“But I don’t want to go.” My shoulders shake and my voice cracks. I try to scoot closer to him and he lets me. Thank God he lets me. “Please, Anthony. I can’t live without you.”
“You can.” His hand cups my chin and his thumb strokes against my jaw. I lean into his warmth and kiss his palm.
“You’ll find a man who can love you.” It breaks my heart that he’s willing to let me go. That he’s shoving me away. “I don’t deserve you.” He says the words with finality.
“Just the fact that you’re saying that means you do.” I breathe out the words, my hands clutching his. I need him to take me back.
“I’ll do anything.” I will. I’ll do anything he wants for him to take me back.
“Then leave me,” he says.
“I won’t.” I almost yell the words, but somehow, saying it in a calm voice and locking my eyes on his, it comes out with force.
His eyes heat with anger and a dark lust that I’ve missed. “Are you disobeying me, kitten?” he asks. His chest rises and falls with a sharp intake of air.
“Yes. I am.” I stare back at him defiantly, hoping it’s enough. That his need to punish me is enough that he’ll keep me. Even if he doesn’t realize it, I know he loves me. And I love him.
I close my eyes and gather up the courage to spill my truth to him. “I love you, Anthony.” I wipe the tears away angrily. “You'd better not throw me out. I’d rather die.”
“You wouldn’t,” he says as though he knows it to be true.
“I would. I can’t live without you.” The pain in my chest is unbearable. I know I won’t be okay without him. Never.
“I did that to you,” he says with regret.
“You did what I wanted, Anthony. You always did what I wanted.” I take his hand in mine and press his palm to my cheek. “I need you now more than I ever did. I’ll beg until you cave. I swear I will.”
He looks at me for a long time and I remain still, waiting for his verdict. My heart pumps slowly in my chest as though it’s prepared to stop beating if he denies me.
“Come here, kitten.” I crawl up to him, loving my pet name. I nestle into his side, careful not to hurt him. “You’ve been very disrespectful,” he says, staring into my eyes. “And you disobeyed me. You left me, and then disobeyed me again. You put yourself in danger.” His admonishment makes my shoulders droop in shame. What’s worse is that it’s all true.
“I’m sorry, Anthony.”
“Don’t be,” he says, taking my chin in his hand and tracing my lower lip with his thumb. “If you come back to me now,” he says, “I’ll never let you go.”
My heart swells in my chest and I push my lips to his. My tear-stained cheeks heat as he kisses me back with the passion I know he has for me. I break our kiss and finally breathe.
“Never let me go, Anthony.” I look into his tortured eyes and I hurt so much for him. For everything he’s been through, but also because I know leaving the way I did hurt him, and I fucking hate that. “I love you.” I’ll say it every day until he believes me, although I’m not sure he ever will.
His forehead scrunches and he takes in a deep breath. He swallows thickly and looks out of the hospital window. Finally, he looks back to me and says the words I want to hear every day for the rest of my life. “I love you, too. But that’s not even close enough to describing what I feel for you. I want you to remember that. Always.”
Anthony
Months later
I’ve been looking for Catherine everywhere and I’m trying to push away the feeling that something’s wrong. I keep waiting for her to leave me again, no matter how many times she says she loves me. She says I just need time to accept it, and maybe that’s true. I don’t care what holds us together, so long as she never leaves me.
I almost pass by the pile of two-by-fours and cans of paint, but then I catch sight of her out of the corner of my eye. She’s curled up in a ball on the reading nook I built for her. Each wall is a shelf for her books and there’s a giant window with a bench that I plan on padding for her. She’s curled up on the wood, napping.
“I gave you a fitting pet name, kitten,” I say as I pet her hair. She blinks a few times and yawns. She’s been tired from the move and from all the changes, but the one thing that stays the same is the look of devotion I get from her every waking moment. The move’s been good for her. She said she needed to be close to family. My familia. Our familia.
I have to admit it’s been good for her. For me, too. Which is surprising. Even Vince seems to be as happy as a pig in shit. And Catherine and Elle are thick as thieves when it comes to planning these fucking get-togethers she forces me to attend. Apparently having a girl that gets along well with everyone looks good for me and makes me more approachable. I’m still on my own when it comes to work, but that’s the way I want it.
I’m about to whip her ass though and she should know it. “You were supposed to be upstairs twenty minutes ago,” I tell her with a hard voice. She knows it’s play though. There’s a time for that side of me to come out, and right now, it’s time. She wanted to play, and so did I. She should’ve been there to greet me on her knees.
Her eyes go wide and she’s quick to pick up her phone. She checks it and shakes her head as she taps the screen and looks at her alarms. She winces and holds the phone up for me to see. She never turned the alarm on.
