DARKEST: A DARK BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE (The Boyne Club Book 3)

by Vi Carter

  “My name is Scarlett. I’m twenty-one years old and I love the color green. Not mint green, or light green.” She shakes her head. “I like the green you’d find at the bottom of a blade of grass. The green that no one would ever put on their walls. I like that green. I hate birds and I’ve always wanted to let off those lanterns in the sky at night time, like they do in China.” She steps closer to me and I try to control my beating heart.

  “This moment, right now, is my choice. So please, don’t take it from me.” She leans in and presses her lips against mine. I don’t want to kiss her back. I don’t want to give her that kind of control over me, yet my lips move under hers and my hands go to her waist. Her flesh is warm under my touch and it doesn’t feel right to let her lead. Her kisses are soft and I taste her tears as the water pounds my back. I want to take her hard against the wall but she’s demanding something slower under her terms, and I resign myself to give her that much. Her small hand cups my face, dragging me closer to her and I pause our kiss so I can look into her blue eyes.

  “Scarlett.” I try her name out and it’s funny, but it suits her. When I press my lips against hers she kisses me back and I already notice the shift between us. It’s something deeper than flesh and I’m ready to step away from her. To step away from this. Her other hand reaches in and touches my cock and I lose myself in her touch. She strokes it and I reach out and touch the shower tiles. Blood drips off my face and hits the white tiles under our feet. I know I should try to stop the wound from bleeding but her touch is weakening me. Her strokes grow faster and I don’t want to cum so easily, but I don’t move. I give her whatever it is she needs from me right now. The loss of her hand has me looking at her. She’s staring up at me, her hand cups one side of my face, her fingers tighten on my beard. The way she looks at me makes my heart pound faster. I have no idea if she wants to fuck me or kill me. I’m way too fucking pumped to see which it is.

  Her anger ignites something in me that recognizes it.

  “Say my name again.” Her red lips move and I reach for her, wanting her closer, but she takes a step away from me while releasing my beard.

  My cock throbs with a want for her.

  “Scarlett,” I say her name.

  “Lie down.”

  Gladly. My body aches and standing is a chore. I lie down on the cold tiles. The water beats down on top of my chest, the warm water pours off me. Scarlett steps over me, her legs either side of my body and when she moves down, she grabs my cock and places it at her entrance.

  It’s my turn to gasp as she sits on my cock before rising back up and she starts to ride it. My hands hold her hips, but I don’t guide her. I just let her fuck me. I’m too close to cumming already. I’m watching her body through a spray of water. Her face is twisted in ecstasy, her head is thrown back as she moves faster on my cock. Her whole body rising up, each time I think she’s ready to get off me, she slams back down. My hands tighten on her hips as she continues to pump my cock. I want to take control, I want to bend her over but I know I need to allow her to have this. I can fuck her my way later. Her hand touches the tiles as she continues to drag herself up and down my cock.

  She repositions herself until she’s straddling me. Moving forward she moves through the spray, her pussy continues to grind at my cock and I move her body up and down, increasing the speed. Her hands sink into my hair and I’m looking into the bluest eyes I have ever seen. For the first time I don’t see any fear in Scarlett. I just see a beautiful woman who’s fucking me. My cock twitches as she moves down harder and I explode inside her, she cries out her own release and we ride the waves slowly. Her heavy breaths brush against my neck as she collapses on my chest. My hands instantly leave her hips and I wrap my arms around her. I’m dizzy from cumming and every ache I had returns with a vengeance. I have no idea how I’ll get up, but a part of me would die happy here.

  “Scarlett,” I try out her name again.

  “Hmmm.” She’s drifting off. I wonder if she has a concussion from the car crash.

  “Scarlett, don’t fall asleep.”

  She raises her head and looks at me, her eyes have grown sleepy. Her gaze trails across my face. “You’re still bleeding.”

  I’m tempted to touch my head, but I don’t unravel my arms from around her waist. “I know, but could you give me just another minute here? I think I like you in my arms.”

