“I’ll handle them,” Davidson said. “But watch out for his daughter. She’s a pain in the ass. One wrong move and she’ll be sniffing around like a bitch in heat.”
“Bitches in heat are one of my many specialties.” Vincent laughed again, then peeked at the contents of the envelope. Satisfied, he tucked it inside his jacket pocket and stood up. Inside his jacket, right there under his arm, Ari saw the holster and gun he’d always carried.
Until this moment, she’d never even imagined he’d actually fired the thing.
“This time tomorrow, gentlemen,” Vincent said, “the deed will be done. And we’ll be officially in business.”
Ari made a fist and jammed it into her mouth, biting down to keep from screaming as the video blacked out, all of her worst fears confirmed.
Vincent—a man who’d become Davidson’s right-hand man, a man she’d welcomed into her bed… That bastard had gotten close to her father, convinced her father to trust him above everyone else on the crew…
And then he killed him.
He’d done it all on Davidson’s orders.
Ari’s head spun, the ground tilting beneath her.
She replayed the video, again and again, each time searching for a different outcome. A different angle. Something—anything—to tell her she’d misunderstood.
But the truth, however ugly and painful, was as plain as day. It had been right there under her nose all along.
And that was the worst part. Because now, when Ari closed her eyes and dug deep, it wasn’t surprise that she found lurking beneath the surface of her outrage. It was a confirmation.
Somehow, she’d known all along that all of the clues about her father’s murder would lead her right here, right back to Davidson and Vincent.
She removed the headphones and closed her eyes, not bothering to wipe away the tears. Anger, bitterness, grief, fear… they hit her all at once, wrapping her in a tight fist, pressing the air from her lungs.
“I’m so sorry, love,” Jared whispered. She hadn’t heard him come in, but he was suddenly behind her, his hands warm on her shoulders.
“So you knew?” Ari didn’t turn around; she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, to see the truth.
Jared sighed. “Yes.”
She nodded brusquely, not bothering to ask why he’d kept it from her; the answer was obvious.
He loved her. He was trying to protect her.
But how could he protect her from herself? From the life that she’d been born into, the life she continued to live? The life she had to keep on living, if only to save her sister and keep Jared out of harm’s way?
Jared gently squeezed the back of her neck. “I’m right here with you, love. Tell me what you want. Say the word and I’ll make it happen.”
Ari rose from the chair and finally turned to face him, pushing her hands into his hair and pressing her mouth to his in a deep kiss. The feel of his breath, the taste of his lips, they were familiar to her now; so… home. She could hardly remember a time when Jared wasn’t a part of her life.
The thought made her ache. But what she wanted—what she needed—was to say goodbye. To put an end to this madness, save her sister, stop Davidson from going through with the Annandale heist, and let Jared Blackwell get back to his normal life.
There was only one way to do it. She knew that now. And she wasn’t sure she’d come back from it alive.
So for tonight, for one last time before it all fell apart, she was going to fuck him. She was going to fuck him so deep, so hard, she’d have the scars to remember him by for the rest of her life, no matter how short that life may be.
“You,” she whispered into his hungry mouth. “All I want is you.”
Chapter Ten
The swell of Arianne’s breasts rose and fell with her ragged breath, her T-shirt pulled sideways to reveal the soft curve of her shoulder. When she met Jared’s eyes, the look she gave him was one of pure passion. Whatever else she’d been feeling when he walked in here, it was gone. All that remained was her raw desire, instinctual and animal.
The utter baseness of it made him instantly hard.
“You’re mine, Arianne. Always.” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close again, capturing her mouth in another bruising kiss, waiting for her to cry out in pain from the cut that had only last night been stitched. But she parted her lips easily, letting him explore her mouth as she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his.
She wasn’t wearing pants, and through the thin T-shirt, Jared felt every curve, every bit of her warmth and wetness and desire. He slid his hands around her ass and squeezed, lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her long, toned legs around his hips, and he leaned back, relishing the feel of her weight against his body, steadying him, anchoring him to everything that mattered in his life. Right now, everything else could fucking burn; as long as Arianne was in his arms, in his mouth, in his hands, nothing else mattered.
He carried her to the table at the other end of the study, and with one hand, he swept the papers and mail to the floor, setting her down on the surface. She rolled her panties off, opening her legs for him as he pushed her backward. Jared had tugged on a pair of boxers when he got out of bed, and now they were nothing but a hindrance. He tore them off and climbed on top of her, kissing her madly, slipping his hand between her thighs, his fingers seeking her warmth.
But suddenly Arianne wasn’t in the mood to be pleasured—not on the bottom. She pushed Jared away and hopped off the desk, the feral look in her eyes telling Jared exactly what he needed to know.
She wanted—needed—to take control tonight, and for the first time in his life, Jared willingly gave it to her.
“Whatever you need, love,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “Take it.”
Like water her hands slipped down his chest, and Arianne dropped to her knees, fisting his rock-hard shaft. The roughness of her bandages was an exquisite pain, one he craved even as she squeezed him, stroking him with perfect pressure.
