16. Cain
The azure pool sparkles in the morning sun and in the middle, Erica lounges on a rainbow-colored tube float with her eyes closed.
I hang the towel I got for her over my shoulder, pausing inside the patio doors.
A smile tugs on my lips as I pluck a cigarette from the packet in my jeans and light it.
Hanging out in the garden after breakfast is a habit she picked up over the weeks she’s been with me.
She likes to swim a few laps, followed by lazing in the water.
It started when the housekeeper came the first time.
With the forged medical documents to blackmail Erica, I’m not worried she’d squeal.
I assume she didn’t want to make any awkward excuses regarding our unusual situation .
The water helps her muscles to loosen, too.
She needs it.
I’m hard on her, fucking her daily until she’s an exhausted mess in my arms.
Tiring her out is the only way I can get her to cuddle with me or sleep on my chest.
Any other time she argues my ear off.
She looks much healthier, too.
Rosy cheeks, a bronze tan.
A spark lights up her eyes, and it’s brightest when she makes a sarcastic remark or chucks insults at me.
I don’t mind.
I enjoy our verbal sparring, and she’s posturing, anyway.
All her arguing is an attempt to stave off the inevitable: falling madly in love with me.
How do I know she’ll fall for me?
Simply because I won’t stop fucking her and caring for her until she does.
I stride out onto the terrace, stopping by the side of the pool.
“Get outta the water, darlin’.”
Erica frowns, keeping her eyes closed.
“Go away, curly.”
I take a deep breath of smoke and let it out in a laugh.
She hopes it’ll annoy me when she calls me curly, but I think it’s sweet.
Nobody has ever given me a pet name.
Nobody dared to.
Who has the guts to call serious Dr.
Cain Morrow a cutesy ass name?
My future wife does.
“You gotta wash off the chlorine in the shower before you get dressed, Erica. Do your makeup and hair if you want, you’re beautiful to me either way. But I expect your company tonight.”
She rolls off the float with a splash and dives.
Her blurry form swims to the edge, and she resurfaces by the metal ladder, slicking her hair back.
My cock thickens as she climbs out.
Water runs like liquid pearls over her curves, but the best parts are hidden by a black bikini with skulls on it.
I ordered it online for her.
To be on the safe side, I got a whole selection of colors and cuts, but this is the one she always wears.
It’s my favorite, too.
I steal a glance at my initials on the inside of her thigh, two simple letters written in raised, pink scars.
The shallow cuts healed fast under my professional care, and my jeans always get too tight around my crotch when I see my claim etched into her flesh.
I whistle and throw the towel at Erica.
She catches it with a sneer but not a single word of gratitude.
Typical.
She dries herself and wraps it around her body, tucking it in at her chest.
“You want me to get done up so you can make me a mess again?” she asks, crossing her arms, but despite her best attempt at seeming pissed off, pink scrawls over her cheeks.
“Don’t act coy, darlin’. You love when I turn you into a mess. Lipstick smeared and mascara running, wild hair. Oh, my pretty, slutty mess.”
Her nose wrinkles.
“You’re gross.”
My shoulders lift in a shrug.
She doesn’t mean that.
“We’re going out tonight, little dove,” I explain.
Her head tilts like she’s shaking water out of her ears.
“Come again?”
“Surely you don’t wanna spend the rest of your life in this house and on this property, never going anywhere?”
She runs a hand along the side of her neck.
“I mean—”
“If that’s what you want, I’ll lock you up for good.” I throw away my cigarette and grab her wrist, pulling her in.
“No! I don’t want to stay here all the time but…” She chews on her lip.
“Aren’t you worried I’m going to run away?”
“If you wanted to run, you would’ve tried it already.”
She huffs, and I can’t tell if she’s irritated with me or with herself for getting this comfortable this quickly.
Little does she know I have safeguards in place if she attempts to escape for real.
I haven’t completely disregarded the possibility she might snap and give it an earnest shot.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” I tuck a strand of wet hair behind her ear, and the blush on her cheeks darkens.
“It’s alright if you enjoy being here. This is a nice house, a peaceful home far away from your worries.”
“Peaceful my ass,” she spits.
“Only if you weren’t here.”
“If you say so,” I respond impassively and embrace her.
She only resists slightly.
“Besides, I wanted you to have some time to get used to me and your new life before we start going out on dates.”
Her eyes grow round like saucers.
