I can’t ever recall having such a strong, physical reaction to a guy upon sight. None of the guys back home have affected me so potently, except for Trent—he makes my skin crawl with the barest of looks—but this is the complete opposite.
One glance from this stranger heats my blood and stirs desire low in my belly. I cock my head to the side, intrigued and aroused, my previous self-destructive mission all but forgotten.
We don’t speak. We just stare at one another and an electrical current charges the small space between us. My body emerges from its semi-comatose state, and I’m equally hot and cold. A shiver works its way through me, and I wrap my arms around my slim frame, desperately trying to ward off the biting cold air clawing at my pale skin.
“You need to get warm.” The stranger extends his hand. “Come with me.”
I wrap my hand around his without hesitation, and we tread through the water back toward the shore. His callused palm is firm against my skin, sending a flurry of fiery tingles coasting up and down my arm. We don’t speak as we emerge from the sea, walking across the clammy sand toward a small wooden cabin in the near distance. I hadn’t noticed it when I first arrived because I had singular focus.
A thin stream of smoke creeps out of a narrow chimney, and I watch the cloudy spirals with fascination as we walk hand in hand toward the neat wooden structure. In the distance, a sprawling mansion occupies prime real estate, the property submerged in darkness at this late hour.
He pushes open the door, stepping aside to allow me to enter first. A blast of heat slaps me in the face from the roaring open fire, and my body relaxes for the first time in days. The cabin is small but cozy and welcoming. The main room contains a compact kitchen with a stove, sink, and a long counter with three stools. On the right is a three-seater couch positioned in front of a coffee table and a wall-mounted TV over the fireplace. A side room suggests a bedroom with en suite bathroom, and that’s the extent of the space.
My bedroom is bigger than this entire cabin, but it isn’t half as inviting.
A bright rug resting atop the varnished hardwood floor, the soft colorful throw on the couch, and an abundance of vibrant cushions injects a comfortable, lived-in feel. The old bookcase tucked into the corner between the wall and the door is crammed full of books, DVDs, and mementos, creating a homey atmosphere. The only light is from the flickering flames of the fire and an old-fashioned lamp on top of the coffee table.
He shuts the door and steers me in front of the fire. On autopilot, I raise my palms, relishing the heat as it wraps around my chilly skin. He moves around behind me, but I don’t turn to look. I stand in front of the fire, allowing it to thaw my frozen limbs and fracture the layer of ice surrounding my heart.
“Sit down,” he commands in that rugged voice of his, draping a blanket around my upper body.
I sink to the ground without a word, tucking my knees into my chest as I peer at him. He drops down in front of me, gently uncurling my legs, drawing one into his lap as he dries my damp skin with a soft blue towel. We stare at one another as he dries both my feet and legs, and that same pull from before pulses between us, rendering some invisible connection.
“I feel like I know you from somewhere, yet I’ve never seen you before,” I admit, eventually finding my voice.
He stalls with his hands on my feet, piercing my gaze with his intense chocolate-colored one. “I know,” he says after a few beats.
When he tosses the towel aside, I move closer to him, sitting up on my knees with my body resting on my ankles. I keep my eyes locked on his as I reach up and touch the shorn side of his head, my fingers trailing over the velvety soft hair, tracing the edge of his skull tattoo. It was too dark outside to notice it, but now, I’m even more intrigued by this elusive, hot stranger who appeared out of nowhere to rescue me.
The tattoo is in the shape of a cross, and I wonder if the symbolism means something personal to him. All I know is it’s sexy as hell, and my body naturally responds to him, arching in closer.
He pulls my hand away from his head, pressing a feather-light kiss to the sensitive skin on my wrist, and I feel his tender touch all the way to the tips of my toes. His gentle touch is in direct contrast to his edgy look. With his defined abs, bulging biceps, and ink-covered tan skin, he looks like the quintessential bad boy every girl gets warned about. “Why were you out there?” he asks, keeping his gaze locked on mine.
