by Madison Faye
She gives me a hard look
“Not my boyfriend.”
“I would hope not.”
She glances round, sipping the water bottle.
“Two million?”
I nod, and she whistles.
“You sure you’re not a doctor?”
“Lawyer.”
I decide not to tell her who for. I decide not to mention that I’ve actually gotten Joey out of time before, a fact I fucking hate even more now than I did before.
“Wow,” she whispers. “Nice gig.”
What can I say, I work for some bad people who pay me very well to keep them out of jail.
“Let me take a look at that. Hang on.”
I jog to my bathroom and grab a first aid kit before I return to the couch and kneel down next to her. I move close — so close that I can smell her shampoo as I lean in to take a look at the cut. I wet an antibiotic swab and dab at the abrasion, but she winces.
“It’s fine, really.”
“Don’t fidget,” I growl, trying so hard to ignore the scent of her, or the heat radiating from her body.
Don’t be hard, I tell myself. Don’t be fucking hard as stone as you help the girl in need.
…The girl you paid to be “yours.” I could punch myself. I mean, what the fuck was I thinking?
“Forget my place, how do you live in this building?”
She arches a sharp brow at me as I bite my tongue.
“No offense.”
“Oh, none taken,” she says sarcastically.
I hide my grin. Shit, this is the Alice I’ve come to know — that bit of sass, that fire under the surface.
I finish cleaning the abrasion on the side of her head and she takes another sip of water.
“It’s not my place, it’s…”
“His.”
I don’t say Joey’s name, because there’s no reason for me to know his name.
She nods. “Kind of. It’s a weird scenario.”
I bet it is.
“Why the hell did he hit you like that?”
“Money,” she shrugs. “I was supposed to pay him today and forgot to text him back.”
The rage flares up like fire inside of me.
“So he did this?”
She shrugs again. “Yep.”
“Fucking animal,” I hiss, the anger bubbling up hotter and brighter. I want to fucking kill him with my bare hands.
Suddenly, she shakes her head and starts to stand, the blanket still wrapped around her.
“I have to go.”
I frown and shake my head as I put my hand on her arm.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Her brows shoot up. “You can’t keep me here.”
“Yes I can.”
She gives me that sharp, defiant look, but I give it right back. She breaks first and looks away.
Her cheeks are flushed, I like that.
“You can stay here,” I say evenly.
“Okay,” she whispers. The voice is like she’s let her guard down.
She glances back at me, swallowing again as that defiant look turns to just plain scared confusion.
“It really is you, isn’t it?”
I nod and she bites her lip.
“Look, Lewis—”
“My name isn’t Lewis.”
“Fine. But our arrangement—”
“I’m not translating it into actually owning you, pretty girl,” I say with a grin.
She bites her lip, her big blue eyes burning into mine.
“So, you’re my neighbor.” She grins, shaking her head. “Daddy is my neighbor.”
I groan inside at the trigger word that has my cock throbbing rock hard.
“How the fuck does that even happen?”
I laugh deeply. “I honestly have no idea.”
“I mean seriously, what the hell are the odds—”
“Are you really going to use the ‘what are the odds’ line in this town?”
She grins, and then laughs. And then we’re both laughing before we stop and look at each other before glancing away.
It’s a weirdly intimate moment, even though I’ve already seen her naked. I’ve seen her make herself come. And fuck is it hard not to think of that right now.
“What’s your name?”
She bites her lip, her smoldering blue eyes lasering in on mine as she drags her teeth across her bottom lip.
“Your real name.”
She waits another second before she slowly opens her mouth.
“Zoe,” she says quietly. “Three letters, two syllables.”
“I’m Gray. One syllable.”
She smiles and sticks her hand out, and when I close my much larger one around it, I swear every cell in my body comes alive.
“Nice to meet you, Gray.”
“Nice to meet you, Zoe.”
5
Zoe
His place is beautiful. I mean, the condo Joey has — or had — me staying in, which I think he won in some poker game or something, is nice. But this place is another whole level of incredible. It’s got my view, but better, and my floor plan, but five times bigger. And a balcony so big, I’m pretty sure you could ride a bike back and forth across it. Or plant a garden big enough to feed the building or something.
He takes my hand in the living room and leads me down a long, low-lit hallway, past a ton of other rooms.
Yeah, at least five times bigger than mine.
We step into an insanely nice bedroom — immaculate, white everywhere, with a huge bed and two whole walls of glass that look out over the Strip.
“Smooth,” I smirk as we step in.
He turns, arching a brow and grinning. I’m glad he doesn’t get all flustered, it’d be a turnoff.
Turnoff. God, like I need this man to turn me on anymore.
He was sexy on chat. He’s a fucking walking sex dream in the flesh. Sweet, charming, gorgeous, built, and yummy as hell in the flesh. Perfect chin, broad shoulders, muscled and lean looking. Forearms — my God I could stare at him all day.
And then there’s the ink that I can see, curling out from the sleeves of his dress shirt.
