought about it, the more it pissed me off. My dad had had expectations for all of his sons. He’d been a savvy businessman, and he’d been formidable, but he wasn’t the type not to accept a new daughter had Eva’s mother chosen to bring her into the family.
Eva was quiet as we exited the store, and that annoyed me even more. I had to know why she had been forgotten when her mother had taken off for Texas to marry my dad. Hell, she obviously hadn’t even stayed for Eva’s high school graduation. What kind of parent was that?
Seeing her apartment and how Eva had been living made my gut ache. Granted, I knew next to nothing about Karen Morales, but I was going to make it a point to find out.
My control was something I valued, and I was slowly losing it completely when it came to Eva. I needed to find out what was wrong so I could fix it. When I buried my cock inside her, I greedily wanted her complete attention.
I didn’t want gratitude.
I didn’t want her to feel like she owed me.
All I wanted was her pleasure, and those climatic moments would belong to me and only me.
If that made me a selfish bastard, I didn’t care, but I would make her mine.
I had no doubt that I’d win.
I always do.
Chapter Six
Eva
I prepared a brine to marinate the turkey, my mouth watering at the thought of our Thanksgiving feast tomorrow. I hadn’t eaten regular meals in so long that the thought of eating a huge meal seemed almost decadent.
I knew Trace was waiting for me, wanting to pick up the conversation where we’d left off in the grocery store. Now that I’d stored the plump bird in the fridge, I had little reason to avoid him. Except for the fact that I really didn’t want to talk about Isa or the dreams that I’d had right before I graduated from high school. That was a long time ago, and things had changed more than I ever dreamed possible…and not in a good way.
Release it. Let it go.
There was nothing I could do to change my past, but I could decide my own future now.
I was washing my hands way longer than I needed to when I heard a male voice right next to me. “Wine?” he asked, holding out a beautiful wine glass partially filled with white wine.
Not being much of a drinker, I had no idea what I liked when it came to alcohol. Nevertheless, I thought I could use a drink. I noted he was holding a small glass with something that looked stronger than the wine I took from his hand.
“Thanks,” I answered gratefully, taking a careful sip of the pale liquid. “It’s good.”
“I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
I smiled at him weakly. “That makes two of us. I’m not sure either. I don’t really drink alcohol much.”
“Come sit with me. Are you done?”
I was, but I really wanted to tell him that I had a ton of things to do in the kitchen. But for some reason, I couldn’t lie to him. “Yes.”
He nodded his head toward the living room, and I followed. He’d turned on the enormous gas fireplace, and the room was so inviting. I’d discovered that although Trace liked quality, he wasn’t one to blatantly flash his wealth. The neutral colors were lovely, the leather of the furniture butter-soft, but the room was still comfortable.
I took a seat in one of the leather recliners. He stretched out his large form on a matching sofa across from me.
He was still wearing the same pair of black jeans that hugged his body, and a green sweatshirt that matched his eyes. Jesus, he was gorgeous, his short hair slightly mussed, giving him a look that was almost…touchable.
Thank God he was sitting far enough away that I couldn’t smell his unique masculine scent, but the short separation wasn’t helping much. I still wanted to strip him naked and crawl up his body and beg him to fuck me.
“Tell me now, Eva. What were your plans back when you were getting out of high school?”
His baritone was rich and smooth, and it flowed over me like velvet.
I took a slug of my wine, knowing I would have to talk about some of my past. “When I was sixteen, I got a job in a restaurant. I learned a lot by working in the kitchen. I wanted to pursue a career in the culinary arts, and Isa helped me find an apprenticeship program. I could work and study at the same time. She did a lot of things that she didn’t need to do, like helping me with arranging some financial aid and applying for scholarships. But as soon as I graduated, things changed.”
Please don’t ask me anymore. I’d told him everything I wanted to reveal.
“Changed how?”
I shrugged. “My mother left, and I had bills to pay.”
“Her bills?”
“The rent was overdue, and I was going to be evicted. At the time, I had no idea where she’d gone. I had to give up every penny I’d saved to keep a roof over my head.”
He frowned. “Why didn’t she tell you, take you with her? My dad was strict, but he would have welcomed you. He wouldn’t have wanted you to be left alone at seventeen. Christ! She just deserted you.”
She’d done much more than that, but I wasn’t going to tell him just how coldhearted my mother had been. What good would it do? “She hated my father, and she despised me. I reminded her of every failure she’d ever had in her life. Her marriage to my dad was one of her big ones, or so she said. I think she had to marry my father because he got her pregnant. My grandparents wouldn’t accept him…or me.” Lord knew I’d heard about how I ruined my mother’s life often enough—her mixed-race child that her parents would never take in.
“Why?”
“He was a laborer, and we were always barely scraping by. But he kept us fed and put a roof over our head.”
Trace looked at me sharply. “You cared about him. You miss him.”
I nodded. “Every single day since he died. I loved him, and he loved me.” I hadn’t known the warmth of parental affection since the day my father had left this earth, and I think I’d always miss it.
“I never really knew Karen,” Trace mused angrily. “None of us knew about you,
Eva, or we would have come for you. Honestly, I only met your mother once, and that was at the wedding. All of us were surprised when we found out Dad was getting married. Sebastian and I were in college, and Dane was getting ready to leave, too. I guess Dad was lonely.”
“Why would you feel obligated to help me? You aren’t really family.” The Walkers had no reason to rescue me. Granted, I’d harbored resentment toward anyone with the name Walker, but they’d been just as faultless as I was.
“Because none of us are like your late mother,” he growled, sitting his drink on the table and standing up.
He grasped my hand and pulled me over on the couch with him. The wine still balanced in my hand, I sat reluctantly, letting him pull me closer to his body. I wanted to be there, but I didn’t. His scent filled my senses; his nearness made me want things I could never have.
I sighed as he took my wine glass and set it on the table next to his empty tumbler. For a moment, I let my body sink into his larger form, letting myself believe that he would have helped me, protected me, after my mother had left.
His arms tightened around me, and I laid my head on his shoulder. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes because he felt so damn good. It had been so long since anyone had actually cared about me.
“Thank you. It’s not your fault that you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t ask, and I hate myself for that.”
Tilting my head, I looked at the stormy expression in his eyes. “Don’t,” I said firmly, putting a hand on his face, reveling in the feel of his whiskered jaw under my fingers. “It’s not your fault, and I’m safe now. I have a job, and a future because of you.”
“Don’t be grateful to me,” he rasped, using his body weight to pin me down on the couch.
My head hit one of the throw pillows, and I stared up at his furious expression, just inches from mine. “I am grateful. How could I not be?” I would very likely be at a homeless shelter somewhere if I hadn’t gone to his office begging for a job.
“I don’t deserve it. I don’t pity you, Eva. I want to fuck you.”
