Chapter Thirty-Three
H oly .
Fucking.
Shit.
What the hell just happened?
Preston Vos bossy was on a whole other level, and I didn’t know whether to send my kid to bed so I could strip naked and let him fuck me or run out the front door screaming.
Jesus. Jesus.
My underwear was soaked, my legs were trembling and my heart had just run a marathon without me. All I could think about was taking the stairs two at a time and finding his bed.
Oh my God, his bed.
I’d slept in his bed last night, and smelling his intoxicating scent for hours was sheer fucking torture, but this ? Rich, fucking controlling, I own a mega mansion and a yacht, Preston? I had no clue how to handle this Preston.
But my pussy did.
She had a goddamn mind of her own.
My coffee was left on the perfect, shiny white kitchen counter, and my ass was hauling it upstairs before I had a chance to talk some sense into my libido. I turned right and found the master, but not even the breathtaking view downstairs could have prepared me for his bedroom.
Like downstairs, it was all whites and creams and floor-to-ceiling glass that ran the entire length of the huge room, but more, this space was… different.
Preston’s warehouse was all dark colors, dark floors, dark finishes, dark fabrics, everything was industrial and fit the inked version of Preston.
But this bedroom?
Holy shit .
The low, huge king bed with perfectly tucked-in white bedding and a long, low bench seat at the foot of the bed screamed dominant Preston. And the sitting area to the right that had a large, low, white sofa with a return and a chrome and stone coffee table in front of it fit the controlled Preston.
I peeked into a white bathroom with white everything that also had a wall of windows facing the water, and then I scurried across the bedroom to sneak a look at the walk-in closet that was bigger than my entire bedroom. One perfectly neat row of hanging polos and pants, I expected. But the dress shirts and suits that were next to a rack with dress shoes was a total shock. I’d never seen Preston in a suit. I couldn’t even imagine that level of hotness.
I shamelessly smelled one of his black uniform polos and practically moaned before hustling back into the bedroom.
Excitement I should not have been feeling when my six-year-old son was in the house made my nerves sing and my pussy ache for more of what I got a taste of last night.
Without thought, I sat on the very edge of his bed.
And it hit me.
He wanted me right here.
He wanted me to see how, if he were taking me in his bed, everything he did to me would be on full display. Anyone on the water, anyone in one of the ridiculously expensive mansions across the bay, his pool guy, his gardener, anyone would be able to see us.
Moisture surged, and unconsciously I crossed my legs.
“Son of a bitch,” I whispered just as he came up the stairs.
Carrying my son and both of our bags, Preston walked into the bedroom. His intense gaze, relentless and so, so dominant, cut to my legs, then came back up to my eyes.
He gave me a look.
A commanding, authoritative, fucking dominant look.
I could not believe I’d never noticed how very dominating Preston was. In my defense, my experiences with him over the past few years were limited to his own special brand of stalking. But as I sat there and ran through all those encounters in my head, I realized something.
Every single time, he’d looked at me like he was looking at me right now.
Possessively.
Dominantly.
Completely.
He was taking me in, inch by inch, just as had every other time, and my body was responding exactly as it always had. With want so intense I could taste it.
Setting Nash down, he placed my purse and my bag on the bench at the end of the bed and gave Nash his backpack. Then he signed to him. Go to your room and look in the top left drawer of the dresser. I will be there in a minute to help you.
Okay , Nash signed back excitedly before running off down the hall.
“His room?” I asked, my legs still crossed.
Closing the bedroom door behind him, his eyes on mine, he took two strides and stood directly in front of me. “Do you know why I told you to cross your legs?” Quiet and sexy as hell, his deep voice made my nerves sing.
Heat rushed across my body, and I licked my suddenly dry lips. “No.”
Graceful, predatory, he dropped to one knee. “Because I’m the only one who gets to open your legs.” His hand landed on my thigh.
“Preston, we can’t—”
His finger touched my lips. “I’m not going to take your clothes off.” He pushed my legs apart. “You’re going to do that yourself when you change into your bikini.” His hand ran up my leg. “But you’re not going to touch yourself.” He pressed at the apex of my thighs.
I’d never hated a pair of jeans more. “I don’t know who I’m angrier at right now, you or my jeans.”
He didn’t smile. He didn’t move his hand. He didn’t react.
He rubbed his thumb in a tight circle and watched me. Intently.
My hands fisted his comforter, wrinkling his perfectly made bed. “Keep doing that and I’m going to come.” It’d been too long since I’d had sex. Way too long. And every dominant move he made only made me hungrier.
“You’ll come when I tell you to come.” Leaning forward, he pressed a single kiss on my neck. “And that’s not going to be until we’re alone later.” Pushing back, he rose to his feet in one swift movement and held his hand out.
Oh. My fucking God .
Breathless, turned the hell on, my head spun. But I took his hand because at this point my body was going to do any damn thing he told it, verbally or otherwise.
