Red & Wolfe, Part Four

by Ella James

  CHAPTER NINE

  RED

  He returns a few minutes later with the first aid kit and a towel.

  He scoops me up, tosses the towel out atop the sheets, and lays me gently down on it. He surprises me by wiping between my legs with a warm cloth.

  “Thank you,” I murmur. I look up at his face, hoping to get some idea of where we stand.

  He opens the kit and gets some gauze out, then some antibiotic ointment. His cock is still half-hard, and it gets all the way there again as he tends to my leg. I try to catch his eye, but he’s intentionally avoiding me.

  I want to say something. Point out how that wasn’t the mean fuck he promised. Why not? And why are his hands so gentle now? I shut my eyes.

  I try to keep quiet, but every time his hands brush my skin, I grow more and more aroused, until I’m hot and wet between my legs. The thought of leaving after this—of never fucking him again—makes me feel desperate.

  I open my eyes and look at the top of his dark head. He’s bandaged the wound on my thigh and is wrapping one on my shin. Even as I stir, deliberately trying to draw his attention, he keeps his eyes on my leg.

  “I’m still not leaving,” I say. “Not like this.”

  His eyes flick up to mine, but they’re distant. Unfocused. His voice is low as he ties the gauze off. “Don’t worry, Red. You’ll get all the money I promised you and more.”

  “No.” I lean up and grab his shoulder. “Look at me! I want to know why this happened. What kind of trouble are you in?”

  He’s off the bed, pacing the small space between the bed and wall. Sunlight coming through the glass ceiling glints off his dark hair, then almost immediately is replaced by flickering shadows. I glance up. Dark clouds have blotted out the sun. “You’re leaving. It’s not up for debate.”

  “You can’t make me go. It’s still my island.”

  He steps over to the bed, looking infuriated. “I’m doing you a favor, Red. Protecting you.”

  “You were hiding, weren’t you? I told Katie you were you. I let the secret out about where you live. So it’s my fault this happened.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Then whose fault is it?”

  He stares at the wall in front of him, the wall where the back door is. The door that horrible man carried me through.

  “Did you kill that guy?” I ask slowly. “The one in the tree house.”

  He locks his jaw, and he must think he owes me an answer on this, because he looks down at me. “I don’t know. He wasn’t dead when he left. He deserved to be.”

  I manage to hold his gaze for just a moment. Long enough to see it freaks him out. He doesn’t want to look me in the eye. Because he knows he’s being an asshole and he feels guilty?

  He takes two steps to a wooden chair beside his desk, grabs a pair of jeans hanging over the chair’s back, and punches his legs into them. As he moves, I notice his left hand. He isn’t bending several of the fingers as he pulls his jeans on. I squint, and my tired eyes notice how red it is. Dark red and very swollen.

  “What happened to your hand?”

  He moves it out of my sight. “Just a burn.”

  I slide out of the bed and step over to him. “Can I see?”

  He steps away, almost a hop really, since he’s still trying to fasten his jeans. He looks over his shoulder. “Get your things together. I’m taking you back to the harbor. Now.”

  I open my mouth, because I’m going to protest, but he cuts me off. “I don’t want you here. I love your sexy little body but I don’t want you. The way you’re looking at me, Red? It’s sad.”

  My stomach twists. “I don’t believe you.” But I’m whispering. Because really—I don’t know. Carl left me for a guy. I can’t hold a job. The few friends I have will probably move on with their lives, and on the family front—I’ve got nothing. “You do want me.” I say it because it’s the only hope I’ve got.

  He shakes his head, standing straight now that he’s got his jeans on. “You don’t believe me? Try me.”

  I step to him, barely breathing as I reach for his chest. There’s a moment where I wonder what I’ll do if he doesn’t respond to my touch, where some cold, executive function questions how the weak, emotional part of me will handle it if I can’t even appeal to this man’s ever-hungry cock. Too late to generate any useful predictions, though. I’m already in motion.

  I tickle my fingers down his happy trail, and then run one finger up his belly. It’s warm and tight—the muscles deliciously firm and well-defined. I look into his face. It’s hard—so very hard—but I breathe deeply and keep up my onslaught, dragging my finger over his pec, where I skate my fingertip around his small, pert nipple.

  I pinch it just a little, and I press my naked body closer to his. When I feel his powerful thighs, but nothing else, I look back down between his legs.

  Nothing.

  No bulge.

  Jesus, how embarrassing is that? I drop my hand and dash around him, headed toward the door. I wish I could call a boat taxi! I can’t stand to look at him again. And so, of course, my gaze is pulled to him.

  I look back at the awful man who’s somehow worked his talons into my heart.

  And that’s when I see: Behind his back, he’s got his hands in fists. The fingers of his left hand, so burned and chapped and swollen, are pressed tightly together.

  CHAPTER TEN

  RED

  The second my gaze hits his hands, he unclenches them, but it’s too late.