I could lie, but I’m tired of all the lies.
I’m tired of saying what’s expected and pretending to be someone I’m not.
“I didn’t want to feel anymore.”
There’s a pregnant pause as he stares at me, no doubt wondering if I meant that sincerely. “What would you have done if I hadn’t spotted you?” he inquires, still trying to puzzle me out.
I shrug. “Kept walking most likely.” Allowed the sea to claim me as I’d originally intended when I’d given Oscar, my bodyguard, the slip, and driven here.
“Who are you? What’s your name?”
I cup his face, deciding on the truth again. “I’m nobody. I’m invisible. I don’t exist except to obey their commands.”
A slight frown creases his brow. “If you’re in trouble. If—”
“Don’t.” I cut across him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Silence engulfs us for a few beats. “What do you want?” he asks, his voice dropping a notch, sounding wholly seductive, although I’m unsure if that’s on purpose or not.
“I want to feel something real,” I reply without uncertainty. “I want to let go of these chains that bind my body. To feel like I’m in control even if it’s only an illusion.” My eyes stay locked on his, and electricity crackles in the air again.
He rakes his gaze up and down the length of my body, his heated stare lingering on my chest as my nipples harden. His eyes flit to my mouth before he licks his lips and drags his gaze upward. His eyes bore into mine, and butterflies scatter in my chest, my heart beating faster and faster as my body heats in a whole new way. “I can help with that.”
This time, there’s no doubting his intent, and my core aches with need. My gaze drills into his eyes, projecting my acceptance and permission.
Nodding slowly, he pulls me onto his lap, circling his arms around my waist. “Are you sure?”
I bob my head. “Please make me feel alive. Make me feel like me. Remind me why I should live.”
It’s crazy.
I don’t know him.
He doesn’t know me.
But I feel more hopeful in this moment than I have in years.
Slowly, he brings his face to mine, brushing his lips against my mouth. I close my eyes as my body sags in relief. Snaking my arms around his neck, I angle my head as he caresses my mouth with his luscious lips. His kiss is unhurried and worshipful. His mouth moves leisurely and seductively against mine, and this kiss is unlike any I’ve ever experienced before.
Trent kisses with years of pent-up anger and aggression behind his punishing lips, and it makes me feel dead on the inside. This stranger’s tender kisses unravel the knots that usually twist in my gut, breaking through the walls that cage my heart, allowing warmth and pleasure to invade every single part of me.
I meld my lips and my body to his, straddling his hips and gasping as his hard length nudges against the softest part of me. He rocks his hips gently in expert, measured movements, and a burst of desire shoots through me, overtaking logic and warning and common sense.
I shouldn’t be doing this here with some guy I don’t know.
It would enrage my father, my twin brother, Drew, and my fiancé, Trent, if they saw me, but that thought only spurs me on, strengthening my resolve.
He stands, holding me to him, and I tighten my legs around his waist as he walks toward the bedroom. Our mouths never separate as he lowers me to the bed, and we gradually shed our outer layers.
I’ve never been naked in front of any guy before. Trent repeatedly tries to strip me bare, but I enjoy
denying him. Now, I spread my legs for this beautiful, rugged stranger, with no hint of nerves or vulnerability, admiring his gorgeous body as he pulls a condom out of his bedside table and rolls it over his impressive length.
We don’t talk, but words are redundant. He settles between my thighs, bringing his hot mouth to my pussy, and I almost lift off the bed as he devours me with his tongue and his fingers, quickly bringing me over the edge.
No man has ever done that to me before, and the pleasurable sensations coursing through my body are wholly new. When I come down from the best orgasm of my life, he climbs over me, kissing me passionately as his hands caress my small breasts. His roughened fingers tweak my nipples like he’s plucking strings on a guitar, rolling them skillfully until they’re taut peaks, and it’s not long before I’m writhing in need again.