  The smile on her face is slow. “You do?”

  My stomach twists and I have no idea why I like her words so much. I mirror her smile. “I do.”

  She smiles and lies back down taking all that sunshine with her. My hands tighten further on her and the idea of letting her go is something I don’t think I will ever accept. My lips kiss the crown of her head.

  “Don’t fall asleep.” I warn her again. She raises her head off my chest.

  “Yeah, the water is getting cold.” She’s right, it is.

  She’s smiling again. “You need to let me go so I can get up.”

  “Never.” I tell her and her smile shrivels away and the moment we share fades away and the gray of my life pours back in. I don’t want it to end.

  “Never.” She repeats the word with a frown and I have no answer for her, only “Never” and I don’t think she wants to hear that again, so I release her and she gets up.

  “Any chance of helping me up?” I ask. She’s staring down at me with all her perfect curves, before she steps out of the shower. I laugh, staring at the ceiling, as she leaves me bleeding on the ground. I remember waking up in the car to find my seatbelt undone. She hadn’t left me to die. No matter what she thinks, she cares for me and she wants to be here. I just need her to understand why.

  I groan as I roll onto my knees before pulling myself up. Pain strikes my head and I close my eyes. Swaying, I brace against the wall.

  “Dean.” Her voice has me smiling against the pain.

  “I thought you left me to bleed to death,” I say while keeping my eyes closed.

  “If you die, then so do I.”

  I open my eyes and she wavers before my vision rights itself. Her eyes are slowly filling up with anger, but it’s not as heavy as it normally is.

  I leave the shower while holding onto the wall, and she watches me.

  “Sit down.” She points at the toilet and it feels like it's miles away. I manage to get to it. A warm towel is thrown across my shoulders. Scarlett has wrapped herself in a towel and she kneels in between my legs.

  “I think I like you there,” I say, while trying to stay conscious.

  “This might sting.” Her warning comes with agony and I tighten my fists to stay still.

  I’m fucking awake now. “Jesus Christ.” I grit and she stops. “Don’t stop.” I open my eyes and see fear that’s started to tinge her eyes. “Don’t stop.” I repeat and she continues to clean my face, the stinging subsides slowly and I observe her as she works on my cut.

  She has a freckle close to her right eye and I find myself wanting to kiss it. She bites her bottom lip, turning it red against her pale skin. Her eyelashes are dark and long, they shoot up as she looks into my eyes. My stomach twists and it’s an odd sensation.

  “Sing for me.” Her eyes flutter closed and she shuts me out. I close my own eyes and let her work on my wound. Her fingers work quickly and softly. Then she starts to sing and it’s haunting.

  Nobody left, no calling birds.

  The world departed, where is God?

  Your taunts arise, on deaf ears they fall,

  What is left? Is this truly all?

  Move one step, take two back,

  raw throat, a broken heart.

  Who will cry? Oh, cry for me.

  Landscape broken, set me free.

  Freedom given, the price you pay.

  No turning back, not today.

  I can’t look away from Scarlett as she sings, tears blur her eyes and her lips turn down as she continues to sing.

  What to do? What to say?

  One more cha
nce, today’s the day.

  Rest your head, the sun will shine,

  upon your face, you are divine.

  Goodbye to you, you’re sadly missed.

  I will cry, I grant your wish.

  A wish bestowed the day you died,

  Oh young man, here comes the tide.

  Don’t you worry, I’ll always be there.

  Hands in hands, I’ll treat them fair.

  I’ll watch upon the ones you love,

  Don’t you worry, fly, white dove.

  Soar high, among the clouds.

  But don’t forget, to come back down.

  Give guidance, a ray of light.

  A small gesture, a touch so light.

  Always cherished, always there,

  our love for you will never falter,

  this I swear.

  She ends on a long sad note and my heart is beating rapidly. It’s her ability to tell a story with her voice that has blown me away. There is also something personal in what she sang to me.