  I stalk back over to him, right into the line of his cold gaze. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you. You’re a coward!”

  I look down to find he’s already getting hard. Of course he is! I strike a pose I know will emphasize my breasts and point to the bed.

  “Lie down and let me do the touching this time. If you don’t want me, that should be no problem for you.”

  His brows draw tightly together, and he blinks at me as if he’s coming out of a daze. A sex daze. Because he wants me. Of course he fucking wants me!

  His face hardens, and he folds his arms in front of him, as if he needs to put a barrier between us. “Let it go, Red. Let it go, and do like I tell you for Christ’s sake. Leave. You’re making more of this thing between us than what’s there.”

  I look pointedly at his cock, and he says, “Yeah. That’s all. You’re good, Red, and I’ve had a good time, but it’s time for you to go. I’ll find you with the NDA. I’ll even pay you for your silence regarding…today…if you think that’s necessary.”

  “Are you inviting me to bribe you?” I shut my mouth and shake my head. “No way. You might throw your money around to get what you want, but I’m not like that. Money isn’t everything to me. You really want me to leave? Make me able to leave. Explain to me what the hell is going on.” I wave at my nude body. “Why did the guy who tied me up want to kill you? Why did he do this to me? How many times do I have to ask before you start answering!”

  He finally looks into my eyes. One of his is swollen, turning black. He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  I change gears. “How about something factual, like how many of them were here today?”

  “Five as far as I know.”

  “Did you get all of them?”

  “One got away. He jumped me from behind and…” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t take him down. Which is why you need to go.”

  I let my breath out. “So this is the last I ever see of you, then?”

  “Yes, Red.” His eyes are wide—an emotional reaction to me, finally. “Turn around and don’t look back. I don’t need the island anymore. Our business together is over.”

  I grab his unhurt hand and tug. His brows draw together, but he lets me lead him to the bed.

  I push him back against the side of the mattress, securing him there with my hips, just the way he had me earlier. I run my hands down his chest and look up at his face—the handsome face that
sets my pulse racing. “Fine—I’ll go. I’ll go and sign your NDA and never talk to you again. On one condition.”

  His brows quirk up.

  I run my gaze down his delicious chest, satisfied to find he’s hard and bulging thorough his jeans. “You let me suck your cock just one more time.”

  He gives me a suspicious look, and I wave at the bed behind him.

  “Go on. Lie down.”

  “You sure about this?”

  “It’s my condition, Race.” I flatten my palm against his chest and give him a light shove. “Lie back and get yourself ready for me. I want to say goodbye—my way.”

  He looks wary, but he lifts himself up onto the bed and stretches out on his back, propping himself up on his elbows.

  I climb up beside him and ease him down, flat on his back. “Take down your pants.”

  He grits his teeth, but after a second’s stillness, he does as I ask. I scoot over a little, and I sit on something hard. Handcuffs.

  I take his hand in mine, and before he realizes what’s going on, I snap one of the open cuffs around his wrist; the other one to the bottom of a bedpost. He arches up off the bed, grabs my arm. “Unlock me! I can’t protect you this way—”

  “I’ll make things fast. Just trust me. Pretty please.”

  He doesn’t move at first. Then he looks into my face.

  “Only you,” he says softly. “Just you, Red.”

  His long, well-muscled body is stretched out before me, every line on display. I want to lick him. Bite him.

  He feels tense, even as I stroke his happy trail and kiss his throat.

  “Have you ever been in this position, Race?”

  He shuts his eyes and nods. It takes me a moment to decide if I should keep going. If he doesn’t like this sort of thing, I shouldn’t force it. But one look at his dick and I can’t not touch it. I take it in my hands and caress his warm, heavy balls. He relaxes into the mattress and lets his breath out in a soft sigh.

  I lean down and take his cock into my mouth, deep-throating him until he groans and pushes against me.

  I run my tongue around the smooth, hard girth of him, moving slowly at first, then faster, harder. He swells and stiffens in my mouth, even starts to taste salty as I suck him hard, but he doesn’t make a sound. Finally, he starts to thrust into me. Starts panting. But when I glance up at him, he looks tense. Miserable.

  “Let me go,” he pleads. “ I want to fuck you my way. You know I’ll make it good for you.”

  “Okay. I’ll just try this one more thing, and then if you’re still not happy…” I reach over to the black box on the bedside table. I can feel him watching me as I reach in, take one of the little silver bullet vibrators, and spread lube over it.

  I watch his face carefully as I move my hand toward his ass. His brows are clenched together, like he’s bracing himself. I’m surprised to find I kind of like the way he seems so…cautious. I’m in control now. Maybe I sort of like it.

  “This won’t be so bad.” I grin and work my way between his fine, pert asscheeks. I make my mark, then push the lubbed bullet inside him.

  He groans. “Jesus!”

