Chapter Ten
Willow
That dumb, arrogant, American asshole. Good god he knows how to piss me off. I couldn’t help but act the way I did a few minutes ago. If he really wants to play with fire then I’ll let him, and I’ll be a damn brat the entire time too. I don’t get it, why does he even want to get close to me? Is it because I’m sort of forbidden fruit to him? Back in Australia he flirted a tiny bit with me at best, and now that we’re both in London, it’s like someone’s lit a fire under his ass.
I just fucking wish he had a fire lit under his ass back then. He’s the kind of man I’d love to date, the type that is cocky and arrogant but also caring. I haven’t dated anyone in years…not since my ex was killed. The thought hurt too much, and now here I am, wanting something with a man who I’m not supposed to be with. He’s not the good Romanian man that my father wants for me, that is somehow supposed to help me become this Mafia princess or what have it.
The only thing I want is to be back in Australia, baking up delicious desserts for the people of Melbourne.
Duncan may think that he’ll come out on top, but he won’t. After all, I’m a bitch who loves to ride. If anything, I’ll be on top of him, and I’ll damn well show him that. I place my hands below me and sit up on the top of my bed, wondering why the heck I’m so attracted to Duncan in the first place. He was hot when I knew him as the techy guy, and now he’s just smoldering as my protective detail. Even though I hate being babysat by him, I can’t help but need to cross my legs just to take away the ache.
My phone starts to ring on my bedside table, and I get up and grab it, smiling when I see my friend, Emilie’s name pop up. “Hey!”
“Hey there girl. I thought you were abducted or something the way you fell off the face of the Earth. No one’s heard from you in days, and we were starting to get a little worried.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely fine. I uh, took a vacation to England,” I stammer out, realizing that there’s no way in hell I can explain what actually happened to me. My friends in Australia know nothing about my father, or his ties to the Clans.
Emilie makes a shocked gasp into the receiver, “If I’m remembering correctly, didn’t you tell me that we’d have to drag you back to England to ever get you back on that muddy soil?” Emilie tries to fake a British accent, but our accents are so much different than the Aussies. She’s repeated me word for word, and she’s not wrong.
“I had a change of heart,” I mutter out. Emilie makes a questionable sound, almost like she’s trying to call my bullshit. Trying to not have her ask too many questions, I think of the one thing that will make her shut up and not ask anymore. “My father is dying, Em. It could be any day. I don’t know. We don’t know. It’s really…touch and go.”
“Oh my word. I’m so sorry, Will. Can I do anything for you? I know that your relationship with him isn’t the greatest. Oh god, what can I do?”
“Can you go by Delish and make sure everything is okay, check in on my baby until I get back?” I ask lowly, a gut-wrenching feeling hitting me heavy in my stomach. I miss home, and even though I grew up here in England, I don’t look at it like home. That may sound sad, but having so many negative experiences here didn’t help. It never did.
“Of course I can. You just le-” Suddenly my cell phone is being ripped from my hand, and the next thing I know Duncan has his hand wrapped around it and throws it against the wood floors. I hear the glass crack into a million pieces. Meanwhile, I begin to boil with rage.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” I scream, throwing up my hands in the air with all of my might.
“I could ask you the same thing. Do you realize phones are a fucking pinging beacon!? I didn’t even know you still had it. If I did I would’ve done that a long time ago.”
“You’re buying me a new one, asshole,” I hiss out, staring at my broken phone on the floor.
“Willow, you need to understand that your old life is over. You don’t have your bakery anymore. You have this life, filled with the good and the bad. You need to prepare yourself for that now and stop believing you’re going back to Australia.” The way it comes out of his mouth is so callous and cold, which makes me wonder if I even really know anything about the man who stands before me. I’m sure that mostly everything he told me was nothing but a completely fabricated lie.
“You’re buying me a new phone, Asshole!” I repeat myself, glaring at him. All of my emotions come barreling through me. The only things I feel are hurt mixed with anguish and loss. I’ve felt loss before, but never anything quite like this.