  “Is that your song?” I ask when she pushes a bandage against my head.

  “Yes.” Her gaze flickers to mine and her cheeks heat up.

  “You wrote it?”

  Her lips tighten together and she nods before speaking. “Yeah.”

  She tapes the bandage before sitting back. “I think that should work.” I didn't care about my head.

  “Who’s it about?” I want to know about Scarlett.

  “A neighbor who took his life and left his children behind.”

  “Did you know him well?” Why am I getting jealous? Why did I want him to die all over again?

  “I used to babysit for him.” She stands up and I can see the upset in her eyes.

  “If I died, would you write a song for me?”

  She stares at me before tightening her towel around her. “No.” Is her answer as she leaves the bathroom.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SCARLETT

  I think Dean will feature in all my future songs, but I will never tell him that. I’m smiling as I enter our room and start to take the new clothes from the bags. He had gone shopping for me. I love the soft material on my skin. There is a moment that I feel something that resembles happiness, but, I know that that’s wrong. I shouldn’t feel that emotion. It didn’t belong in the chaos of this place.

  Dean enters the room naked and I can’t take my eyes off him. His body is powerful. My stomach tightens and it’s not just with pleasure, but fear. Fear that I am starting to feel something for someone who kidnapped me. I need to keep reminding myself of that fact. His heavy dark eyes land on me as he pulls on boxers and then a pair of combat trousers.

  “Not even a bad one?” He asks.

  “What?” I have no idea what he is talking about. Had I missed something?

  “Wouldn’t you even write a bad song about me?”

  He is getting hung up on this and I am secretly enjoying it. He wants me to write a song about him.

  “I don’t know Dean, I’d need to know more about you.” I don’t smile—I want to—when a look of concentration crosses his handsome face. He nods and pulls on a jumper.

  “Okay, Scarlett.”

  I’m surprised when he walks up to me and places a kiss on my lips. “Put on your jacket.”

  I’m already shrinking back. I don’t want to go outside. Bad things happen when we do.

  “Put on your jacket.” He repeats before leaving the room.

  I finish getting dressed and pick up the army jacket he had purchased for me. I have no idea how afraid I should be. Had he changed his mind about keeping me? Is he going to let me go?

  Never.

  I shiver and walk to the kitchen where he waits for me. He’s dressed for the outdoors. A small backpack sits on the counter along with a larger one. My stomach squeezes. What is this?

  Dean walks to me and I don’t move as he pushes a black wooly cap onto my head.

  “Let’s go.” He grabs the packs and like an obedient dog I follow. He covers the keypad, but I listen to the very distinct sound each digit makes. Four digits. My stomach quivers as the suction from the door sends a shiver racing across my skin. We leave the comfort of the bunker and climb the stairs.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I ask, my hand reaching for my neck. I want my pendant. Saliva pools in my mouth and I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. My body feels heavier as I climb the steps. My fists tighten as I think about what he keeps doing. I want to scream, ‘Just do it already!’

  We reach upstairs.

  “No.” His answer is abrupt as he stops in what must be a living space. It’s void of everything. There are only four walls, two large windows, and a door that leads out into the hallway.

  “This would be a beautiful room.” He’s glancing around the space, and I suppose it would be, but my interior design mode isn’t exactly kicking in. I want to know what is in the long bag. I think it’s a sword. He’s going to cut me up. Dean’s dark eyes land on me and my heart rate escalates. He takes a step closer to me.

  “You look pale.” He frowns, like he can’t for the life of him understand why.

  “What’s in the bag?” I point at it and his eyes skip to the army green bag on the ground.

  “You’ll see.” He looks unsure as he scoops it up and I follow him outside. A bird flies above us as I watch it fly away. I want to scream at it to come back and let me escape with it.

  “You want me to kill him?”

  Dean is watching me. “What?”

  “You hate birds. Do you want me to kill it?”