  He rolls his hips, his massive dick jutting into the air, his balls drawing up before my eyes. He digs his back into the mattress and throws his head back. “Fuck.”

  I lean over and lap at his balls. Cup them in my palm and gently roll them as I suck on his huge, salty head. I bathe every crevice with my tongue, tracing the line around his head, then gliding down his shaft. I remember the egg’s controller and turn it on low. Race locks his hands around my head.

  His dick is leaking everywhere. I can taste the salty pre-cum as he thrashes against my face. “Red,” he pants. “Red, Red.” I take him down into my throat and constrict my muscles there, so I’m hugging his length, even as my lips massage the base of his cock and my fingertips tease his balls.

  His eyes are rolling back into his head. He’s breathing so hard.

  “I like fucking your ass,” I whisper.

  That’s all it takes.

  He shoves himself once more into my throat and comes in a mighty burst down my throat.

  In a fraction of a second, he’s got me by the shoulders, slamming me against the mattress, climbing on top of me. In the seconds it takes me to realize he’s somehow escaped the cuffs, he’s got his cock pushed firmly into me. He’s got his hands around my wrists.

  “You’re mine, Red. I’m in charge now. You will like it.”

  He fucks me hard and rough, pinning me down, never loosening his grip on my wrists. His cock feels good and gets me wet and loose, but through my haze, I notice he seems frenzied. There’s a desperate quality to the way he pounds into me. Like he knows this is the last time.

  We come in the same breath as he thrusts into me, filling me so fully I see stars. He convulses. I moan.

  When he pulls out, he leans over me. He puts his hands around my face and touches his forehead down to mine.

  “Jesus, Red. You really fuck me up.”

  “You fuck me up, too.” I grab onto his shoulder and tug him closer. Close enough that I can bury my face in the crook of his arm. “I can’t imagine never fucking you again.” Tears fill my throat, so sudden I don’t have time to keep them out of my voice when I say, “I don’t want to go.”

  “Oh, Red.” He strokes my hair out of my face, then stretches out beside me. He puts a leg over both of mine and looks into my eyes. “I’m a goddamned liar, and I do want you. But I can never have you, baby.” He brings his mouth down on mine and kisses me deep and hard. And when he pulls away, he sits up, takes my hand, and kisses it.

  “I’ll tell you,” he says, pulling a blanket over his lap. “And you’ll see that I’m weak. Why you shouldn’t know. Why you’re in danger now. I’m so afraid I ruined your life, baby.” He drops his head into his hands and exhales roughly. Looks back up at me. “When I’m done with the story, you’re going to go.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  RED

  “Where do you want me to start?” Race asks. “How much of this shit do you really want to hear?”

  “All of it.” Because I can’t seem to know enough about you.

  He draws his knees up and rests his muscle-corded forearms on them. He casts one brief look my way before he sets his gaze on the wall in front of the bed. Silence swells to fill the seconds, and my heart beats harder with anticipation.

  “Cookie and I knew each other as children. She was a cute little black-haired girl, and I was…I don’t know, a boy six years older. We played together at the Hamptons every summer while our fathers talked business. And that was it.” He drums his knee. “Until she needed to inherit. Her grandfather had a daughter who settled down with a woman. He didn’t want that to happen again, so there was a marriage clause. The guy here today, one of them—” he slides his eyes to me— “tried to help her get out of it, apparently. He’s a married lawyer but says he was in love with her.”

  I blink, already opening my mouth to fire off questions. But he goes on.

  “I called Bob yesterday for the NDA. Bob’s my cousin and my manager. He said he’d have someone bring it. A lawyer, obviously. So when Linn showed up saying Bob sent him, I had no reason not to believe him.” He huffs his breath out. “He had a big guy with him. The guy…” He drops his gaze to the bed.

  “The guy from the tree house,” I say softly.

  He puts a hand over his face. “I thought he was Linn’s body guard. But Linn used to do a lot of business with the Smythsons, so alarm bells were ringing. I couldn’t shake the idea of…” He shakes his head. “I was worried about you, so I left them there and came to check on you. Put you in the basement. Where you would be safe. If you had stayed there…”

  He exhales loudly. Shakes his head again. “On my way back, after I put you downstairs, I got shot with a sedative.” He rubs his neck. “Woke up to Linn and two others trying to kick my ass.” He looks away from me and tightens his jaw. “They were going to hang me.�
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  Hard eyes lift to meet my own, where they soften a fraction. “Then they told me they had you, and I got out of it.”

  My eyes fly from his neck to his burned hand. “What did you do to them?”

  He gives me a wry face. “What do you think?”

  “Are they… Did you kill them?” I rush the question out.

  “No. They’re tied up for now and probably hurting.”

  “So it was the lawyer?” I ask. “This was all his plan?”

  “I don’t know. Could be alone, could have been sent by Smythson.”