Pulling me to my feet, he kissed my bare shoulder before his voice whispered across my skin. “Take your clothes off.” He kissed my neck. “Put your suit on.” He kissed my temple. “Meet us downstairs.” He kissed my forehead.
Before I could even draw in a breath, he strode to his closet. Disappearing around a corner, he returned in a blink with what looked like shorts in his hand and casually walked toward the door.
I barely found my voice. “I can’t change here.” Windows everywhere, there was no privacy, but more, I was testing him. I wanted to see what he’d say. “Anyone could see me.”
“I’m the only one who matters.” He strode out of the bedroom.
My hand went to my chest. “Holy fucking shit.”
The muffled sound of my cell ringing sounded out of place in the too-big bedroom.
Trying to pull my shit together, I fumbled through my purse and answered without looking at the display because I was staring down at the pool. “Hello?”
Pause.
I looked at the caller ID.
“Ty?”
“You sound weird. What’s wrong?” my brother asked.
Fuck, I couldn’t wear my bikini in front of Preston. “Nothing. What’s up?”
“What’s up?” he asked, incredulous. “Oh, I don’t fucking know. Jackass brings shit to your front door, a shootout occurs, the cops show and I have to handle business while you and my nephew sleep under Vos’s roof.”
I looked away from the pool and the view as reality came crashing back. “Preston said I could go back home. Is that true? Is everything handled?”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Of course it’s handled.”
“Then why are you so pissed?”
“Why the hell aren’t you?”
“Tyce,” I warned. “Don’t pull this shit on me. What the fuck is wrong with you? I heard you talking to him last night. I saw his face. I was fucking there. I thought you finally worked this shit out.”
“Fuck,” he grumbled. “Fine.”
“Fine what?” I demanded.
“We worked it out. Shit’s handled. Everything’s fucking good. You happy?”
I exhaled and dropped my voice. “Are you?”
Ty sighed, but then his tone came down a couple notches. “I didn’t call to fight with you, Merc. I was calling to check on you.”
My brother and I fought like cats and dogs, always had, but I loved him fiercely. “I’m good. Nash is good. We’re okay.”
“Good.”
We were both quiet a moment.
Ty broke the silence first. “So you still at his place?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, glancing back at the view.
“Need me to come get you? That warehouse is in a shit part of town.”
Damn it. “We’re not at his warehouse,” I confessed. “We’re, um, at his house.”
Ty’s tone changed in a nanosecond. “His house?” he asked, deadpan.
“Yeah.” Shit. “On Hibiscus Island.”
“Vos has a house. On Hibiscus Island.” No intonation, it wasn’t a question.
I answered anyway. “Yeah. Kind of a big one.”
“ Jesus fucking Christ , that secretive motherfucker.”
I couldn’t help it, I smiled. “That he is.”
“Shit. I don’t even want to know how he afforded that.”
I did.
“Tell me it’s a dump so I can have a good fucking day.”
I smirked. “It’s Miami Beach, and it’s on the water. It’s not a dump.”
“Christ, I hate him.”
I smiled. “No, you don’t.” And despite how it all went down last night, I was glad they’d gotten shit out between them. “He’s your friend.”
“Yeah, just don’t tell him that. Might go to his head.”
“He’s put up with you for over seven years, you should tell him that.”
Ty scoffed. “I’m not saying shit.”
I bit my lip. “Ty?” I had to warn him.
“What?”
“I like him.” I held my breath.
Surprising the hell out of me, Ty didn’t yell at me. In fact, his voice quieted. “I know, Merc.”
“Things are… changing between us, but I don’t know if I can trust him.”
“Fuck.” He sighed like he was put out. “The truth?”
“Always.” Good or bad.
“I don’t think there’s anyone you could trust more,” he said honestly. “He learned ASL to talk to Nash. What does that tell you?”
My brother had always loved me, and he’d looked out for me. No one had my back more than him. But hearing his words, they both surprised me and made my heart hurt. “What about you? You did the same.”
“I’d do anything for that kid, you know that.” Ty paused for a beat. “I was fucked-up after Sam died, Merc. I didn’t handle it right. I’m sorry. I wasted a lot of years… for both of us.”
Tears welled. “I love you, big brother.”
“Love you back, sis.”
“Is it really safe to go back to my house?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you have to… you know?”
“It’s safe,” he clipped. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied gruffly.
“I gotta go.” I smiled. “We’re going for a swim in his ridiculously fancy infinity-edged pool.”
“Christ.”
“Gotta run.” I started to hang up.
“Merc?”
“Yeah?”
“I said some shit. About him.”
“It’s okay. I know. He explained it.”
Ty paused. “Sam would be proud of you and Nash. He’d want you to be happy.”
My hand went to my heart and my eyes welled. “Thank you.”
“Yeah,” he replied gruffly. “No problem. Tell Nash I said hi. Catch you later.” He hung up.
“Love you, big brother,” I whispered as I watched Preston walk out of the living room slider doors with Nash’s hand in his.