Mad Love

by Ashlyn Mathews

  Unless I don’t talk at all. I’ll tell them and the authorities the minimum. If my grandfather suggests I go to therapy, I’ll refuse.

  I will bear the weight of my humiliation alone, having put myself in this situation. I should have listened to my grandfather and my cousins, that every time I snuck out of my family’s estate, I was in danger of being kidnapped.

  It sucks to be a Lexington. It’s horrible to be born with two-color eyes. I’m a freak of nature. A free spirit who shouldn’t have rebelled. I should have stayed within the walls of my grandfather’s place. I should have listened to my older, wiser cousin, Roman.

  Instead, I didn’t listen, and this darkness, this aloneness, is my just punishment. Inside the coffin, there is the hissing of the oxygen. I lie still and clasp my hands over my chest. Her skin beneath mine moves, and I squeeze my eyes shut, my heart beating a mile a minute against my ribcage.

  The coffin lurches forward. My skin slides over her skin. Her skin peels off her bones and sticks to my skin. Bile rises in my throat. The coffin moves faster, like it’s being pulled across the wooden floor of his house, out the door, and onto the field in the back of his farm. The coffin jostles, and more of her skin comes off her body and clings to mine. Then there isn’t movement forward. Instead, there is movement downward.

  Oh, God, oh, God, he is going back on his word. He doesn’t intend on taking the ransom and giving me my freedom. He intends on burying me alive. I’m going to die. No one will know where I’m buried. I’ll die alone. I didn’t get the chance to tell my family I love them.

  I love them.

  I love my family.

  I pound on the lid. Pound on it until my palms throb.

  “Let me out. Let me out, dammit. Please. Oh, God, please.”

  He doesn’t listen. He leaves me like that until the oxygen stops hissing. The coffin is pulled from out of the ground, and when he removes the lid, his face is covered with a black mask, as usual. Only his eyes are visible.

  My kidnapper removes the oxygen canister from between my legs and replaces it with another before nailing the lid back on. I am lowered back into the ground. The corpse’s ribs poke into my back. He removes and replaces the canister a few more times, and soon, I lose track of time.

  I don’t see the light of day until my rescuers unearth me from the ground.

  16

  Blaise

  I wake up drenched in sweat and my mouth sandpaper dry.

  I throw off the covers, ditch my tank top and sleep shorts, and wrap the satin sheet around my nakedness. Covering my yawn, I pad to the kitchen and wet my mouth with a glass of water. The blinking lights from the city skyline call to me, and I curl up in the overstuffed chair and stare at the view.

  I can understand now why Maddox loves San Francisco. The city is lively and bright. It would be difficult to feel lonely here when there is so much to do and so much to see. Then how come I can’t get rid of the ache in my chest? Why do I feel more alive at my cabin surrounded by the sounds of wildlife and the bubbling of the small creek in the back?

  I rest my head on the chair. Why did I challenge Maddox when he demanded the truth for the reason I kept my grandfather’s death from him? Why didn’t I tell him how much danger I am in? Isn’t that what married couples do, they talk and work through problems together? Except our marriage isn’t conventional. It’s a business deal. And the way he treated me earlier confirms that what we have is all business and no pleasure.

  Had it been a different woman he found in his pool, he would proposition and make her feel good too. I’m by no means special. It’s not me he wanted, per se. Any woman would do. Or he is intrigued by my peculiarity enough to indulge my “requests.” God, I’m a fool for hoping he would see me for me. That I’m a woman and not a freak.

  The ache in my chest not going away, I press my face into the satin. My throat burns with unshed tears. I’m right. Forever-after isn’t in my future. Forever-after is for someone normal. Normal is whatever woman is with Maddox, wrapped in his arms.

  “Blaise?”

  Speak of the devil. I raise my head. He’s shirtless and his PJ bottoms hang low on his hips. His dark hair is a tousled mess.

  “Uh, hi, Maddox. I didn’t think you were home.” I start to rise from the chair.

  He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t leave. Let’s talk.”

  “It’s three in the morning.”

  “Exactly. Not sleeping well, baby?”

  Baby. I smile, though I shouldn’t be pleased he’s back to calling me baby rather than darling.

  “I have nightmares,” I admit.

  “About your kidnapping?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I make you tea? My sis likes to drink tea on the hot side when she has trouble sleeping.”

  “Tea is good. Thank you.” I again rise from the seat.

  In a soft voice, he tells me to leave everything to him. “Let me take care of you, Blaise. Will you do that?”

  Is this his olive branch for the outburst earlier?

  “Okay, sure. Thank you.”

  With his back to me as he makes our teas, I take the chance to study my husband’s state of half-nakedness. His shoulders are wide. His back is stacks upon stacks of muscles. Tapered waist. Long legs. He turns, and with two mugs in his hands, he walks over and sets our teas on the coasters that are on the windowsill.

  “Ah, so that’s why they’re there.”

  “A gift for my sis.”

  Each coaster is in the shape of a heart. One is blood red and the other a royal blue. “They’re beautiful. It was very thoughtful of you.”

  “It’s how I get her to visit. I bribe her with gifts and tea.”