She brought her mouth to the tip and blew a soft breath across his flesh, then swirled her tongue around the tip, licking and teasing him as she continued to stroke him with her hand. Just when he thought he couldn’t take another moment of her light teasing, she swallowed him into her mouth, sucking him hard, taking him in so fucking deep it made him shudder.
“Arianne,” he growled, fisting her hair. “Keep doing that, and I’m going to come right inside that sweet mouth of yours.”
She looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes devious. Jared’s warning had only served to encourage her, and she grabbed his ass, directing him as he slid in and out of her mouth, so hot and wet and soft…
“Arianne! I’m getting close. I can’t—”
She pulled away in an instant, his cock mourning the loss of her lips. “Don’t you dare come without me.”
The look in her eyes went from desirous to ferocious, a raging storm intent on utter destruction. Jared was powerless in its path.
She dragged him down to the carpeted floor and pushed him onto his back, climbing on top of him.
Jared barely had time to roll on the condom before she straddled him, claiming his cock with her soft, wet heat.
“Fuck me hard, Jared. Right here. Just like this. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Fuck, yes.
He grabbed her hips, grinding against her hard, their bodies colliding as they both fought for control. He wanted her beneath him, writhing in pleasure as he commanded her darkest desires. But Arianne would not relinquish control tonight. She had him pinned, and he’d promised to give her whatever she needed, no matter how much he might be regretting it now.
She rode him hard, rising onto her knees and then slamming back down again, her breasts bouncing, her hair spilling over her shoulders, her fingernails digging into his chest like claws.
She was naked above him, the moonlight making her skin glow as a flush crept across her creamy breasts. Every thrust made her more wild,
more fierce. She was getting close to the edge.
Jared wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t want it to end.
“Slow down, love,” he whispered. We’ve got all night.”
“No. No.” She tossed her head wildly, arching against him. “I want you hard and fast. Own this pussy, Jared. Make it fucking hurt.”
Fucking hell, woman.
Jared almost came from the ferocity of her demands. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down against his mouth, licking and biting her neck, her jaw, her ear, loving the way her stiff nipples pressed against his chest. He wanted to be everywhere at once, kissing her, sucking her, driving into her wet flesh, consuming her.
He slid his hands down her back, skin slick with sweat, and gripped her ass, bucking wildly against her willing flesh. Suddenly he couldn’t get in that pussy deep enough, far enough, hard enough, and still his cock thickened, growing harder with every thrust.
Jared was out of his mind with desire, his balls heavy and aching to explode. He raised a hand and spanked her ass, then soothed her flesh with a soft touch before raising his hand again. This time, he spanked her so hard she screamed his name and dug her nails into his shoulders.
Her pussy was drenched, so slick as he fucked her hard from the bottom, alternating rough spankings with a soothing touch, pushing her to the very edge of her limits.
Unable to hold back any longer, Arianne cried out in pleasure, her fingers slipping between her thighs, desperate for a release Jared just wasn’t ready to give her. She slipped her fingers over her clit, her pussy tightening around his rock-hard cock.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Not like this.
Without breaking contact with her exquisite pussy, Jared wrapped her in his arms and flipped them over, finally pinning her beneath him. She didn’t fight him this time, didn’t try to take control. She dug her nails into his back and parted her thighs, arching her back to give him access.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned.
His knees burned against the carpet, but Jared had no intention of stopping. He slid his hands behind her thighs and brought her legs up, pushing her knees against her chest as he slid in and out of her pussy, harder and deeper with every thrust. She’d never been so wet for him, so needy.
“Arianne,” he growled, reaching for her face. He wanted to look into her eyes, to see her face the moment he finally brought her to ecstasy.
But he couldn’t reach her. Not in the way that mattered most.
Hair splayed on the carpet before him like a dark flame, her cheeks pink and glistening, her eyes closed, her mouth parted, Arianne was gone. She was oceans away on another continent, and no matter how hard he held on, Jared just couldn’t keep her here.
He could only give her what she wanted. Him. Hard and fast.
He repositioned her legs and lowered his head, desperate to take her nipples into his mouth. He bit until she screamed, and then he licked, soothing the sting of his teeth, kissing and sucking her into his mouth, his lips caressing the silky skin of her breast while his tongue pressed against the stiff, rosy peak.
She panted and thrashed, and he turned his attention to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, biting and licking, tasting every part of her, marking her.
Fingernails raked down his back, digging into his flesh as he drove into her pussy, then slid out slowly, driving back in again, deeper and harder, faster, so hot and wet it made his head spin.
Arianne screamed his name, writhing against him, matching his fevered pace.
“More,” she begged. “God, don’t stop.”
He’d never had her like this before, so hard and raw, so desperate. Fuck, it was so hot, so intense. But behind the explosive passion, behind the fire in her eyes, Jared saw the god-awful truth.
All of this—the bruising kisses, the claws, the biting, the cries of pain and ecstasy that he drew out from the depths of her darkness with every thrust—was her last stand.
