Beautiful Sins (The Enemies Trilogy Book 2)

by Piper Lawson

  I reach for the button on my pants, and she lifts her chin, lips parting in anticipation.

  She takes a long drink of champagne, for fun or courage, then holds it out. “You don’t want any?”

  I shake my head. “That’s your reward. You’re mine.”

  22

  Rae

  When I got the official word that I won the fan vote spot at Wild Fest, I had a mini meltdown. I’m not a girl who’s used to getting what she wants. The fact that I had to work my ass off for it only made it sweeter.

  Harrison King, on the other hand, knows exactly how to get what he wants.

  From the second I walked in and spotted him, his gorgeous face tight and his expression intent, it was clear he wanted me.

  He shifts me up onto the desk, stepping between my thighs and squeezing my ass.

  My pulse races. There’s a fine line between thrill and danger, one made sharper by the look in his eyes.

  The man might actually be an animal.

  He cups my breast in one large hand, the coarseness through the lace I wore for him feeling so damn good. I’m suddenly aware of tradespeople working outside.

  “Is this room soundproof?”

  Harrison’s grin is wicked as he shrugs out of his jacket and strips off his shirt. “You have a problem with anyone hearing you, you’re going to have to stay quiet.”

  My attention drags to his beautiful body, all angles and ripples of muscle. If I did have a problem, he’d stop. But I’ve already faced down one fear. This is a celebration of that, a way to show myself I can take more.

  Until he shifts closer, rubbing his impressive erection against me through the lace and the fabric of his pants. He takes my other breast too, his fingers and thumbs rolling my nipples, and my head falls back.

  “Oh, shit.” The words spilling from my lips only make him twist harder. Heat drags a line from my breasts to my core, where I’m already wet.

  “Beautiful girl.” It’s a praise and a taunt at once, and when his lips claim mine, I moan into his mouth. Most of the time, the difference in our ages and experience falls away when we’re together. But once in awhile, he reminds me.

  Like the commanding way he says, “Lie down.”

  Harrison reaches for the champagne, holding it over my reclined body. My stomach tightens as he tips it over and…

  I hiss out a breath as it hits my breast, cold on my already peaked nipple. His mouth is there the next second, sucking roughly through the damp lace in a way that makes my thighs shake.

  “The desk—”

  “Christening it, and you.”

  “Like a boat?” I taunt. “You hate boats.”

  He retaliates by dropping fizzing champagne in my belly button and sucking it up. It tickles and thrills at once, and my legs wrap around his hips on instinct.

  Next between my legs. The cold makes me jerk, but his hot mouth is there to lick it up.

  When he drags off his pants and black boxer briefs, he steps back. “You trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  He pins my wrists over my head and my body tenses instinctively at the feeling of being restrained and helpless. But the look on his face tells me I’m safe with him, that he’d take on the world for me.

  “I don’t take that for granted one goddamned second, Raegan.”

  My heart skips a beat.

  He yanks my thong to the side, sinking two fingers inside my wet core.

  The grip on my wrist doesn’t relent. After a few pumps of his fingers that build the ache inside me, I’m grateful he’s holding me down. Otherwise, I might float off into space.

  “You’re beautiful, and you’re mine,” he rasps, bending close to run his lips along my neck, my jaw. “Today. Tomorrow. No matter what. Tell me you want that.”

  His thumb presses down on my clit, fingers still playing with me, and I explode under his hands.

  “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

  Harrison soaks up every second of my reaction with blazing eyes and tight body.

  “How is it possible that every time we finish, I want more?” I pant.

  “You saying you’re not satisfied?” We both know he’s joking, because I’ve probably had more orgasms since meeting him than I had in my life before.

  “I’m saying you’re turning me into a monster.”

  He strokes down my cheek, eyes softening. “We’ll be monsters together, love.”

  He’s dragging my thighs apart to shift between them when my phone goes off on the desk near my head.

  “Ignore it,” he growls, playing with me as he strokes his hard length, preparing to fuck me.

  I do, but it rings again a moment later.

  Frustration fills me and I grab for the phone, meaning to switch it to silent, but when I see the name I suck in a breath.

  “I have to get this.”

  “Don’t.”

  There’s an edge to his quick response that’s more than irritation, but I push on Harrison’s bare chest until he lets me up.

  “It’s my brother.”

  “What happened to the honeymoon?” I ask Kian when he shows me to a private office at the end of the long hallway of his medical practice.

  I haven’t been here since he opened it more than five years ago. The standalone building is shiny and new looking, with a cheery yellow waiting room and a perky receptionist.

  “I had to wrap up some things here before we left, so I planned a week in between.” He reaches into the bar fridge and pulls out a water, holding it up. I shake my head, and he opens it, taking a long drink.

  “My wife told me you gave us a very generous gift,” he goes on, though the small talk feels awkward. “You’re my little sister. You didn’t need to do that.”

  “It was my pleasure.” I recall the check I dashed out and stuck in a card. “So, do you want to tell me what you didn’t want to talk about over the phone?”

