by Morgan James
He commanded my body and my mind, delivering pleasure in exchange for my submission to him. As sick as it was, I would gladly let him do it over and over if he would fuck me like that again. My hands skated over the tender flesh of my bottom, and I bit my lip as the hot water pelted down on it, reminding me of my spanking.
Even tonight he hadn’t doled out a true punishment. Though he’d spanked me for talking back, it felt more like a test of sorts. I just wasn’t sure I liked what it revealed. Because he was right—I loved the control he wielded over me. I reveled in the way he took me in hand and dominated me. Everyone else in my life had coddled me, handled me with kid gloves because of my parents. But not Fox. He stripped me bare both emotionally and physically to reveal my true desires.
There was no hiding how much I loved those moments, loved the pleasure-pain it brought. I wanted it again. I secretly loved mouthing off to him, watching that fire burn in his eyes, the way they darkened as he took control over me and commanded my body. It was heady, and the sensation was made even stronger by my anger. There was no amiability between us, only revenge and distrust. We fucked like we hated each other, but that hard edge had begun to slip away.
I couldn’t wrap my mind around why he’d chosen to kidnap me. Or keep me. He’d caught me sneaking around his property, yes, but I hadn’t done any damage. In his eyes, though, it was the intent behind my visit. He’d chosen to hold me captive instead of turn me into the authorities. He said it was to avoid any run-ins with them, but I had a feeling there was more to the story. He’d had the opportunity to sell me off to one of his acquaintances, yet he’d declined. Why? It made no sense. Fox was a shrewd man. Why keep me and risk the trouble?
Fox was such an enigma. I was his captive, yet he took every opportunity to care for me. He constantly admonished me for not eating enough or not taking care of myself. After my time spent in the panic room, he’d bathed me, cared for me, made sure I was healthy and hale. It baffled the mind how he could vacillate so easily between the considerate caretaker and the dominant asshole. Like in the kitchen earlier. He’d carried me far away from the broken glass to ensure I wouldn’t be hurt. I found myself wanting to know more about him, to learn everything I could.
What was I thinking? God, I was such an idiot. If I was hurt, he would have to call in Dr. Marlowe to take care of me again. It was an expense and an inconvenience I was sure he wouldn’t welcome. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper written in his actions, that there was far more to Fox than what lay on the surface. I needed to get a handle on my emotions, bury them deep where they would never see the light of day. Fox cared nothing for me except to use me for his own pleasure. Everything beyond that was secondary.
Feeling suddenly cold and miserable, I shut off the shower and toweled off before climbing into bed. He’d said he was intrigued, not that he cared about me. So I would be kept as a fuck toy until he tired of me, then released to my former life? I couldn’t imagine. Already, I could feel how gray and empty my world would be without him. Sadness warred with anger.
One thing remained unchanged. I was still his captive. Though the sex was consensual—I would never deny that—I refused to open any part of my heart to him. I needed to stay on guard, keep my walls up. I wasn’t an idiot. Sex like that changed people, made them read more into situations than was truly there. And I couldn’t afford that. He would tire of me eventually, and then he would discard me as I’m sure he’d done with a number of women before me. There was no room for emotion here. I would stick to my original plan and wait him out, then escape as soon as the right time came.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fox
Eva hovered on the bottom step, one hand resting on the newel post as she regarded me warily. Studiously ignoring her, I focused my attention on Xavier. “Please have the car brought around. I’ll be gone for the night.”
With a concise nod, he moved away to do my bidding. Feeling Eva’s gaze on me, I could put her off no longer. I turned toward her. “My men will be here to keep an eye on you, so I advise you not to try anything stupid.”
Dark green eyes stared into mine. “Where are you going?”
“Haven’t we discussed this?” I cocked a brow. “You are not privy to the details of my life.”
Her eyes narrowed briefly on me, and her chest rose and fell on a sharp inhale. “Enjoy your night.”