Duncan throws himself on top of me so that my back is pressed against my mattress, and his entire body weight is weighing me down. I feel how hard he is against me, and it takes everything in me not to wiggle my hips and egg him on.
I shouldn’t want this.
I shouldn’t want him.
Not because he’s American, but because of all the betrayal. It’s the only thing I’m confident in when it comes to Duncan. I can’t trust him.
Chapter Eleven
Duncan
It’s been two whole days since our heated debacle. I’ve been staying as far away as I can from her. My mind is fucked, twisted even. I may not be near her, but I have my eyes all over her, watching her every damned move. I sit back in my chair ,overviewing the monitors and wonder what the hell it is about her that sparks the fire in me alive. Sure, she was hot enough in Australia, and I came to care for her. Here, she’s almost like a completely different person. She isn’t still the same Willow. She’s become guarded, rageful, and full of spirit. I’m not complaining; it just adds to the list of things that make me attracted to her.
I’m not what Kristof wants for her. It’s blatantly obvious. I’m not Romanian, which means that I’d never be deemed as a suitable match for her. I lean back in my chair, tilting my head behind me and think hard on it. All we have is a good bit of sexual tension. I’m sure once we get it out of the air things will calm down. I smirk to myself, happy that I’ve finally figured out what to do. Willow and I just need to get this sexual tension out of the way. It’ll make my job a hell of a lot easier, and her mood will cheer up. She may even stop butting heads with me, which would be a plus.
There’s one thing I’m certain of. Willow will come to me. I won’t have to chase her down.
A few hours pass and I’m tired of being stuck in the surveillance room. Surprisingly enough, she’s stayed within the walls of the townhouse today. I haven’t had to run out the door and chase her down after one of her escape plans. I walk into the dining room and see Willow kneeling down on the floor in front of the cabinet where I know Kristof keeps the liquor. He’s a creature of habit and has kept it in the same spot for as long as I’ve worked for him. I’m sure it was here when she was a child as well.
“What on Earth are you doing?” I ask her, cocking an eyebrow and staring down at her.
She rolls her eyes and huffs, “Looking for alcohol, obviously. He must’ve moved it. I can’t find a drop.”
“Not surprised. Pretty sure he can’t have any with his medications. I think he got rid of all the liquor.” I vaguely remember Kristof asking James to get rid of anything in the house with alcohol in it. He’s in no way shape or form an alcoholic, but does love a glass of brandy. Those medicines must have some pretty awful side effects if he did get rid of it all. I don’t think he would, though. There must be a secret stash somewhere around here.
Willow puts her hands over her face and sighs, breathing heavily for a few moments. When she takes her hands away from her face I can see that her eyes are red and a bit puffy. Has she been crying? More importantly, why has she been crying? “I could really use a drink right now, Duncan.”
“That’s obvious,” I retort, not even realizing how much of a dick I sound like until it’s already out of my mouth. “You could just order me to find you some booze.”
She furrows her brows, and I see a small smile break through for just a moment. I
only said it to fuck with her, but seeing that she just got out of her head makes me feel good.
“Fine. Go fulfill your task.” She waves her hand up in dismissal, and I walk around the house, looking for wherever Kristof stashed some. After looking for a good twenty minutes, I head for the last place in the house where I believe he’d have some – his study. I knock on the door quietly and enter when I don’t hear anything. As soon as I’m inside, I see him dozed off in his wheelchair. Instead of disturbing him, I walk around the room, looking in cabinets and on shelves for any type of liquor.
“What’re you up to?” Kristof asks, startling me.
I look over from where I’m crouching, “Willow wanted some liquor, and I can’t find an ounce of it in here. She seems a bit upset, so I’m not going to put up a fight.”
“Good on you. Today is a hard day for her, I imagine,” he murmurs, sparking my interest.
