Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FRANCESCA
I spend the morning worrying about the upcoming lunchbreak and what new horrors might be in store with Kincaid. A waste, because when the midday bell rings, he’s not even in the cafeteria.
Rather than relaxing, I switch to worrying about the appointment later today, to remove the freezer. The one I need to vacate the house for.
My car already has a few textbooks in the back seat. I plan to spend the evening at the central library before driving to a hilltop park where there’s unlikely to be any circulating patrol cars to move me along.
A fizzing sensation builds inside me, and it takes time to recognised it as hope. An emotion that’s been sorely missed.
The winter sun is already setting when I arrive home at four-thirty, wanting to shower and change. The appointment isn’t until six—there’s plenty of time—but my stomach is queasy like I’m running late.
An instant after I walk through the door, I know something is wrong.
I stand completely still, my hand resting on the handle, ready to reverse direction and flee. The house is neater than when I left this morning. Vacuum scuffs are on the rug. The air has a floral scent, warmer than normal.
“Mum?”
A splash comes from the bathroom, and my heart flutters.
“Mum!”
I slam the door shut and run to the bathroom, head spinning with the thousand things I want to say to her, arms aching for one of her tight bear hugs. The hollowness in my centre fills with anticipation. “I’m so—”
My words falter to a stop before my brain fully registers what’s in front of me.
A naked man is in the bath, most of his body obscured by bubbles.
I retreat a step. My cheeks burn with embarrassment for walking in on a stranger when they’re undressed. I must have come into the wrong house.
Logic overrides the instinctual answer. This is the right house. It’s my house. And the moment I clear that mental hurdle, another clicks into place.
It’s not a stranger. It’s someone far more dangerous.
What is Kincaid doing in my bathtub?
I step back into the bathroom and his amused smirk has my fists clenching.
“Don’t bother running.” He blows soapy bubbles off his fingers. “I already know all your secrets.”
My knees weaken and I grab the doorhandle for support. A glance along the hallway shows me the connecting door to the garage is still shut. “What s-secrets?”
“Close the door,” he says, ignoring my question. “Come join me in here.” He lifts his eyebrows, smiling broadly. “You didn’t really think you could threaten my cousin, then go about your business like nothing happened, did you?”
“No.” I drop my head, relieved that’s the secret he means, but he couldn’t have worse timing. “But we can talk about it at school tomorrow. You still need to leave.”
He raises another cupped handful of suds, blowing them towards me. “But I only just got comfortable.”
My chest pulls tight.
Yes, I gave Ezra an ultimatum, but this is like walking in midway through a movie. I have no idea of the plot or what should happen next.
“Get out of my bath and out of my house!”
He gives a dramatic sigh. “Fine. If that’s what you really want.”
“Yes,” I reply and would say more if he didn’t choose that moment to stand.
The water sluices off the firm muscles of his long body, leaving a pattern of dark hairs plastered to his skin. My eyes follow them down his chest, past his belly button to where they spread wide and thicken at the root of his enormous cock.
Spit pools on my tongue like he’s cramming it into my mouth again, bumping against my throat, triggering a rush of remembered sensations.
The gigantic appendage snakes halfway down the bulging muscles of his thigh and when he tugs it free of bubbles, the long length fattens at his touch. I drag my eyes away and mistakenly lock onto his gaze.
Kincaid raises an eyebrow and the skin between my shoulder blades tingles.
When I retreat another step, my back hits the door at the wrong angle and it starts to swing closed. In a panic, I grab for the handle, bumping the back of my fingers with enough force that I wince… but it’s still not enough for me to break eye contact.
“Are you going to offer me a towel when you’ve finished gawping?”
I grab one from the drying rail and thrust it at him before forcing my eyes down to the floor.
It would have been better if they’d gone there first because the sight of his wet, naked, six-foot-four body is now burned into my retinas for all eternity. A fact that doesn’t stop me sneaking another glance, this time at the curves of his magnificent arse.
“No need to blush,” he drawls in his gravelly voice. “I don’t mind you looking.”
The words catapult me into the hallway, and I slam the bathroom door behind me, breaking the spell. In the kitchen, I rest my hands on the counter and stare into space for a few seconds, then frown, scanning the bench.
My mail is gone. A quick hunt confirms the overdue bills aren’t in the rubbish or recycling bin and my neck prickles at the thought he’s read their contents and knows exactly how poor I am.
When I check the cupboards, they’re full of food that isn’t mine, likewise the fridge, which also contains a bottle of champagne chilling next to a near-empty carton of milk.
My grip on reality loosens again. What the fuck is going on?
“Take your wine and go,” I order the moment he walks into the room, towelling his thick hair dry.
He smirks. “If you keep stomping on all my romantic gestures, this date is going to get awkward fast.”
Romantic? Try psychotic.
“What date?”
Kincaid nods at the stove. “A fancy meal seemed a good bet. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a selection. Once you’re ready to eat, it’ll take twenty minutes to warm.”