“I really hate to have to do this,” I say even though I fucking don’t hate it at all. She looks up with a bit of apprehension, but her eyes are full of lust and her legs subconsciously fall open. She knows she’s going to be cumming soon. She’s a spoiled pet. But I fucking love it.
I sit next to her on the bench and she quickly sits up and waits.
Since moving I’ve punished her ass at least a dozen times. Not for disobeying me, since she knows better than that. She deliberately disobeyed me once before we moved. She sought out Vince after I told her not to. I told her to leave it alone and let us break off from the familia. I thought it was best, but she defied me. My hand twitches remembering how I spanked her. I got her on edge and left her there, alone and crying. She took her punishment and waited for me to go back to her. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. I’m not a man who makes love to a woman, but if I ever have, it was with her that night. And then of course I gave her what she wanted.
“What’s my punishment, Anthony?” she asks as she looks up at me with big doe eyes. She’s an awful actress. There’s nothing but excitement on her face.
“I set the bench up in the dungeon.” I can’t help but smile at her name for the basement. She bought a whip and a riding crop, stuck them in the corner on top of a bed and called it the dungeon. My little kitten is fucking adorable.
Her eyes glaze over with longing and she speaks in a breathy voice. “Yes, Anthony.” She loves that bench. I had to reinforce it because I almost broke it the last time I fucked her on it.
My brow furrows as she waits for me to lead her to the basement so she can take her punishment.
“Do you still want to play, kitten?” I ask her. After everything we’ve been through, I keep thinking one day she won’t want this. One day she’ll decide she doesn’t want this anymore.
“Always,” she answers. “I’ll always be your kitten, and you can be my bad boy.” She tells me like it’s a fact.
“Boy? No, kitten. I’m a bad man.” It’s the truth, and I wish she’d just accept it, but I don’t think she ever will.
Her eyes go soft and fill with sadness.
“You aren’t a bad man.” She shakes her head and it breaks my heart. I wish I’d never burdened her with my shit. None of that matters; it’s in the past where it belongs. And my sweet love is my future. It’s all for her.
“Bad boy?” I ask her. She’s gotta be fucking kidding me.
“It’s a genre of romance,” she explains.
Jesus Christ.
“Call me whatever you want, kitten, when we’re home. But please don’t call me you
r romantic bad boy in front of another human being ever.” That has her eyes filling with laughter and a silent giggle shaking her shoulders. That’s my girl.
I finger the ring in my pocket nervously. I just got it back from the jeweler. I had it custom designed for her to match her owl earrings. It took a little convincing, but now that she doesn’t fear losing them, she never wears anything else. I thought rubies in her engagement ring would be a nice touch. It’s the entire reason I wanted to play today. I need her to do this for me. We need this.
“You know you love it,” she teases me. As she says the words I slip the ring on her finger. She pulls back with a gasp and stares down at the diamond. She covers her mouth with her other hand.
“Marry me, Catherine.” I tell her simply. I want everyone everywhere to instantly know she’s mine. Always.
She nods her head as tears slip down her cheeks. She rises from her chair and wraps her arms around my neck as she says, “Yes, Anthony.”
“I love you, Catherine,” I whisper as I lean down for a kiss.
“I love you too, Anthony.”
Epilogue
Catherine
I type away and continue hitting the keys even though I hear him coming. I just have to get this thought out before I forget. I was hit with a wave of inspiration for this scene and I don’t want to lose it. I’ve been writing steadily ever since we moved into the new house. My office has a huge window, just like it did at our old place. Well, this one’s even bigger, but the feeling is the same.
He walks up behind me at the back of my desk and rests his hands on my shoulders, but other than that, he doesn’t interrupt. It only takes a minute for me to finish my thought and when I do, I’m quick to look up at him and give him a small smile. I reach my hand behind his neck and pull him down to me for a kiss.
“Mmm.” He hums against my lips. “What is my naughty girl up to?” I blush at his low tone and rest my head against his chest.
“I wanted to write our story.” I feel him stiffen behind me, but I keep going and decide to spill it all. “All of our stories.”
“Kitten,” Anthony says in an admonishing tone.
“No, no. It’s fiction. Under a pen name. No one will ever know.” I look up at him searching for approval. I love romance novels, and I just have to write all these love stories I’ve heard. The whole family is filled with fairytales, albeit dirty smutty fairytales, that have to be told. I’ve never felt compelled so much in my life to write them down. Ours will be last, because in my completely unbiased opinion, it’s the best.
He smirks at me and places a hand on the nape of my neck, massaging slightly. “Can I read them?”
“If you want to.” I wouldn’t be shocked if he did. He reads over my work from time to time. I used to think he was making sure that I wasn’t trying to put clues or hints out there for someone to come rescue me from him. As if. But then he started doing things in bed that were incredibly familiar from my blogs and columns.
