by Penelope Sky
The first door opened, and I worked on the next step.
After every security measure was complete, I opened the heavy vault door, a door three times my height.
Steel carried the bags of money inside then used the machines to count everything.
The door behind us was locked, with two armed men protecting the entrance. My men were loyal because they all got a cut of the take, but I was a paranoid man.
Steel started entering the totals into his laptop.
I continued to carry the heavy bags inside before I took the counted bills and organized them in the enormous vault.
“You think Damien will comply next time we see him?”
I kept working, my muscles tight from all the heavy lifting. “Yes.” That piece of shit was making my life difficult, and I didn’t know what to do. If he pulled a stunt again and I didn’t kill him, I would really be in trouble.
“He better. Or you’re gonna have to shoot him in the head. Why don’t you just do that?”
“He makes us too much money.”
Steel shrugged. “It’s not that much.”
We kept working, spending over an hour taking care of the accounting before we locked the safe door and walked out. We moved down the hallway and entered the main hall, where the men were gathered.
Vox sat there alone, watching me from his place at the table. The look he gave me was different from before, far more sinister, like he was pissed off just to look at my face.
I may have to kill one of my own…and very soon.
Four
Catalina
After our performance, we all went out on the town, hitting up a bar and ordering rounds of drinks. I didn’t text Heath because I didn’t want to be one of those women who needed her man at her side every moment of the day.
But I definitely wasn’t having fun.
Nights like these were the kind I used to live for, to let my hair down and have a good time. But now I saw my friends flirt with guys, get free drinks, and knew their nights would never end up the way mine did.
With a man like Heath.
Sometimes guys hit on me, bought me a drink, but I was quick to tell them I was seeing someone.
And I wasn’t interested anyway.
Men I once found attractive were now repulsive. I couldn’t believe the guys I’d already slept with; they looked like boys in comparison. Now I sat there alone, my friends involved with their guys, so I was forgotten.
I sipped my cosmo, debating whether I should throw in the towel and go home.
Bars seemed pointless when I wasn’t single.
A guy came to my table, a good-looking guy who probably would have scored my phone number if I weren’t already seeing someone. He didn’t buy me a drink, but he sat beside me and made conversation. “Are you unavailable? I can’t imagine any other reason for you to be sitting here alone.”
“You guessed right.” I drank from my glass, bored out of my mind.
“Well, he’s not here, right?” He gave me a playful smile.
Heath and I weren’t in a typical romantic relationship, but we were physically committed to each other, and the idea of being with someone else, even if I could get away with it, disgusted me. It felt so wrong, so bad, that it made me physically sick. I raised my hand and gave a flick of my wrist. “I’m not interested.”
“Oh, come on.” He relaxed in the chair. “I’m just trying to break the ice.”
“If you don’t leave, I’ll break your face.” I stared him down so he knew I wasn’t joking.
He rolled his eyes and vacated the chair. “Nice talking to you…”
My phone lit up with a message. Where are you?
My heartbeat immediately quickened when I saw his name on my screen, heard his deep voice in my head. Instead of being defiant, I gave a straight answer. At a bar with the girls.
A lot of guys must be buying you drinks.
Unfortunately.
I’ll join you.
Even if he was here, I still didn’t want to sit there, surrounded by people who had no idea what we had. No. I’m gonna leave.
Because you really hate being seen with me that much?
Reading the text hurt because it was so inaccurate. No. Because I’ve been miserable this entire time…because you aren’t here.
I walked in the door and spotted him on the couch, already stripped down to his boxers. The TV was on, but his eyes immediately left the screen once I walked inside. He grabbed the remote and hit the button without looking at it before he rose to his feet.
I looked him up and down, having no idea how I’d ever picked up a guy at the bar in the first place. Why would I go out when this man was waiting for me? I tossed my clutch aside as he came closer to me.
He stopped in front of me and looked into my face. “Have a good time?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I can go out with them anymore…”
He stared at me as he waited for an answer.
“There’s just nothing for me to do. They hook up with guys they meet, and I just sit there…bored out of my mind. What’s the point in going out with them when I would rather be home with you?”
He smiled slightly, one hand moving to my cheek.
My fingers wrapped around his wrist. “I’m not sure if I could ever go back to that…not after you.” I didn’t know why I said that, why I admitted my deepest thoughts to this man who was only a temporary figure in my life.
His eyes focused harder on my face, hanging on every word I said. “Then don’t.” His hand moved to the back of my head as he cradled it and leaned down and kissed me. His other arm wrapped around my waist, and he gripped me tightly, touching me in a way no other man had ever done. He squeezed me, suffocated me.
I melted instantly, my arms wrapping around his neck.
His hand lifted my dress until he gripped the back of my thong. He pulled it down over my ass to my thighs and let it fall the rest of the way on its own. Then he picked me up and pinned me against the wall, my legs wrapped around his waist. With his face pressed to mine, he lowered his boxers and shoved himself inside me, sinking deep.