  His brows knit together as he shifts a hip against the large desk holding a monitor, notebook computer, and reams of files. “I got a call from Zach. He’s been arrested. Technically, it was a call from his lawyer, who wanted to talk to a few of his friends. Sounds like there are multiple charges. Sexual assault. Possession of pornography of underaged women. Girls,” he amends.

  The blood drains from my head.

  The floor tilts under my feet, and I press a hand to my stomach as if it’ll stop the sudden lightheadedness.

  “I just finished meeting with his lawyer, and your name came up.”

  He swallows once, again, as if forming words takes an unusual amount of energy. “Did something happen with Zach?”

  “I’ll take that water.”

  He listens while I explain what happened ten years ago. I expected it to be impossible, but I’ve told Harrison and Annie, and the practice seems to have made it easier.

  “Raegan, I don’t know what to say.” He rubs both hands over his face.

  “Mom and Dad didn’t want to deal with it. I heard them arguing about it. Mom was pissed, but Dad said no one would take it seriously.”

  “I didn’t know what the problem was, but I saw the guilt eat at them whenever I visited,” he admits.

  “How close are you and Zach?”

  Kian straightens, his face a mask of agony and disbelief. “He stood up for me, but now… I don’t know how I’ll look him in the eye again.”

  “Dr. Madani?” The receptionist is at the door, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you wanted me to keep you on schedule.”

  “I’ll be right there.” He nods, and she looks between us before walking back down the hall. “What do you need from me, Rae?”

  “You didn’t have my back then. Have it now.”

  The emotions swirling in me as I leave are less about what happened then and more about processing the news that Zach’s been arrested.

  There’s no way Zachary Whelan went from a career to a future in a jail cell, or that he did something that got him caught in the last few days after a decade. I don’t beli
eve in coincidence when Harrison King is concerned.

  It was Harrison. It must have been. He’s the only thing that’s changed in this equation.

  Was he waiting for updates while we were fucking in his office? What about in New York, the night before my show? Had he already put this in motion?

  When I head over to Harrison’s place, I’m remembering how he said we aren’t like normal people. The reminder of how easily he can wield that power and for whatever he wants hits me like a bucket of ice.

  23

  Harrison

  As I pull up to the building, my phone rings with a number from Spain.

  “Christian,” I say when I answer. “What a pleasant surprise. We’re not due to talk for another three days.”

  I toss my keys to the valet as Christian’s cough comes over the line. “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

  I stride through the door held by the doorman and straight into my elevator.

  “I’m selling La Mer to Mischa.”

  My grip tightens on the phone. “What did he offer? I’ll match it,” I go on as the elevator reaches the top floor and the bell dings.

  “It’s not a price you can match.” His voice wavers. “It’s over, Harrison.”

  I force myself out into my penthouse condo, standing in the middle of the entryway in front of the mirror.

  The luxe backdrop blurs. Nothing matters except the man on the other end of the phone.

  “You wanted me to investigate my parents as a way to bide time and run up Mischa’s bid.”

  “No. I wanted to give you the chance to prove your parents weren’t duplicitous.”

  I don’t believe him. “From the moment I rejected your offer of La Mer in exchange for marrying your daughter, you weren’t intending to sell to me.”

  I pace the hall, my voice rising.

  “This isn’t about honor, Christian. It’s about money and pride.” My laugh is humourless. “You and Ivanov deserve one another.”

  There’s a beat of silence, then a second, before he clicks off.

  I stare at the mirror.

  Even if I was focused on the club here, it was all in service of winning La Mer. Now, I’ve lost the thing that mattered most.

  I slam my fist into the glass.

  Rae

  I’m standing in the bathroom freshening up, waiting for Harrison to return and trying to deal with Whelan’s arrest.

  I need to know if he’s behind it. If he is, I’m not sure how to feel. On one hand, I’m grateful Whelan is being forced to account for his crime—crimes, if what Kian says is true.

  But having my business handled so neatly by another person leaves me feeling a different kind of exposed.

  The sound of the door jerks me out of my thoughts.

  Harrison’s speaking to someone on the phone.

  “…wanted me to investigate my parents as a way to bide time and run up Mischa’s bid.”

  He’s speaking with Christian.

  I’m about to make my presence known when Harrison’s angry voice comes down the hall.

  “From the moment I rejected your offer of La Mer in exchange for marrying your daughter, you weren’t intending to sell to me.”

  What the fuck?

  His next words are drowned out by the buzzing in my ears.

  Christian wanted Harrison to marry his daughter? The woman he showed around town? That’s what Leni was talking about him sacrificing for me.

  The sound of breaking glass jars me out of my thoughts.

  I trip down the hall to the entry and living room.

  “Harrison!”

  He’s not here.

  Fear rises up my throat.

  A scraping noise from the huge deck has my head snapping around. I run to the glass door and drag it open.

  Harrison is the stiffest person ever to grace a lounge chair. He stares out over the skyline, no jacket, sleeves rolled up.

  His hands fall to his sides. That’s when I see the white kitchen towel wrapped around his knuckles, the rusty stains seeping through.

  “Shit, Harrison! What happened?”