Without another word, she turned and stalked back up the stairs. I watched her until she was gone, cursing myself for wanting her the entire time. This was precisely why I needed to get the hell out of the house. She was already starting to affect me, fucking with my mind. Disgusted with myself, I stormed out the door. A minute later, Xavier pulled around the driveway. He stepped out of the car and moved to open the back door for me, but I shook my head.
“I’ve got it.” I needed to be by myself, to clear my head. I slid into the driver seat and put the car in gear, flicking a surreptitious glance toward Eva’s window. A shadow hovered just off to the edge, and I swore I could feel her gaze on me. Anger at her, at myself, rose up, and I punched the gas, peeling out of the drive. Fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit, I made the drive to Marcella’s house in record time.
Parking the Mercedes in the underground parking garage, I texted her to let her know I was there. I drummed my fingers on the console as I waited, my impatience growing as the minutes continued to tick away. Finally the tell-tale tapping of heels against concrete met my ears, and I threw a disgruntled look her way as Marcella slid into the passenger seat.
“Love to keep me waiting, don’t you?”
She smiled. “A woman must always look her best.”
“Hmm…” I put the car in gear and backed out of my space, then headed toward the exit. I tossed a glance her way. “You may want to put your seatbelt on.”
She waved away my suggestion. “I don’t want to wrinkle my dress.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the road in front of me as I pulled into traffic. I cursed the fact that we were in the city. What I wanted right now was a long, vacant stretch of road where I could open the engine and fly around the curves, letting the sound of gears turning, fluid pumping, fill my ears.
Not that it mattered. I glanced over at Marcella’s beautiful profile. I’d work out my negative energy on her after dinner, and everything would go back to the way it was before. Even as I thought it, my stomach twisted, and Eva’s face popped into my head. I quickly shoved her away and searched for something to say.
“How’s Sebastian? Still not ready to settle down?”
She was too well-bred to roll her eyes, but I felt the gesture regardless. “Not yet.”
Her boyfriend of nearly six years continued to string her along, yet I had a feeling he would never marry her. Marcella was a pretty trophy for him to keep on his arm, but he was a notorious playboy. Not that I was any better, but we both knew what this was. Marcella reached out to me when she needed the attention that Sebastian Moreau couldn’t—or wouldn’t—give her. He didn’t seem to mind our arrangement, because I was certain he had no fewer than a dozen women at his beck and call.
“We planned to go to Spain last month, but he cancelled last minute. He’s in Monte Carlo right now on business. I offered to go with him, but he declined.”
Her tone was bitter but resigned, the sound of a woman who had learned to live with her boyfriend’s indiscretions. Of course he wouldn’t want her around. Why be saddled with a girlfriend when he could gamble and fuck as much as he wanted?
“You deserve better,” I said.
“I know.” Her voice was sad. “Part of me wonders if he’ll ever commit.”
I seriously doubted it. “If you’re not happy, just end things. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
“Except you.” She tossed a smile my way, but her eyes were filled with pain.
This was a familiar song and dance. “You know I’m not that kind of man.” I sighed. “I’m like Se
bastian in that regard. I can’t see myself ever settling down. Besides”—I let out a mirthless laugh—“what kind of woman would want to marry a man in my line of work?”
I knew some couples who made it work, but they were few and far between. One of these days, I would breathe my last breath, and I had no desire to leave anyone behind who would mourn me. I’d learned long ago that I would never be normal. I could never have a family.
I knew Sebastian’s reticence was what pushed Marcella into my arms. Deep down I think she hoped I would eventually give in and marry her, but I made her no promises. She’d hinted before that she was fine living in ignorance of my work and just wanted the physical side of things. But, much as I enjoyed Marcella, she could be needy and insecure—the exact opposite of Eva.
My cock leaped at the thought of her tight cunt, and I uttered a curse under my breath, shifting slightly in my seat in an effort to relieve the pressure building in my groin. No matter what I did, that infernal woman was always in the back of my mind. She was taking over every spare moment of my life, and it was time to put a stop to it.