He positions himself at my entrance, stalling to look at me. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, and another little chip melts off the block around my heart.
No one has ever cared to ask me what I need or what I want, and tears prick my eyes at the obvious concern in his eyes.
“Yes. I want to do this with you.”
His eyes are glued to mine as he slowly inches inside me. He stops halfway in, sweeping his fingers across my cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” He nudges in a little more. “And so tight.” He flexes his jaw, and I can tell he’s exercising caution. When he pushes in a little more, a sharp sting of pain jolts through me, and I wince.
His eyes pop wide as he holds himself still. Shock splays across his face. “You’re a virgin?” he splutters.
A sly smirk slips across my mouth. “I was.”
“Fuck.” He leans down, kissing me so sweetly I feel like crying. “You should’ve said.”
And have you change your mind? Not likely.
Thoughts of losing my virginity to that psycho Trent were part of the reason drawing me to the sea tonight. I’ve been holding him off for years, but with the wedding approaching, I know I can’t hold out much longer.
Denying him that victory only adds to the joy of this moment.
But it’s way more than wanting to one-up Trent.
I want to give my body to this gorgeous stranger.
To enjoy this one night where I can take something for myself before returning to the gilded cage I live in.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, bucking my hips up in encouragement. “I want this with you. Right here. Right now. Nothing has made so much sense in a long time.”
He inspects me for so long I fear he will pull out and change his mind, but then he pushes the rest of the way inside me, and I swallow my cry of pain. He peppers little kisses along my neck and my collarbone, gently kneading my tits as he slowly rocks back and forth inside me. “I’ll go slow until it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he whispers across my now overheated skin. “And if you want me to stop, I will.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” I say, threading my fingers through the longish dark strands of hair now falling over his strong brow. “Keep going.”
He makes love to me then, only picking up his pace when I confirm it no longer hurts, but he’s never rough, completely attentive to my needs, and he brings me to a second orgasm as his own climax hits.
I’m sprawled across his warm body, a few hours later, listening to the comforting beat of his heart, watching his chest inflate and deflate in slumber, wishing I could stay here in this little beach cabin with this beautiful stranger for eternity.
But I know that’s only wishful thinking. A fantasy I can’t entertain. Bringing anyone into my life risks theirs, and that’d be a poor way of rewarding this man who has given me a night I will cherish for the rest of my life.
Although I hate to leave him like this, it’s for the best.
He can’t know who I am or understand the implications of what we’ve just done.
Reluctantly, I ease out of his warm bed and his life, feeling a pang of overwhelming sadness as I get dressed, preparing myself to leave him behind. He looks peaceful in slumber, like a tattooed guardian angel, arriving at the perfect moment to help put things in perspective.
If I’d followed through tonight, they would have won, and I know my dead mother wouldn’t want that for me.
I’m stronger than that.
I might be a pawn in a game I don’t want to play, but that doesn’t mean I can’t win.
I need to strategize.
To plan my victory so I can escape the tortured future lying in wait for me.
Determination surges through my veins, and I smile adoringly at the beautiful man who has given me so much more than his body. “Thank you,” I whisper, blowing him a kiss. I wish I could taste his lips one final time, but I don’t want to wake him. It’s better that I leave like this.
My hand is curled around the door handle when I spy a pencil and sketchpad on the coffee table. Without stopping to second-guess myself, I tear a strip off the end of a blank page and pen a brief note.
You can’t possibly know this, but you saved my life in more ways than one tonight. You have reminded me why it’s important to survive. Given me the strength to fight for what I want. And you have given me a precious memory I will hold close until my dying breath. Thank you. A.
As I close the door and head back toward my car, back to a life I despise, I know I’ll be reliving this special night every day for the rest of my life.
But I had no idea that sleeping with this stranger would set certain things in motion. Things that couldn’t be undone. And I certainly had no idea that I’d come to hate him and desperately resent giving him my virginity.