I stand, looking down at the old man in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”
“Today is the anniversary of her mother’s death. I’m sure she’d want a drink, today of all days. I have a bottle of vodka in my desk, everything else was tossed.”
I nod at him, walking towards his desk and open the bottom drawer, yanking out the bottle of vodka he told me about. “Thank you, domn. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
He laughs, “No. She won’t. Don’t even bother telling her where you got it or how you found it. Willow hates me. I can’t blame her for that.”
“I doubt she hates you. Families are always complicated. In my years, no matter if you live in a trailer or a mansion, I have seen that. Family is complicated. I sincerely doubt that she holds any sort of hatred for you, Kristof. I think she is just hurting and doesn’t know how to process it all.” I don’t know where my words come from. I have no facts and only what I feel in my gut. Luckily, my gut has never really been wrong.
“You may be right,” he says to me.
I shrug, “Yeah. Maybe. I’m going to go deliver the liquid courage to your Princess.” I head towards the door and place my hand on it, turning the knob, and just as I start to step out, Kristof speaks up. “Duncan, thank you for everything you’re doing for her.”
I turn my head back towards him, “It’s my job, think nothing of it.”
I go back into the dining area and don’t see Willow there, so I check a few more rooms before I head upstairs to her bedroom. Sure enough, she’s sitting on the edge of her bed with her knees drawn to her chest. I know she hears me but doesn’t bother to look in my direction.
I shut the door behind me and walk up to her, handing the bottle of vodka over. She runs the palm of her hand across her lips and looks up at me, her expression showing me how grateful she is.
“What can I do?” My question comes out before I even have time to think. I should just leave her be; it’d be the right thing to do. Especially while she’s so emotional, but I can’t. I can’t fucking do that because I know Willow, and every bone inside my body is telling me that the last thing she wants to do is be alone right now.
She unscrews the bottle of vodka and brings it to her lips, taking a few big gulps and then coughs. “Just…stay.” She folds her arms around herself more securely, and every instinct inside of me is telling me that I need to hold her, make her feel safe, wrap her in my arms. But then reality sets in, and I think about all the cameras in her damn room and about how the gossip would run amongst the staff. Is it bad that I don’t give a shit, that I want them to talk? Fuck.
I know where each camera is in her room, strategically placed so that no angle is left out of sight. Part of me wants to cover them up, but in doing that, it’ll expose to her that we have our eyes on her constantly, and I can’t risk that. Fighting every urge for privacy, I walk over to her, sit behind her on the bed, and wrap my arms around her. She stiffens for a moment, neither of us ever having this much physical contact.
I pull her body close to mine, feeling the way her body rises and falls with each breath she takes. Neither of us say a word, instead we sit in the silence and she drinks more of the vodka straight from the bottle until I suddenly feel her hiccupping. I think she’s drank too fast, but when her tears hit my forearm, I realize that she’s been sobbing in my arms.
Fuck.
Willow tilts her body towards me and stares into my eyes, showing me that she wants something, but doesn’t say it. I fucking know what she wants, and I want it too. Just not like this. She wraps her hand around the base of my throat and pulls my lips down towards hers, our lips sparking together like a volt of electricity. The girl fires me up, every part of me comes alive. I take my arms around her body and turn her more towards me, needing to feel her sweet lips pressed against my cock. She kneels down over me, and my cock is pressing against her center; even though we’re clothed she feels fucking amazing.
Our lips don’t break from one another, and I snake one of my hands up into the back of her hair, tugging harshly. She lets out a small whimper, and I chuckle into our kiss. Willow rolls her hips, egging me on. She knows exactly what it is that she’s doing, playing with fire.
I bring my hand down between her legs, running my fingertips over her lips. She squirms and soft little sounds spill from her lips into mine. She wants it, and I’m going to give it to her. Moving my fingers from the outside of her leggings, I go under the band and run my hand along her smooth skin until I’m between her lips, my index finger teasing that incredibly wet clit of hers. She’s soaked, primed and ready for me. I could rip her leggings and shove my cock deep inside her, making her scream in pure ecstasy. It’s what I want to do, but I won’t. This isn’t about me right now. Only one of us matters, and it’s her.