“D-dates?”
“You’re my girlfriend. Of course I’m gonna take you on dates, darlin’. I don’t wanna hide you like you’re some dirty little secret. I want the whole world to see what a lucky bastard I am to call you mine.”
Her jaw drops and I bite back a smirk.
She only does that when she really, really likes what I say and fights a fierce internal battle to not admit it to herself, or worse, to me.
The struggle is plain in her slitting eyes.
Erica clears her throat.
“I guess I’ll get ready then.” She squirms out of my arms and I miss her the moment she pulls away.
Her bare feet leave wet prints on the tiles as she walks to the door.
One leg inside, she turns to me.
“Oh, where are we going?”
I smile.
“That’s a surprise, little dove. I promise it’ll be worth it. All you have to know is this: it’s gonna be a long night of fun.”
I wait for Erica in the living room.
First, I answer some work emails on my phone.
Even being retired from active practice and outsourcing most of the clinics’ day-to-day operations, I gotta put in a few hours now and then.
After work, I dress in the outfit I prepared and left in the downstairs guest room.
My favorite black jeans and boots, a light grey button up shirt, and a slate denim jacket over it.
I add one of my dad’s bolo ties, braided black leather with a decorative silver clasp, and a belt with a buckle to match.
Topping off the look with my usual black hat, I drop onto one of the armchairs in the living room and turn on the TV above the fireplace.
A cooking show is on.
I love to cook, but since Mandy got healthy and moved to Los Angeles, I’ve rarely made the effort.
No point in preparing a fancy meal when I have nobody to share it with.
For me, food ain’t just about eating tasty things.
It’s about connection and showing that you care about the people at your table.
Now, with Erica living here, things are different.
I have somebody to cook for again.
I smirk as I remember her devouring the wagyu on the first evening—and every other meal I have prepared for her since then, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
My little dove enjoys my cooking.
That’s enough motivation to brush up on my skills and think of a few new recipes to try, but focusing on the TV is impossible.
I can’t stop thinking about my darlin’ naked upstairs.
If I had my way, I’d go up there and fuck her at least twice, but I know from my sister that most women like some undisturbed me-time while getting ready.
Mandy once threw a shoe at me when I interrupted her while she was doing her eyeliner.
When Erica’s boots thud on the stairs, my head whips around.
I forget to breathe.
Her long legs look even longer in skin-tight leopard print leggings.
I lick my lips as I admire the sliver of skin showing beneath a cropped, jet-black velvet top.
A studded belt slants across her hips, a bracelet with silver spikes decorates her wrist.
She wears multiple layers of necklaces crowned by a leather choker with an O-ring to hide the bruises I left on her neck.
Her mischievously glimmering eyes are rimmed with smudgy black eyeliner and her red lips pull into a cocky smirk.
My face turns hot as fire and my cock rises for a standing ovation.
Thank fuck my self-control keeps those animal instincts in check.
My dick has entirely other plans than a date, but I genuinely want her to have a good time tonight.
There will be plenty of opportunities to make her scream my name when we get home.
“Really? I spent all this time getting dolled up and you’re not going to say anything? Nothing at all?” she asks, raising both hands, nails coated in a fresh layer of black polish.
I tip my hat at her, letting out a strained laugh.
“Shit, darlin’, I can’t even think straight with you looking like this. I’m trying my best to stop myself from ravishing you on the spot.” I get up, adjusting my temperamental cock while I walk over to her.
Wrapping an arm around her middle, I press my hips into her.
“Can you feel what you do to me? A single glance at you was enough to get me rock hard and throbbing. You’re so beautiful, you make me crazy.”
She flushes.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, suddenly getting shy.
It’s so cute, I can’t stop myself.
I lift my hat to kiss the shell of her ear, making her shudder as I nibble along her jaw and blow a breath across her throat.
“If we don’t get in the car this instant, we’re not going anywhere tonight,” I warn.
She pulls away, eyes dragging from the tips of my boots to my face.
“You don’t look half bad yourself, cowboy,” she teases.
“But you promised me a date, and now I want that damn date!”
“See, I figured you’d say that and I’m not a liar.” I grin as I step back, and a hint of disappointment flashes in her gaze.
Taking my truck keys from my pocket, I grab her chin with the other hand.
“But don’t you fret. By the end of tonight, I’ll rip off that pretty outfit and stuff you with my cock.”