I open it, seeing ready meals from an expensive restaurant in town stacked inside. Far too much for two people. The smell is heavenly and my stomach rumbles, making him chuckle. “That’s a better reception.”
Each discovery winds my nerves tighter.
An internal clock ticks down the seconds until the appointment, until the house absolutely needs to be empty, and I have no idea how to make him leave.
I slam the oven door and turn back to him with my arms crossed. “You have to go.”
He folds the towel, stacking it on the counter, palm flat on top. The bulk of his body easily fills the exit. “That’s not going to happen. Not until I’m ready.”
I can’t meet his gaze. I can’t look at his body, even though he’s now dressed—if you call the sweatpants swinging low on his hips, dressed.
Kincaid relaxes until his hip bumps the counter and he sweeps a hand through his wet hair. A faint frown lines his forehead. He leans towards me, and I freeze in place, muscles refusing to move. Skin so hot I can hear it crackle.
My gaze fills with his hard brow and wide nostrils. His lips soft as they brush against mine, the world in such sharp focus it hurts.
His tongue flicks over my bottom lip, teasing, tender, then sucks it into his mouth, grazing his teeth across the nerve laden skin. My hands are on his chest, finding a resting place along the curve of his ribcage, my fingers stretching wide.
Without meaning to, my body arches into his, my curves melting against his hard muscles.
“You drive me crazy, Freckles.” His warm voice buzzes in my ear. “It’s like I’m under a spell.”
His lips move to my throat, taking tiny nips at the sensitive skin, sucking away the sting. Bruising it. Marking me.
Six o’clock is coming. He needs to leave!
I twist away and pull out the phone he gave me, anxious enough to bluff.
There’s no way in hell I want a cop anywhere near this place, but keep my voice steady when I say, “I’m calling the police.”
“Always so quick to threaten the police, aren’t you, Francesca? But do you really think that’s a good idea?”
Dots flash in my vision. My palms sweat until the phone is in danger of sliding right out of them.
“Yes, it’s a good idea,” I hedge. “You can’t break into people’s houses.”
“Your security is so lax, it’s more like I walked in.” He rests one palm on the counter, leaning forward to tuck a few loose strands behind my ear, giving my earlobe a gentle tug. “The same way you walked into the boys’ changing rooms last week.”
“Well, unlike you, I don’t want my dick sucked.” I sweep my hand towards the front door. “You’re welcome to go.”
His smirk grows wider, eyes alight with laughter.
“Are you sure you don’t want something sucked?” His voice is low, rumbling like a freight train as he bends to my eye level. “Would you prefer some licking?”
The suggestive reply sends a dizzying rush of blood to my head. He pops up his middle finger and slowly lowers his mouth over it, cheeks dimpling inwards as he sucks in a steady rhythm.
My lips pulse to the same beat, but I grit my teeth. “I don’t want anything from you.”
Like it thrives on denial, the gargantuan bulge in his sweatpants grows, straining the fabric. My throat turns dry, and I whip my gaze away.
“I told you it’s okay to look.” He shuffles another step closer until his erection bumps against my hip. His voice drops lower, thickening into gruffness. “I like the way you look at me.”
My fingers tighten around the phone. “Stay away or I’ll phone the police, I swear!”
“And tell them what?” He leans forward and I want to back away, but I’m already trapped against the counter. “That I gave you money? That I paid well above the going rate for your inexperienced services?”
“I’ll tell them you forced me to—”
“Forced.” He laughs, the sound low enough to be menacing. “Oh, please.” Thick fingers grip my chin, tilting my head back until I can’t escape his gaze. “Do you forget I gave you a choice? You chose to open that pretty mouth of yours.”
“Because you threatened to have me expelled or thrown to Alice and her mob, otherwise. That’s not true consent.” I inject firmness into my voice, echoing an old teacher. “Unless it’s an enthusiastic yes, it’s a no.”
“Wow,” he scoffs, releasing my chin to cup my shoulder instead. His other arm slips around my waist, pulling me against his torso, his cock bulging against my hip. “That year nine health class really stuck, didn’t it?”
When he lifts his hands away, my body is overloaded with so many crossed signals, the loss of touch leaves me reeling.
“But that’s fair,” he continues. “We can’t have you threatening to call the police every five minutes. That behaviour isn’t tolerated in my family. So, if I have to wait for your enthusiastic consent before we do anything further, I’m on board with that.”
The words are a balm to the worst of my fears, and I sag in relief.
That’s when he lunges.
One hand twists in my blouse. The other clutches my arm like a steel band.
“No,” I cry, phone dropping to the carpet as I fight to get free. “Let me—”
Panic steals my protest. My feet leave the ground as he drags me back to the bathroom.
Bubbles and water still fill the tub.
Adrenaline explodes in my blood stream, fuelled by my racing heart. I’m on my knees and push back against him, clawing at his fingers. My legs skid across the linoleum tiles, unable to brace for leverage.
Kincaid fists my hair, stares at me with empty eyes, and dunks my head into the bath.