I breathed against his mouth and moaned, my dress hiked to my waist and my ankles locked together with my heels digging into his ass. I loved the way he lifted me effortlessly, the way he slipped inside me without preamble because he didn’t need to pause to get a condom on his dick. This man was all mine, and I was all his.
I thought about what that man had said at the bar, that Heath wasn’t there to know what I did. I could get away with anything. But I could honestly say there wasn’t a single man I wanted more than the man inside me right now.
No one.
He lay beside me in bed, naked because the sheets were kicked away. He was over six feet of perfection, his dick still defined even when it was soft. Tattoos marked his fair skin, depicting shadows and demons that accompanied him wherever he went. There was also a skull on his abdomen.
It matched the one on his right hand.
I stared at the huge diamond he wore, watched the way it glittered like it was the most flawless diamond that had ever been mined. “You always wear that?”
His eyes were closed, but they opened when he heard me speak. “Yes.”
“Isn’t it heavy?”
“I don’t notice it.”
I reached for his hand and grabbed the ring. “Can I?”
He pulled his hand away and used the fingers of his other hand to twist and pull, getting the tight ring off his finger. It was such a heavy piece of jewelry that he probably needed to always wear it tight. Otherwise, it would fall off. He dropped it in my hand.
It was heavy—really heavy.
I turned it at different angles, examining the unique ring. The diamond was spectacular, the cuts in the surface to represent the eyes. “That’s one hell of a ring.” I handed it back.
He slipped it back onto his finger, twisted it to get it over his knuckle. “It’s definitely a conversation piece.”
>
“Why do you wear it?”
“So people know exactly who I am, even if we’ve never met.”
It surprised me that it never got in the way when we were together, that it didn’t get stuck in my hair or scratched my skin when he touched me. He was so used to it that he knew exactly how to carry it.
He reached into the nightstand beside him, grabbing a small black box. “I got something for you.”
I stared at the box in his hand, surprised by the gesture. “You don’t seem like the kind of man to give a woman jewelry.”
He smiled slightly. “I’m not. Open it.”
I took it from his hand, assuming it was a ring because the box was too small for a bracelet or necklace. I cracked it open and spotted the stunning diamond inside, displaying the same carvings as his ring.
It was a navel piercing.
I took it out of the box and examined it. “It’s beautiful…”
His hand went to my stomach. “I thought it would look sexy…” His thumb brushed over the cheap body jewelry that was there now.
“This is a real diamond…a really nice diamond.” I could tell just by looking at it that it was much more expensive than most engagement rings. It was a solid diamond set in white-gold metal, glittering with the same brilliance as his ring.
“Put it on.”
I almost couldn’t accept it, but it wasn’t like he could return it. It was too specific of a gift to return to the jeweler. I removed my old one, which was light and cheap, and then put the new one in.
He stared at it when I was done, his eyes focused on the diamond that perfectly fit inside my small belly button. “Damn.” He leaned down and kissed my navel, swiping his tongue over the diamond.
My fingers slid into his hair, and I watched him kiss me, the old jewelry lost somewhere in the bed, forgotten.
His tongue dipped under the piercing, lifting it slightly before he released it. He kissed my stomach as he moved up, gliding through the valley between my tits before his face met mine. He kissed me hard on the mouth as he looked into my gaze. “You like it.”
“Yes.”
His hand moved to my hip, and he tilted me slightly so he could bring us close together. “Don’t ever take it off.”
It was probably the most expensive piece of jewelry I’d ever own—and the hottest.
“Alright?” He stared hard into my gaze, as if he’d given me a command that had to be obeyed.
My fingers brushed over his jawline, feeling the stubble that started to grow after he shaved yesterday. “Why would I ever want to take it off?”
A week passed, and we developed a routine of sorts.
He would come by whenever he felt like it, letting himself into the apartment without knocking, whether I was there or not. I did the same to him, coming to his place without giving him notice. He was usually watching TV in the living room or working out in his private gym, and not once did he look annoyed by my presence. His blue eyes brightened noticeably whenever I walked through the door.
I was sitting up in bed, reading a book because there was nothing on TV.
The front door opened.
I didn’t even flinch because I knew exactly who it was.
“Baby, it’s me.” He carried bags to the counter then started to open my cabinets and fridge, because he’d picked up groceries on the way. I never asked him to do that. He just did it on his own, even though I was perfectly capable of grabbing my own necessities.
“What did you get?” I asked from my bedroom. We’d fallen into a domestic routine, so comfortable with each other that it became our new way of life.
“Food. And I grabbed your favorite wine—even though it tastes like shit.”
I smiled at his deep voice. “Thank you.”
He came into the bedroom, looking so sexy in his low jeans and gray shirt. He looked at me and started to strip, removing his thin shirt before getting his jeans loose.