My fingers dive up into her center, pressing firmly against her g-spot, I fuck her with my hand. Her wetness grows, mews turning to moans, body shivering against me. I can feel how close she is. Ripping my lips from hers, I jerk her hair, pulling her ear against my lips. “Come for me, little girl. I want it, all of your sweet little wetness on my hand, and then I want to lick it clean.”
Willow shoots into her orgasm, spilling with sweetness all over my hand. I fuck her violently with my fingers, her juices continue to flood over me until she’s panting against my chest, clinging onto me for dear life.
As promised, I pull my hand from her and wrap my tongue around every finger, licking her sweetness from my hand. “I could get used to this,” I admit to her, and she smiles. Not one of those fake smiles that I’ve seen her do in front of a customer at the shop, but a fully authentic one.
“I want your cock inside of me.”
“You’ll have it,” I say, but what I’m really telling her is that she’s going to have anything she wants from me. How will I ever say no to her?
Chapter Twelve
Willow
I feel like a child with the way I’ve been avoiding Duncan the last week. Maybe I am one, or maybe I regret every part of our exchange last week. He was there for me on the worst day that I have every year – the day my mother died. The day that I lost the most important person in my life, the one who I knew loved and cared for me more then anyone. When she died, I felt lost. I felt like there was no purpose in my life, and for a time, I wish that I had died with her. I didn’t know how to cope with life without her. For a long time, it was such a struggle, and then I fell in love with pastries and how to make them. One day my life had no purpose without my mother, and the next I found meaning in a sweet treat. I laugh to myself thinking about it, I’m sure my mother was watching me from heaven and sent me a dessert to give me meaning. She’d find the humor in something like that.
The more I think about it, the more I regret what happened. What I allowed to happen. Sure I was emotional and having a very rough day, but I shouldn’t have let it happen…I should have had more self control. I shake my head, telling myself that there is nothing going on between Duncan and I. There is nothing behind it. I’m just being rebellious and testing my boundaries. Yep. I’m just being a pl
ain old brat. Plus, how could I even trust him? I can’t, it’s plain and simple as that. I stand up from the chair I was sitting on in the garden and overlook the flowers, walking along the perimeter. My father’s corgis decide to walk alongside me, and for a split second, I have a distraction from the one thing that plagues my mind – Duncan. Until I’m thinking about him yet again.
Duncan freaking lied to me, and not only did he fabricate everything that I thought I knew about him…but he kidnapped me. He freaking KIDNAPPED me and dragged me halfway across the world, back to the U.K. How could I even entertain the idea of having feelings for him when he’s done this shit to me already? I don’t have feelings for Duncan. I have feelings about the idea of Duncan, or any sort of Duncan. He’s no prince in shining armor, and I deserve so much better than a liar. That’s for damn sure. There has been enough lying in my life, and I don’t need any more of it.
“It’s time to get going.” His voice startles me enough to make me jump in my place. Lucy, the girl corgi, barks at him and growls. I laugh at her, trying to be my fearless protector and bend down to give her a rub.
“Such a good girl,” I say, scratching the top of her head. Brutus, her brother, walks up to me and demands some of his own attention so I show him some love very quickly before I get barked at by the two legged dog standing just a few feet away.
“I’m assuming that my luggage is already prepared and in the SUV,” I state as I glance up to him, and he nods, crossing his arms in front of him. I stand up and walk along the stone path until I’m in the house and heading towards the front door. Duncan is closely behind me, and as I approach the front door, two men exit before me. I’m not used to these new security protocols. There have been even more threats made against the clans ,and everyone is using extreme precautions. It’s not like they hadn’t been before, but it’s grown exponentially worse, and now I’m starting to realize just how serious this is. Even if I wasn’t here in the U.K. I’d be undergoing the same risk back in Australia.
Anguish Page 30