“Everything okay?”
Marcella’s concerned honey-colored eyes studied me, and I forced a smile to my lips. “Looking forward to spending the evening with you, beautiful,” I lied. “It’s been much too long.”
“You have no idea.” She rested an elbow on the console and leaned toward me, her tone flirtatious. “I’ve been feeling very neglected.”
“Can’t have that.” I threw her a tight smile before turning my gaze back to the road. “We’re almost to the restaurant.”
“Oh, good. I’m starving.” Flipping down the visor, she checked her appearance, touching up her makeup and lipstick even though she’d just applied it mere minutes ago. It was just one more difference between her and Eva; Eva rarely wore makeup even though I’d purchased it for her. Truth to tell, I liked her even more without it. She lacked the flawless, airbrushed finish that Marcella sported, the dewy glow on her cheeks made possible by whatever combination of products were caked on her flesh. Eva was comfortable in her own skin, and it made her even more beautiful. She wasn’t ashamed of the faint freckles dotting her nose or the tiny imperfections that, to me, made her all the more perfect. Next to Eva, Marcella seemed shallow and—
Goddamn it. Realizing that I was comparing the two women once again, I gritted my teeth and practically slammed to a stop at the valet stand.
“Honestly, Fox,” Marcella admonished, one hand grasping the door handle. “In a hurry?”
I let out a low growl but didn’t bother to respond as I threw open the door and climbed out. The slight breeze whipped my jacket open, and I buttoned it before rounding the car and holding out my elbow for Marcella to take. I had to find a way to get Eva off my mind. She was quickly becoming a distraction I couldn’t afford. I prayed that tonight, once Marcella and I fell back into our familiar, comfortable routine, it would bring balance back to my life.
Admittedly, it’d been several months since I’d been with another woman. I was almost certain that was the root cause of my unease. The sex between us was good—but sex in general felt good, even when I couldn’t touch the woman as I did with Eva. She was no better than any of the others; I just needed to continually remind myself of that fact.
I gave my name to the host at the stand, and he showed us to the table near the back of the restaurant that I’d requested. Situated far from the door and any windows, I sat with my back to the wall, giving myself a good view of the entire room. It was the only table where I could see the comings and goings from every direction, the least vulnerable spot in the entire place.
I ordered a whiskey while Marcella requested a dry red, and silence settled for a few moments as she glanced around, her eyes drinking in all of the other socialites and wealthy businessmen.
She clucked her tongue and leaned close. “Gus is with his mistress again.”
I flicked a glance across the room to where Senator Augustus Marchand sat with a beautiful—and significantly younger—blonde woman. I nodded. “His assistant.”
“That’s what they all say.” Marcella shook out her napkin with a snap and settled it over her lap to protect the expensive silk of her dress.
Darting a look her way, I caught the remnants of pain in her eyes. No doubt she was once more thinking of her piece of shit boyfriend. “I’m sorry.”
The waitress delivered our drinks, took our orders, then disappeared again. Marcella took a long sip before answering. “Are all men like that?”
“In my opinion…” I trailed off as she stared up at me expectantly. People had spun fairy tales for centuries, and women in particular had fallen under their spell. Centuries ago, the tales had started out much darker, a warning for children to avoid the evils of the word. Today’s fairy tales all had a happy ending—an optimistic outlook for young women to believe that their prince charming was out there, and that not all men were evil villains. I liked the original stories better—they were full of truth and wisdom. Women should be wary of men’s intentions, but for some reason, I couldn’t find it in me to tell Marcella that.
I cleared my throat. “I think the right man will love you the way you deserve.”
Soft brown eyes stared into mine, and she nodded slowly. “I don’t think I can handle much more.”
Tearing my gaze away from her, I picked up my whiskey and took a sip. “He doesn’t deserve you. Give yourself a chance to find a man worthy of you.”