I stopped reading and stared at him.
He grinned slightly, like he enjoyed the attention. “Got something to say?”
“Nope…” I stared at his perfect physique and watched his arms flex as he crawled onto the bed.
He moved on top of me and kissed me, pushing the book away until it thudded on the floor. Then he overtook me completely, making me sink back into the pillows. Anxious, he pushed down his boxers so his dick could be free, and he pulled my panties off, leaving my shirt on because it took too much time to take it off.
Then he slid inside me, both of us slowing down once we were finally connected.
“Yes…” My arms wrapped around his neck, and I released a deep breath, loving how full I felt the second he entered me.
With his forehead to mine, he rocked into me slowly, breathing with me as we enjoyed each other. He moaned quietly from the back of his throat, pausing in his thrusts like he needed a chance to process how good this felt, like he was caught off guard every single time we were together.
“You love this pussy, don’t you?” I spoke against his lips, talking dirty even though I never had before.
He moaned in response, louder this time. “This is my pussy…” He started to rock harder, making the headboard tap against the wall. “And I love my pussy.”
The sound of falling water was loud because Heath was in the shower just down the hallway. After a few sessions, he was hot and sweaty, and he usually liked to be clean before bed. He continued to shave with my razor instead of bringing his own, even used my toothbrush though he could have grabbed one at the store every time he went.
I picked up my book from the floor and kept reading.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand, lighting up the dark and being obnoxiously loud.
I ignored it.
Then it started to ring.
I kept ignoring it.
Then it vibrated again—and again.
I set my book down because I wondered if something important was happening and Heath needed to know about it. I leaned over his side of the bed and grabbed his phone.
That was when my heart dropped into my chest.
Some bitch named Dynasty texted him a nude picture of herself, her tits in full focus. My hand shook as I stared at it, jealous, angry, pissed, all of the above. It was none of my business, but my emotional response outweighed my pragmatism, and I opened the message box.
Another photo for your collection.
What collection?
I opened his photos next, and he had a whole separate folder for dirty photos…with all kinds of different women. Sometimes the photos were taken with his phone, with the women right beside him.
I felt sick.
I dropped the phone like it burned me.
Now my heart raced, my ears burned from the rise in temperature, and I was so livid I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure why I was so angry. I didn’t think Heath would ever fool around with someone else, but if that wasn’t the case, why were women still texting him? Why did he continue to have those photos even though we’d been together for a month now?
What the fuck?
I stormed into the bathroom and yanked on the curtain.
He stilled, looking at me like he had no idea what was going on.
“You fucking asshole.” I slapped him across the face then shoved him into the opposite wall.
He was so caught off guard, he nearly fell, gripping the shelf to stabilize himself. “What the fuck?”
I grabbed the bar of soap and threw it at his face. “Piece of shit.” I closed the shower curtain and marched off again.
The water turned off, and his footsteps were loud behind me a few seconds later.
I grabbed his clothes off the ground then turned around and threw them in his face. “Get dressed and get the fuck out of my apartment.”
He smacked the clothes down when they came at his face, his look full of rage, more furious than he’d ever been. “You care to explain what the hell you’re freaking out about—”
I grabbed his
phone and pulled up the message. “Who the fuck is Dynasty?”
He didn’t look at the screen as it was held up in front of him, his expression hard because he was clearly pissed off at me when I was the only one who should be pissed off.
“‘Another photo to add to your collection’?” My voice rose higher and higher since I was so pissed, my chest caved in because I was so hurt. He hurt me—so bad. And that scared me most of all. I panicked, turned dramatic and ridiculous. Just the idea of him looking at another woman made me lose my shit. I pulled up the photo album. “What the fuck are these, Heath?” I threw the phone at his chest, hitting him hard. “How would you feel if I had a bunch of dick pics from all my old lovers? How would you feel if some guy texted me in the middle of the night?”
He let the phone drop to the ground, his chest rising and falling steadily as his face tinted a faint red color. When he spoke, his voice was loud, just like it had been in the basement where he saved me. “Dynasty is one of my whores. I’ve never hidden my past from you. I’ve never—”
“If she’s part of your past, why is she texting you now? You’ve been seeing me for over a month, Heath. Why the fuck is this bitch texting you?” My voice matched his, and if we didn’t calm down soon, someone was gonna call the cops.
“I can’t control what other people do—”
“Why is she texting you?”
His nostrils flared. “No idea. Haven’t seen the fucking message.”
I rolled my eyes. “Get the fuck out. Don’t come back.” I kicked his clothes at him.
He didn’t move. “You really think I’d mess around?” Now he lowered his voice, turning cold. “You really think I’d do some pussy shit like that?”
“No,” I snapped. “And that’s why this hurts so much.”
“Baby—”
“Don’t fucking call me that. I’m not your baby if other women are sending you pictures of their tits.”