White teeth to go with that dark smirk, and searing heat around his eyes.
I swallow thickly, realizing I’m completely staring at him. Yeah, my mystery man is a dream man come to life.
“I was actually going to get you some clothes to wear.”
I’m suddenly suspicious — warning bells going off dimly in my head.
“Are you…” I swallow, my eyes narrowing as I glance around the room for family pictures or something. “Are you married?”
He laughs. Loudly.
“What on earth would make you say that?” Gray glances around with a skeptical look at the supremely masculine design of the room. “Does this place come off like a married guy’s place?”
I chew on that for second before I grin, my face turning hot. “Okay, no, but explain to me how you just so happen to have some women’s clothes I can wear?”
“I don’t.” He grins back. “But I do have a t-shirt that you might drown in, if that works.”
“What, is something wrong with my clothes?”
I mean it as a joke, twirling and glancing down at my open robe and mostly see-through lingerie.
But his look isn’t a joke. The smoldering hunger there and the barely-contained ferocity isn’t a joke at all. I squeeze my legs together, panting a little.
Fuck, I’m wet.
“No,” he says slowly, moving towards me as my pulse thunders inside. “There’s nothing wrong with your clothes.”
“I— I was just, you know, joking,” I say quietly.
“I know.” His eyes burn into me, sending a shiver through my body. He lifts his hand, holding a big white t-shirt that, yes, I’m going to be swimming in. “You might be more comfortable in this, though.”
He slowly reaches past me, and I gasp as his hand brushes my side.
“After your shower.”
His hand pulls back, from behind me, holding a big, soft-looking towel.
I grin again. “Still trying to be smooth?”
Gray chuckles. “Master bath is through there. When you’re done, come meet me in the kitchen.”
His eyes hold mine again, sending a fresh wave of heat through me before he turns and breaks the spell. He starts to walk away, but I stop him.
“Why?”
He turns back. “Excuse me?”
“Why are you doing this?”
I can see the gears behind his eyes turning for one second before he focuses them on me. “Because you’re mine, pretty girl.”
Something hot and pulsing teases through me. Then he turns, and he’s gone, leaving me turned around, upside down, and aching for more.
God this bathroom is huge.
I strip off in the huge mirror that takes up one wall of his enormous master bathroom, and glance at myself. There’ll be some bruises after what Joey did, but I’ll be fine.
I’ve had worse.
The tattoos cover a lot. They always have, which is one of the reasons I’ve collected them over the years. They’re armor — something to protect the me inside. This isn’t the first time I’ve been hit by a guy.
Not by a mile.
My stepdad was the first hitting, and then other touching I hated even more. There was Tim, after high school. That’s the first time I went to the ER and lied.
I sigh, skimming my eyes over my skin once before before I turn and step into the large glass shower. The water is hot, and I feel myself let go a little under the spray.
Gray isn’t like most of the men I’ve known in my life. There’s something extremely different about him.
I roll my eyes as I let the water stream over me.
Right, “different.” God, it sounds like I’ve fallen for him or something supremely silly like that. But then, I have in a way. We’re not strangers, not really. I mean we’ve been talking for weeks.
Well, talking and other things.
I guess as I started to connect more and more to the captivating, sexy mystery man I’d been chatting with, I made up a physical version of him in my head. But this? The real Gray? Yeah, the real him is even better.
The thought crosses my mind that he’s seen me naked a bunch of times, and not the opposite. I’m not bothered by it. I mean I don’t mind being naked. Honestly. But the idea of seeing him though…
I grin to myself. Now that’s a fun thought.
The water keeps beating down, but I freeze under it.
That’s a very fun thought, and it’s one that sticks in my head and won’t let go. After all, we’re both here, in the flesh. He very obviously wants me, and I very much want him, especially after meeting him like this.
…What the hell are we waiting for?
I step from the shower and turn it off. I ignore the towel, and pad out of the bathroom and into his bedroom.
I’m done just having him watch me. I’m done imagining what we’d do if we were together in a room for real. We can stop pretending and act on those thoughts for real right now, and the thought has my body tingling with heat.
…Or is this a bad idea?
I bite my lip, but I keep going. I step through his bedroom, trailing water that drips. The central air of his place teases over my bare skin, puckering my nipples into points and making the little barbells that pierce through them send tingles through me
Hell, it's nothing he hasn’t seen before, right?
I can hear him on the phone, but I have a feeling he’ll be ending that soon.
"It's porn, Dylan,” I hear him growl. “And this isn't the seventies. That shit's going to be around forever."
I wonder what he’s talking about as I step into the kitchen, my whole body aching to finally make good on every single fantasy I’ve had about this mysterious, faceless man who now it turns out has a very real, and very gorgeous face.
Gray turns, and his eyes turn fucking hungry.
"I couldn't find a towel,” I say quietly, squeezing my legs together and running my hands down my torso.
A darkness over his face.
“What are you doing?” he hisses, covering the phone.