Arianne fucked him with reckless abandon, driven by a fear and madness he couldn’t see, couldn’t touch.
She fucked him like she knew it would be the very last time.
She fucked him like she was saying goodbye.
Jared grabbed her and rolled her over until she was on top again, and she rode him until he was raw, raked her nails over his flesh, bit his lip and drew blood, and still Jared let her take, and take, and take. All of it, all of him. Whatever she wanted. Whatever she needed. He let her fuck him so hard, for so long, that when they finally reached that breaking point, their cries of passion were indistinguishable from each other; he could no longer tell where he ended and she began. They came hard and fast, bucking wildly against each other, flesh slapping against flesh, teeth bared, wringing out every last drop until they were utterly spent.
Sticky and entwined and unable to move, they fell asleep on the carpet to the sounds of their ragged heartbeats.
And when Jared woke the next morning, his body on fire, the taste of her still lingering in his mouth, he knew before he even rose from the floor that the woman he so desperately loved was gone.
Just fucking gone.
Chapter Eleven
Ari’s heels clacked against the cold marble floor as she strode purposefully across the hotel lobby, her chin held high, shoulders squared. She wore a pair of black suit pants and a matching blazer over a cream-colored silk blouse, her hair in a French twist, a pair of thin leather gloves to cover the bandages. To everyone in the lobby she looked like an ordinary businesswoman ready to make a deal over brunch, pioneer a new venture, take over a company.
No one knew she was about to risk her life.
Especially not Jared.
Her heart seized up at the thought of him waking up alone this morning, searching, wondering. She’d almost left him a note, but that would’ve only made things harder. She’d said her goodbyes last night, and she sensed Jared had known it, too.
Now, her entire body ached with the memories of their passion, her lips swollen, her back and knees scraped from the carpet, her pussy still throbbing from every deep, delicious thrust. She’d never taken it so rough before. So intense.
God, she’d needed it. Needed to be consumed, devoured, wrecked. Needed to be punished and pleasured. Leaving without another word was simply penance, the final sentence for all of the terrible things she’d done.
And the things she had yet to do.
Ari gripped her briefcase and followed the curve of the lobby toward the elevators, taking one up to the 35th floor. As the doors opened into the exclusive French restaurant, Ari steadied herself with a few deep breaths and a whispered reminder of why she was here.
Tasha.
“Arianne Holbrook,” she announced to the maître d'. “I’m meeting some associates for brunch.”
“Of course,” he said coolly. “Your party is already here. Would you like me to check your attaché?”
Ari tightened her grip on the leather handle, forcing a smile. “Thank you. That won’t be necessary.”
The man nodded and led Ari to a set of double doors at the back of the dining room. He knocked once, and the doors swung inward, guarded by a bald, beefy man in a black suit and maroon shirt, no tie. Half of his face was covered in tattoos. The other half was covered in scars.
Ari forced herself not to stare.
The man dismissed the maître d' and shut the doors behind Ari, and then approached her, gesturing for her to open the case. She did as asked, and he quickly examined the contents while she took in the scene before her.
The private room was large and ornate, bathed in soft light from the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Union Square. The walls were a rich, buttery yellow that did nothing to warm the chill in her bones.
In front of the windows, seven men in dark suits rose from a large dining table, their eyes fixed on hers as the man by the door closed her briefcase and patted her down with quick, precise movements. The guard finished up,
and then grabbed her by the elbow, squeezing just hard enough to let her know who was in charge.
As if I needed the reminder…
“This way,” he said, escorting her to the table.
At the head of the table, a man with a shock of white hair and steel-gray eyes nodded as she approached. He didn’t smile.
“Miss Holbrook,” he said gruffly. His accent was thick, and when he gestured for her to take a seat, she saw the gun holstered at his side.
Berezin.
“Please,” he said. “Join us.”
She did as he asked, and the men around her followed suit, resuming their seats. Every one of the men had tattoos and scars—on their faces, their necks, their hands, peeking out of shirt collars—ornate symbols and words that mapped the stories of their lives, their crimes. She remembered her father’s warnings and wondered, belatedly, whether she’d end up as another tattoo in their long and colorful stories.
The thought made her shiver, but if anyone else noticed her discomfort, he didn’t say.
Berezin seemed to be considering his next words, while the rest of the group stared at her unflinchingly. A man with a snake tattooed around his neck looked her up and down, and Ari had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering.
Among the seven of them there was probably more blood on their hands than a small army, and at any moment, any one of them could decide to make her the main course.
Her tongue felt fat and useless, her mouth dry.
Tasha. Tasha. Tasha.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” she finally said, as evenly as she could manage.
Berezin nodded. “Your father… he was an honorable man. I was sad to hear about his passing. Four years now, was it?” he asked.
“Five years, sir,” Ari said.
“And your mother?”
“She left when I was young.”
The man shook his head, his frown deepening. “Such shame. Two young girls. No parents.”
Bared to the Billionaire: The Complete Series Page 44