“Any suggestions?”
I wasn’t stupid; I knew exactly what she was asking. Unfortunately, I would never be able to be with Marcella. As much as I liked her as a person, I had no desire to have her around all the time. It was precisely what made her the perfect hookup. She let me fuck her the way I wanted, then went back to her boyfriend. She was a font of information, and I’d gleaned more details about my associates through her than anyone else because she moved in the same circles. But she would never be a permanent fixture in my life.
I could feel her eyes on me, but I refused to rise to the bait. I gestured vaguely around the restaurant. “You know everyone and everything. You’d make the perfect politician’s wife. What about Draven?”
A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her gaze back to the room. “Maybe.”
The remainder of our dinner was mostly silent with Marcella making the occasional observation about one of our acquaintances or telling me about some function held by the foundation where she worked. I listened with half an ear, perpetually on edge. I felt like I was going to splinter into a thousand pieces, sexual tension pulling me apart at the seams.
Finally, I could take it no longer. “Let’s go.”
I pulled out my wallet and tossed some cash on the table, then waited for Marcella to grab her things from the coat closet as we made our way to the door. My foot tapped an impatient rhythm on the sidewalk as I waited for the valet, and I didn’t bother to hold the door for Marcella when it finally showed up.
I could tell she was miffed at me from her silence as we made our way back to her place, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I didn’t want to make small talk. I wanted to fuck her, fuck these feelings away.
We got to her building in record time, and I slid into the guest space in her underground parking garage. This time, I rounded the car and opened the door for her. I didn’t lay a hand on her as we stepped into the elevator, but she expected nothing less. She knew the game; I touched her as little as possible, and she didn’t dare lay a hand on me. The sex was always mutual and gratifying, but never intimate.
Inside the car of the elevator, I hit the button for her floor, and it jolted into motion. Ensconced in the private area with Marcella so near, I could hold back no longer. Closing the distance between us, I attacked her lips and mouth, pressing her to the wall of the elevator as it rose toward her apartment. Her displeasure melted away, replaced by lust as she kissed me back. Leaning into her, I ran one hand up her thigh and under the hem of her dres
s, determined to block out the images flashing at the periphery of my brain.
Her hands pressed flat against the reflective wall to brace herself, and I slanted my head, continuing my assault on her mouth. She tasted of red wine, and the earthy notes soured on my tongue. Ripping my mouth away from hers, I trailed kisses over her jaw and down her neck. At the base of her throat, her pulse thrummed wildly, and the heavy scent of her perfume rolled off her skin. It was thick and overpowering, so unlike Eva’s natural sweetness.
My eyes flew open, and I jerked away, almost stumbling under the force of the movement. Marcella stared at me, mouth open in surprise, her lipstick smeared from our kisses. Goddamn it.
“I can’t do this.” I raked one hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, Marcella. I… Tonight’s not a good night.”
“Okay.” Her eyes held a trace of confusion and sadness, but she didn’t fight it.
The elevator door opened with a ding, and I didn’t move to stop her as she exited the car. Out in the hallway, she turned and threw a curious look my way. I offered her a small smile that I didn’t feel, and watched her disappear through the slit in the doors as the elevator closed up once more and began its descent.
Back in my car, I fumed all the way home. Fucking Eva. Why the hell couldn’t I get her off my mind? It was as if she had some kind of hold over me, and I didn’t like the feeling one bit. I parked in the garage, then made my way up to the second floor by way of the back staircase. Callum nodded at me as I passed but I barely spared him a glance. I had business to take care of.
Moving into my room I kicked off my shoes, then opened the adjoining door to Eva’s room. It was dark and silent, but that was no surprise. Moving on silent feet, I stared at her, spread out in the huge bed, fast asleep. One small foot peeked out from beneath the blanket where it hung over the edge of the bed, and a seething fury swept over me, turning my vision red.