I just arch my brows and walk towards him.
He says more into the phone, his eyes locked on me as I stalk towards him.
“Zoe,” he covers the phone again.
“Let me,” I whisper, running my hands up his chest through his t-shirt. “Let me see you this time.”
“Hang on, wait.“
And suddenly, the heat turns off. Suddenly I realize I have no fucking idea what I’m doing and that I must look like a complete psycho or some sort of turbo slut.
“Fuck,” I hiss before I turn and run from the room, feeling like a complete idiot.
6
Zoe
“Hold on.”
His voice growls from the bedroom door, making me freeze as I’m snatching up the big t-shirt he’s left for me.
“Forget it, okay?” I mumble, refusing to look at him. I mean, the man helped me, brought me here, patched me up, and took care of me. And what do I do? Try and jump him like a scene from a bad porno.
“That was…” I shake my head “Maybe I do have a concussion.”
“Stop it.”
I shiver as I feel him march up behind me, and when he pulls me around, I gasp. He knocks the t-shirt from my hands, and my pulse spikes as his big, warm hands slide around my bare waist and yank me against his body.
“You think that was me rejecting you?”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“It does,” he growls, his eyes burning into mine. “It fucking does. I’ve paid you a small fortune to be extremely explicit in wanting you over the last few weeks,” he growls. “You think I don’t want you? It’s the fact that I paid for it that has me…” His growls trail off as he looks away.
“Why did you?” I ask, my voice small.
He looks back at me.
“Seriously, why? You’re…I mean look at you,” I laugh bitterly. “What the hell are you doing on a cam site?”
He doesn’t answer, he just lets those dark, smoky, commanding eyes burn right into me.
“Just bored?”
“It’s long story,” he growls. “But then I saw you.”
I bark out a laugh.
“C’mon, that’s not true. How many girls have you done this with?”
Gray frowns. “None.”
“So why me? What the heck is so special about—”
“Everything!” he growls, his hands tightening on me. “Fuck, where should I even start?”
I blush.
“Disdain and smugness.”
My brow furrows. “Excuse me?”
“That you were laughing at the creeps talking to you, or trying to talk to you, on the site.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yes you were,” he purrs, pulling me into him. I shiver as his rock-hard muscles press against my body through his clothes. “With your eyes, your whole body. I liked that you were comfortable with yourself, with your body and your skin. How you’re not even bothered being nude right now.”
I swallow thickly, staring defiantly right back at him. “You think that makes me some kind of slut?”
“No,” he says with an edge to his voice. “I think it makes you fearless.”
My lip catches between my teeth.
“It’s a chip on your shoulder that I recognize.”
“Oh yeah?” I fire back.
“Yeah, it’s pretty familiar, trust me.”
I laugh humorlessly as I glance around the huge, gorgeous apartment surrounding us.
“Right, lot of hardship in your life, Gray?”
“You have no idea.”
“I have no belief actually.”
He smiles coolly. “You want to trade war stories? Talk about scars, or ink?” I gasp as he pulls back from me and yanks his t-shirt up over his head. He tosses it aside, and I swa
llow thickly as my eyes move over his chiseled, muscled, perfect torso. I take in the swirls and lines of tattoo ink that I only peeked at before, and scars — big ones — that I never would have imagined on a man with this sort of life.
“I liked that you were broken, pretty girl,” he purrs.
“I’m not br—”
“Yes you are.” His deep voice penetrates me, sending a teasing thrill through my body. “Not entirely, but enough that I recognized it in you. The ink, the scars…”
“Yeah, well, lots of guys are into that look.”
“Except it’s not a ‘look’ with you,” Gray growls, pulling me right into him again. I gasp as my nipples graze over his bare chest, his skin so hot against mine.
“It’s not a ’look.’ It’s not pretend, instagram bullshit. It’s you.”
“You don’t know tha—”
“Yes, I do,” he purrs.
I swallow, doing everything I can not to moan as the heat of his body sizzles into mine, or as his hands tighten on my hips, making my head spin.
“So that’s why you, Zoe,” Gray says quietly. One hand slides to my cheek, cupping my jaw. And before I can say another word, he leans down, pulls me tight, and kisses me.
Fiercely.
And I melt into him. I’m panting, moaning into his lips as everything I’ve been holding back, or only fantasizing about for weeks comes roaring out at once. He’s no longer the faceless mystery man who makes me soaking wet and gets my heart pounding like a drum. He’s here, in the flesh — touching me, kissing me, holding me like I’m his to hold and keep.
And I am.
His tongue pushes between my lips, and his growls rumble through me as I moan into his kiss. His hands slide up and down my bare back, teasing my skin and pulling me into him as he claims my mouth. I can feel his thick erection grinding into me, and I whimper at the size of it, pulsing against my belly. I rock my hips into him, hungry for him and wanting him so badly, when suddenly, he pulls back slightly.
“You know, we didn’t get to have our session tonight.”