  I laugh. “I used to do the same with Roman when I lived with him, but it wasn’t to get him to visit me. It was to get him to stop being a class-5 clinger.”

  He raises a brow. “Class-5 clinger?”

  “Yes, you know, the worst kind. They follow you everywhere, bathroom included. I told him enough was enough unless he wanted to watch me ‘handle’ a tampon. That stopped him.” I reach for my mug, and cupping it with both hands, I sip my tea. “Mmm, chamomile and hibiscus.”

  “My sister’s favorite.”

  “She has yummy taste.”

  We sip our teas in silence and stare at the view. The silence is comfortable. The satin on my skin is cool. The warmth of the tea, soothing.

  “I’m sorry to have woken you. I didn’t think I made that much noise.”

  “You didn’t. I don’t sleep well either.”

  “Nightmares?”

  “Nah. Too much on my mind.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  The city lights twinkle, this mix of red, white, and yellow lights.

  “Business.”

  “Does business keep you up a lot?”

  “Too much, unfortunately.”

  I didn’t share with my family what my kidnapper did, yet they love me and continue to though I pushed them away those first few months after I was rescued. I’m grateful my family gave me the gift of time and patience rather than give up on me. I can offer the same courtesy to Maddox.

  “What kinds of things, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  I glance sidelong at him, having this insane urge to reach out and pat his arm. To reassure him that I’m here if he wants to talk, but if he’s okay with not sharing, I’m fine with that too.

  “Contracts. Meetings. Politics. There are days my brain is ready to implode.”

  “I imagine there are a lot of moving pieces in the day and life of a real estate developer. And one who is in demand as you are.”

  “Delved into my life some, Blaise?”

  “I know as much as the public does.”

  “The tabloids?”

  “And the business journals Roman makes me read.”

  “He’s prepping you to help with the family’s business.”

  “The nightlife
of the Bay Area doesn’t interest me.” I set my mug down on the heart-shaped coaster, and bringing my leg up and onto the chair, I hug my knee to my chest.

  “The nightlife would befit an insomniac such as yourself.”

  “How—”

  “I overheard one of your guys at your grandfather’s party.”

  “You were eavesdropping?”

  “Well, are you?”

  “I asked first,” I say, having this ridiculous urge to stomp my feet.

  In the corner of my eye, I catch Maddox smiling before he coughs into his hand.

  “I don’t consider it eavesdropping when it was said loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear.”

  “I won’t dispute your claim, but for the record, my men are very discreet. Anything they have to say is said above a whisper.”

  “If they didn’t, will you reprimand them? What would their just punishment be for disobeying your orders? Would you withhold their pay? Tar and feather them, like in the Dark Ages?”

  He’s teasing. I face him, and when he stares back, I roll my eyes.

  “Again, for the record, my men are loyal and follow orders to the T. They don’t disobey, and should they ever, I make them recite my rules.”

  “And what are they, may I ask?”

  I open my mouth. He sticks up his index finger.

  “First, answer the question. Are you or are you not an insomniac?”

  “I am.”

  Satisfied grin from him. “Now the rules.”

  “Bossy,” I say. “But since you’re my husband, I’ll tell.”

  His grin transforms into a smile I can only describe as delighted.

  “My rules for my men are: respect, protect, and trust one another.”

  “That’s it?”

  I shrug. “That’s it. So, tell me something I don’t know about you, and I’ll share something you might not know about me.”

  “Everything you read in the tabloids is a bunch of BS.”

  “Ah, so all those women you were romantically linked with you’ve never met in real life, right?” I tease.

  Slight smile on his face. “I take that back. I did wine and dine the celebrities I was linked to, but that’s the extent of the relationship.”

  “Are you a romantic at heart?”

  “I’m not for romance, Blaise. I’m after what happens in the bedroom.”

  “I see.”

  “My apologies if you thought there would be more from our arrangement than the physical.”

  “No need to apologize.” I reach for my tea and take a sip. The tea has cooled down, lending no comfort to the rawness in my throat.

  I’m right. Maddox Stassi is a heartbreak waiting to happen, and falling for him would be a disaster in the making.

  “I don’t expect anything other than the physical, anyway. I’m a non-believer in romance and love.”

  “Because of your kidnapping?”

  “From hearing my men and my cousins talking.”

  “Eavesdropping?”

  “Guilty,” I admit with a sheepish grin. “The women they’ve dated want more time and attention. I thought maybe my cousins and my friends are in the wrong, but observing how they interact with them, that’s not the case. They are very attentive men.”

  Holding on tight to the satin sheet with one hand and the mug with the other, I rise from my chair.

  “I don’t want to be a source of frustration for any man. My oddities are enough to aggravate one.”

  Before he can answer, I pad over to the sink and set my mug in it. Then I return for his.

  “Are you done? Can I put it away for you?”

  He nods, and I reach for his mug on the coaster on the windowsill. My hair falls forward, and thick fingers weave in and out of the inky strands.

  “I find your oddities fascinating, Blaise.”

  “Maybe in the beginning.” I straighten and walk over to the sink, setting his mug next to mine. “Later on, they’ll stop fascinating you.”