Chapter One
“Get your hands off me!” I shove at Trent’s broad shoulders, pushing him back a couple steps. He immediately reclaims the space, thrusting his face into mine. “This fucking frigid act is getting old, darling,” he sneers, enunciating the last word so I'm left in no doubt of his derision.
Aesthetically, Trent is a gorgeous guy—golden-blond hair, striking blue-gray eyes, strong masculine jaw, high cheekbones, and an impressive body that is ripped in all the right places—but the person behind the exterior is repulsive and totally beyond redemption.
Believe me, I’ve tried. Once I realized I was stuck with the douche, I did my utmost to bring out the best in him.
But you can’t extract something that doesn’t exist.
Trent isn’t a nice guy.
Trent isn’t a decent guy.
Trent embodies everything wrong with the society we live in and everything I want to run screaming from.
But I have no control over my life, and I’m on this speeding train regardless of how badly I want to jump off.
His hands dig into my hips, and he thrusts his obvious arousal into my stomach. I work hard to swallow my disgust. Although it’s tempting to push his buttons more, he’s been drinking, and I remember what happened the last time we got into it when he was hammered. A shiver tiptoes up my spine at the memory of him shoving his cock into my mouth while he had me pinned on the bed, his ass pressing down on my chest, as he fucked my mouth with no mercy.
How can a guy look so angelic and be so evil? Trent grinds against me, pawing at my chest and slobbering all over my neck.
At first glance, his mouth is utterly kissable until he opens it, shattering the illusion with the venom that regularly spews from his mouth.
Trent is the stereotypical rich kid. Spoiled, arrogant, and smarmy. He has sailed through life, handed everything on a silver platter, and he thinks his shit doesn’t stink. Most everyone trips over themselves to give him everything he needs, especially the posse of women who fight for a temporary place in his bed, and his ego is floating somewhere in orbit.
Which is why he can’t fathom my lack of interest and my disdain. Especially since we’re engaged and scheduled to walk up the aisle next year.
“Stop!” I push his chest, forcing his vile mouth away from me. “My father’s home, and all it’ll take is one scream,” I threate
n.
He narrows his eyes, and his mouth twists into a malevolent grin. “Have you forgotten Daddy Dearest is the one who brokered our marriage deal? Or the reason he’ll do anything to ensure it goes ahead?” He takes a step forward, reclaiming the space between us again.
I prod one finger in his firm chest. “Have you forgotten your father was the one who insisted I remain a virgin until our wedding night?” I take his evil grin and throw him back a smug one. “Or has he changed a generations-old rule because you can’t keep your grabby hands to yourself?” I tilt my chin up. “Call one of your fuck buddies. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to suck your dick.”
Trent smirks as he extracts his cell, holding it to his ear. I fold my arms across my chest, waiting for the charade to play out.
The funny thing is, he genuinely thinks I care.
News flash—I couldn’t care less.
“I need your ass,” he barks into the phone, not even attempting to disguise it’s anything but a booty call. “No, Rochelle. I literally mean I need your ass. I’m filling all holes tonight, baby. Be ready.”
Asshole. He knows how I feel about that bitch.
Grinding my teeth, I work hard to keep my annoyance at bay.
I know Trent fucks around. A lot. And, I honestly couldn’t give two shits. I shudder to think what’d happen if he didn’t have his fuck buddies. Although Christian Montgomery made it a condition of the marital agreement negotiated with my father when I was ten—yes, ten—that I remain a virgin until my wedding night, Trent has been badgering me for sex for the past two years. I’d rather skin myself alive than willingly give myself to him, so I’ve spent two years fighting him off.
Occasionally, I’ll feel generous and blow him.
Usually, he’ll just take what he wants.
But he’s a selfish bastard with no regard for my needs, so it normally means he fucks my mouth, forcing me to swallow, while he tugs at my breasts, sometimes making them bleed.
Releasing Keanu Page 26