  I drop to my knees at his side.

  “Christian sold La Mer to Mischa.” The words are low and brittle. “I’ve been trying to find evidence to exonerate my parents—in London and before. But it was all a ruse to run up Mischa’s bid. It’s over. Everything I’ve fought for the past decade is gone.”

  His agony shreds me. I’ve seen him furious, controlling. I’ve seen him caring, wanting. I’ve never seen him broken.

  “But why would Christian give you all this time to prove yourself, then go back on his word at the last minute?”

  “I offended his pride.”

  I shift over his lap, straddling him. “Does this have to do with turning down his offer of La Mer in exchange for marrying his daughter?”

  Surprise flares in his eyes that I know. “Yes.”

  “That’s fucked up,” I breathe.

  “His offer or the fact that I declined it?”

  “Both.” What kind of twisted shit is it that a man would trade his daughter for a property? I think of meeting Christian, how devoted he seemed to his family. “If he made you the offer, he must have thought you’d accept it. So why didn’t you?”

  Harrison angles his head back against the lounger, looking at me through half-lidded eyes. “You know why.”

  I run my hands over Harrison’s jaw, the unshaven shadow rough against my thumbs.

  “Whelan was arrested today,” I say. “Tell me you had nothing to do with it.”

  His eyes go flat. “He raped you.”

  “I know, I was there,” I retort. “Did you know about his arrest when I came to see you at the club earlier?”

  His nostrils flare, and I have my answer even without him speaking a word.

  “I told you I’m not a perfect man. Sometimes I’m not even a good one. You said you liked that about me.”

  “I like that we’re both imperfect and we can figure things out together,” I argue. “Not that you snap your fingers and make decisions regular people don’t get to make.”

  He shoves out from under me and I nearly fall onto the concrete patio.

  “There was no question about turning down Christian’s offer last summer, just as there was no question about sending Whelan to prison.”

  He stalks to the end of the balcony.

  “Because you always make the right decisions?” I shout after him.

  He turns, the towel falling off his bleeding hand. “Because I fucking love you!” he roars.

  Shock reverberates through my body.

  He stares down at me, daring me to argue with him.

  Harrison King loves me.

  This man who buys and sells property, travels the world, pursues vendettas and does it all in a custom suit to hide behind the pain he’s endured and the enormous pressure he’s put on himself, loves me.

  I cross to him and pick up the towel. Reaching for his hand, I wrap the clean side of the fabric around his knuckles again.

  “I’m glad you didn’t get La Mer from Christian,” I say. “Because then I wouldn’t have you.” My hand slips between the buttons of his shirt, my fingers grazing the scar I know by memory. “People can mark us, but they can’t define us. We can move on and live again and trust again.” You taught me that. “What did Mischa win, really? A pile of concrete built by another man? You’ve taken a warehouse and dreamed it into a place people can be free and feel alive. It’s going to be spectacular. You can make your own legacy as someone who creates, not merely conquers. Tell me you want that.”

  Because if he does, he’ll find a way to get it. This man I fell for without wanting to.

  His chest heaves, his beautiful blue eyes clouded with pain of his own. He reaches down with his good hand to brush a tear I never noticed from my face.

  “I want to want it.”

  The cuff on my wrist catches the light, and when he lifts my hand and presses his lips to my wrist right below t
he bracelet he bought to tell me he wasn’t leaving, I feel a glimmer of hope for him.

  Hope for us.

  24

  Rae

  “Shit. We’re supposed to bring a gift,” I call as I fasten my earrings in front of the powder room mirror.

  “Only if you want to be invited back.”

  “It’s Tyler and Annie’s housewarming. They’re not going to un-friend us, right? And he’s already been living there for ages.”

  I duck into the hall to see Harrison stepping into his shoes at the front door. He looks breathtakingly sexy in dark trousers and a button-down shirt. No jacket.

  It’s a win.

  The past two weeks have been a struggle, but we’re moving forward. I can tell he’s having a difficult time, but he always finds a smile when I’m around. I wish he didn’t try so hard for my sake.

  One piece of good news is that Zachary Whelan is in jail and was denied bail. But thanks to the delays in the planning department, some of the most important renovations at the new club are on hold. It’s eating at Harrison.

  “I have a gift for you,” I inform him as we step into the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor.

  I hold out the notification on my phone.

  “The zoning was approved?”

  “This morning,” I confirm.

  Disbelief fills his handsome face. “How the hell did you get that before I did?”

  “Leni.”

  “Fuck.”

  He crosses to me as the doors open, taking my face between his palms.

  He kisses me, long and deep, before coming up for air.

  “I need to check on the club on the way. Make sure everyone’s on the job working twice as fast.”

  “No, you don’t,” I say quickly, and he grimaces.

  “I’ll pull up the security footage. Just to make sure everything on the exterior is on schedule.”

  As we exit the elevators at the lobby, he reaches for his phone.

  I try to bat it away. “Don’t you trust Leni?”

  His frown is exasperated. “I did until she booked me to give that presentation yesterday to a group of LA entrepreneurs without telling me. It was out of character.”