  “Like you, I’m not a fan of black clothing. I prefer colors in my wardrobe. The insomniac thing mirrors mine. We should spend a day sleeping and the night clubbing. As for silk and satin, they are my new favorite fabrics.”

  Catching his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window, I take my seat, letting the satin fall off my shoulders and around my elbows, giving Maddox a glimpse of my cleavage. He stares at the hint of skin and licks his lips. I hold back my smile. Can I give what he suggested a try? Could he and I sleep all day and party the night away, clubbing and just living life without a care in the world?

  “Does anything help you sleep?” I return us to the topic at hand, the idea of sweaty bodies rubbing against mine on the dance floor upping my heart rate.

  “A swim.”

  Another thing we have in common, and I like that a lot.

  “A swim helps me too. There’s a pool in my Montana home.”

  “I saw.”

  “I miss my pool.”

  “I bet you do. You went for a swim yet you’re up in the middle of the night. Swimming must not be as effective. Something else might work better for you.”

  His gaze is heated, and I concentrate on his choice of words rather than the ache between my legs.

  “We’re up in the middle of the morning,” I clarify.

  “Toe-mae-toe, toe-ma-toe.”

  I smile. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” He smiles back.

  “You didn’t go for a swim when you returned here?”

  “With as much action as I got last night, I figured I’d sleep until the afternoon.”

  “Got that much tail?” I ask.

  “Tail?”

  “Isn’t that what the guys say when they’ve gotten laid?”

  “Gotten laid?” His smile widens. “Been around guys much, Blaise?”

  “Well, did you?”

  “Did I get laid? No. I drank too much and made an ass of myself on the dance floor, but no getting tail for this guy.”

  “So is that a no to swimming?” I ask, pleased he wasn’t with a woman or women.

  When Granger was here, we ran a check of Maddox and the women and men he surrounds himself with.

  For as wealthy and powerful as he is, he doesn’t have many male friends. I find that to be interesting. Maddox seems like a man’s man. I didn’t find it the least interesting that he is into threesomes. Or that the women think it’s something to be proud of posting on social media scandalous pictures of them with the playboy billionaire.

  “Does a shower count?” His blue-green eyes twinkle.

  “You know it doesn’t.”

  He stretches his long legs in front of him and stares at the view with his hands tented over his mouth. “What made last night different from the last time we went for a swim?”

  “Do you have to ask?” I also stare at the view, grateful the city lights aren’t showing the obvious, that I’m blushing up to my hairline. It’s the downfall of having pale skin.

  “Enlighten me, Blaise. And use the dirty words. They turn me on when you say them.”

  He’s blunt, holding nothing back. I give it to him in kind.

  “You touching me through the satin. Your mouth on my pussy through the silk. You getting me off with your tongue and your mouth, licking up my slit. Sucking on my clit. Me coming hard on your face.”

  He groans. Utters a husky, “Fuuucck. You are hot. Do you, baby, want to get off again?”

  I do, but can I keep what’s happening between us strictly physical? I feel safe with Maddox. He melts my panties with looks alone. If I can do this, I could get over my revulsion of skin on skin. I could someday have a “normal” relationship.

  “No falling for one another? No asking for more? What we have will be a friends-with-benefits arrangement only, right?”

  “Right.”

  No hesitation. No questions. Just one word from him, said with conviction.

  “I would like for you to touch me again, but do you mind if we hav
e a do-over? Get to know one another better before we move at lightning speed?”

  “Forget how I made you come on my face? How you licked your pussy juices off the glove? How sexy you are whimpering and moaning into my mouth with every stroke from my tongue?”

  “Yes,” I squeak, squeezing my thighs together.

  “I won’t forget anytime soon, Blaise. And what you want, I’ll give, baby. You control the pace. Are we good?”

  More than good. This is my chance to give Maddox the truth.

  “There’s something I should tell you. With what I tell, you might decide you would rather cut your ties now, and I’ll gladly agree to annulling the marriage.”

  Tucking my leg under me, I sit straight in the armchair, finding comfort in the cool satin wrapped around my body.

  “The morning of my grandfather’s death, Rylan and his security team found a note taped on my bedroom window from who we assume is my kidnapper. That same morning, my great-uncle tells me I’m written out of my grandfather’s will. I”—I puff out a breath, missing my grandfather dearly—“I think my kidnapper has inside knowledge of my grandfather’s plan of leaving me without protection and security.”

  “The private estate in Montana. The bodyguards. Living life away from the world until you die if you wanted to. That’s what his billions would have given you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why not sell me the car for an inflated price? I would have paid whatever price you asked for.”

  “I thought of that, but the money doesn’t take care of the other issue—time and security. Marriage to you buys me time for my cousins and my team to find my kidnapper. Marriage to you also gives me access to your secured penthouse and security team.”

  I don’t tell him his vigilante act has the power to make my kidnapper have second thoughts about hurting me; otherwise, Maddox will rain down hell on him.

  “Being out of the limelight also gives me time to figure out how I can make money to survive on my own.”

  “No hitching your cart to a rich husband, eh, Blaise?”