  I glance at the bird as it gets farther away and I hope it never stumbles across Dean. “It’s only a bird. I’m afraid of it, that doesn’t mean I want it dead,” I say looking at Dean.

  “Are you a tree hugger?” He hoists the sword bag up on his shoulder.

  “Are we chopping down trees?”

  His laughter makes all the hairs rise on my body. It’s so unexpected and I’m transfixed on him.

  “No, we aren’t. Come on.” He holds out his hand for me to take and I stuff my hands into my pockets. He isn’t offended as he starts walking to the tree line.

  Don’t go into the forest with him, Scar, I warn myself. Every crazy serial killer chops up his victims in the forest. I swallow, maybe not all, but Dean isn’t stable. How many other bodies litter the floor under my feet?

  He’s whistling and I’m ready to bolt when he stops and turns to me. He drops one bag and moves the sword one to the front. He unzips it and I’m screaming at myself to move as he pulls out a long black rifle. It is the same one I had seen him use on the roof of the building. The day he had killed the jogger. The day my life changed.

  He strokes it like it’s a pet and my abdomen tightens.

  “The first time I held a rifle, I was terrified, but it also gave me such a sense of peace.” He holds it now and looks through the lens before glancing up at me. “My mind is silent when I do this; it’s the only time I really feel peace.”

  “By taking a life?” I question.

  He smiles again and my heart jumps. “Funny, isn't it?”

  No.

  He holds out the gun for me. “Hold it.”

  I’m ready to step away, but I think twice, he’s handing me a gun. The moment I grip it, his smile widens. “Don’t try to shoot me, Scarlett.”

  I pull the gun but he doesn’t release it, his fingers brush mine. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I don’t want you to hurt me either.”

  My heart pounds against my chest. Was this a truce for now? I would be stupid to say no.

  “Of course.” His laughter makes me frown, it sends waves rippling across my skin.

  “I don’t believe you,” he says, but releases the gun. The rifle is heavy and I look down the slick barrel. I look up from the gun and he comes fully into focus. He’s opening the backpack and takes out a green roll that he places on the ground. His eyes move up to me and I hold the rifle pointing at his chest. My heart beats to
o fast and blood roars in my ears as my finger dances over the trigger.

  He’s looking at me and there is no fear but disappointment in his eyes. Would he have handed me a loaded gun? Think Scarlett—gain his trust and don’t be stupid. I move the gun away from his chest and look through it again.

  “It’s cool,” I say, looking up at him.

  He’s still watching me. “You should never point a gun at someone unless you intend to kill them.”

  I swallow and nod. “Okay.” I feel the loss immediately when he removes the rifle from my hands and I wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake by not shooting him.

  “Lie down.” He points at the plastic green roll on the ground. My chest tightens. Is he going to kill me now? I’m picturing my dead body being rolled up in the plastic.

  I’m ready to plead when he lies down on the plastic. “It keeps our clothes clean.” He glances back at me, and I blink tears that I quickly wipe away, as I try to stop my heart from ripping out of my chest. I lie down beside him. The heat of his body has me moving closer. He isn’t going to kill me. More tears fill my eyes and I try to focus and not make a sound as he sets up the rifle.

  “I used to spend hours lying still and waiting for the perfect shot. I’ve always liked my own company. I can be pretty funny.” He glances at me and grins, but his smile leaves his face.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “I thought you were going to cut me up and wrap me in the plastic,” I answer, and wipe my face.

  His eyes roam across my face. “No. I’m just showing you what I like to do. You wanted to get to know me.”

  I look out into the trees. He is staring at me like I am making up stories. Like he didn’t kidnap me and try to shoot me before.

  “Okay.” I manage to squeeze out and the rifle appears in front of me.

  He shuffles closer and moves one hand over the rifle, the other he places close to the trigger. “Relax your shoulder.” His breath fans out across my cheek. I turn and my lips nearly brush his—he’s that close.