“Well, I definitely want to read ours. I wanna know what my kitten was thinking when I brought her home.” He smiles warmly at me with love in his eyes before leaning down to give me a sweet kiss. My chest warms with his affection.
“I have a question I need to know… for the story.” I don’t know what he’ll answer. But I really do want to know. “Why didn’t you have me call you master?” I ask him.
It takes him a moment to answer. “I knew from the second I saw you that I would be just as much a slave to you as you would ever be to me. If not more.” Tears prick my eyes. I fucking love his answer. “Doesn’t matter what you call me, babe,” he says as he tips my chin up so I have to look at him, “You’ll always be my kitten.”
“You’ll always be my bad boy.” That earns me a chuckle as I lean into his chest savoring how happy we both are.
It might not be ideal or perfect, but I’m more than satisfied with my happily ever after.
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Sneak Peek at Merciless
From USA Today bestselling author W Winters comes a heart-wrenching, edge-of-your-seat gripping, romantic suspense.
I should’ve known she would ruin me the moment I saw her.
Women like her are made to destroy men like me.
I couldn’t resist her though.
Given to me to start a war; I was too eager to accept.
But I didn’t know what she’d do to me. That she would change everything.
She sees through me in a way no one else ever has.
Her innocence and vulnerability make me weak for her and I hate it.
I know better than to give in to temptation.
A ruthless man doesn’t let a soul close to him.
A cold-hearted man doesn’t risk anything for anyone.
A powerful man with a beautiful woman at his mercy … he doesn’t fall for her.
Chapter 1
Carter
War is coming.
It’s something I’ve known for over two years.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
My jaw ticks in time with the skin over my knuckles turning white as my fist clenches tighter. The tension in my stiff shoulders rises and I have to remind myself to breathe in deep and let the strain of it all go away.
Tick. Tock. It’s the only sound echoing off the walls of my office and with each passing of the pendulum the anger grows.
It’s always like this before I go to a meet. This one in particular sends a thrill through my blood, the adrenaline pumping harder with each passing minute.
My gaze moves from the grandfather clock in my office to the shelves next to it and then beneath them to the box made of mahogany and steel. It’s only three feet deep and tall and six feet long. It blends into the right wall of my office, surrounded by polished bookshelves that carry an aroma of old books.
I paid more than I should have simply to put on display. All any of this is a façade. People’s perceptions are their reality. And so I paint the picture they need to see so I can use them as I see fit. The expensive books and paintings, polished furniture made of rare wood… All of it is bullshit.
Except for the box. The story that came with it will stay with me forever. In all of the years, it’s the one of the few memories that I can pin point as a defining moment. The box never leaves me.
The words from the man who gave it to me are still as clear as is the memory of his pale green eyes, glassed over as he told me his story.
About how it kept him safe when he was a child. He told me how his mother had shoved him in it to protect him.
I swallow thickly, feeling my throat tighten and the cord in my neck strain with the memory. He painted the picture so well.
He told me how he clung to his mother seeing how panicked she was. But he did as he was told, he stayed quiet in the safe box and could only listen while the men murdered his mother.
It was the story he gave me with the box he offered to barter for his life. And it reminded me of my own mother telling me goodbye before she passed.
Yes, his story was touching, but the defin
ing moment is when I put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger regardless.
He tried to steal from me and then pay me with a box as if the money he laundered was a debt or a loan. William was good at stealing, at telling stories, but the fucker was a dumb prick.
I didn’t get to where I am by playing nicely and being weak. That day I took the box that saved him as a reminder of who I was. Who I needed to be.
I made sure that box has been within my sight for every meeting I’ve had in this office. It’s a reminder for me so I can stare at it in this god forsaken room as I make deal after deal with criminal after criminal and collect wealth and power like the dusty old books on these shelves.
It cost me a fortune to get this office exactly how I wanted. But if it were to burn down, I could buy it all over again.
Everything except for that box.
“You really think they’re going through with it?” I hear Daniel, my brother, before I see him. The memories fade in an instant and my heart beat races faster than the tick tock of that fucking clock.
It takes a second for me to be conscious of my facial expression, to relax it and let go of the anger before I can raise my gaze to his.
“With the war and the deal? You think he’ll go through with it?” he clarifies.
A small huff leaves me, accompanied by a smirk, “He wants this more than anything else,” I answer him.
Daniel stalks into the room slowly, the heavy door to my office closing with a soft kick of his heel before he comes to stand across from me.
“And you’re sure you want to be right in the middle of it?”
I lick my lower lip and stand from my desk, stretching as I do and turning my gaze to the window in my office. I can hear Daniel walking around the desk as I lean against it and cross my arms.
Those Boys Are Trouble Page 80
