Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Fury
I knock back the whiskey Axel hands me and wince. I’m starting to feel pain in my jaw, and my ribs still hurt from the previous fight. “You should be happy,” says Grizz. “He paid you for tonight even though you owe him.”
“He paid me because he wants me to owe him,” I snap. “I told him to keep my cut, but he wouldn’t.”
“Maybe he likes having you around,” says Axel with a grin.
“I can’t think why,” says Fletch, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I told her to walk away,” I mutter, fixing my eyes on Xanthe as she and Donnie move around the room together hand-in-hand. “And instead, she slept with him.”
Axel follows my glare. “The nurse?”
“Why would you tell her to walk away?” asks Fletch. He’s my closest brother seeing as we were in the Nottingham charter together for a time.
“That’s Xanthe,” I tell him, and his eyes widen in surprise.
“Fuck, brother. And she’s dating Donnie?” I nod. “I mean, she’s stunning. I can see why you’d be pissed.”
“Someone gonna fill me in?” asks Grizz.
“He had a thing with her when he was a teenager,” says Fletch.
“Ouch,” says Grizz, patting me on the back. “Axel and Fletch can both sympathise with you there.”
“I don’t advise you get in the middle of whatever she’s got going with Donnie,” warns Axel.
“He’s right,” agrees Grizz. “Sit back. He’ll soon get bored. He never stays with one woman for long.”
“Put your attention elsewhere,” adds Fletch. “You have a fan club right there.”
He nods towards where Xanthe’s friends are sitting, occasionally glancing my way. “Let’s go charm them,” adds Grizz, pushing me towards them.
“Ladies,” I greet, “can I get you a drink?”
One of the women points to the bottle of Champagne on the table. “Donnie sorted it,” she says.
“Of course, he did,” I mutter.
“I’m Grizz,” he says, holding out a hand and shaking each of theirs.
“I’m Julianna. I work with Xanthe. And this is Jorja, her best friend.”
I sit beside Jorja. Grizz makes an excuse about needing to speak to Axel and rushes off, leaving us alone. “So,” says Jorja, “you love my bestie.”
I frown. “I don’t even know her.”
“Bullshit, I can tell by your face. You haven’t stopped searching the room for her.”
“I’m worried about her,” I admit. “Donnie Nelson is bad news.”
They both lean closer. “In what way?” asks Julianna.
“In every possible bad way you can think of,” I reply. “He’s not the sort of man she should be with.”
“Is that coming from a jealous ex or a concerned friend?” asks Jorja.
“Both,” I admit.
They exchange a worried look. “Okay, we’ll talk to her,” says Julianna. “Give Jorja your number, and she’ll let you know what she says.”
Jorja hands me her mobile, and I input my number right as Xanthe joins us. She arches a brow as she slides in beside Julianna. “Having a good night?” she asks.
“Great,” Jorja replies. “You?”
“I’ve had better,” she mutters as I hand the mobile back. “We should head home. We have a shift tomorrow,” she says to Julianna.
“You need me to drive?” I ask as they stand.
“Chevy is taking us,” she says coldly before wandering off.
“I’ll call,” whispers Jorja, rushing after her.
I get home two hours later to find Jennie in my bed sleeping. I groan, turning and heading right back out.
I pull out my mobile and see a message from Xanthe left over an hour ago.
Xanthe: I need to see you.
Me: Are you still awake?
Xanthe: Yes.
Me: On my way.
I arrive within five minutes but park my bike a street away, just in case Donnie happens to drive past.
I raise my fist to knock right as she yanks the door open. She heads into the kitchen, leaving me to follow.
She sits at the table, pulling her dressing gown tightly around herself. “Sit,” she mutters, pointing to the chair opposite hers. I lower into it, and she fixes me with a glare. “You told my friends to have a chat with me,” she accuses.
“That’s not what I said,” I argue, shifting uncomfortably. “I told them he was bad news, which he is.”
“I’m a grown woman, Fury. I can do what I like.” She sighs heavily. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about that. I want to know what happened when we were kids.”
I groan. “What’s the point?”
“Tell me everything.”
“Why? It’ll only hurt you more, and you’ll feel betrayed.”
“By you or my parents?” she asks.
“Your parents,” I mutter.
“I need to know, Fury, because I’ve spent years ignoring the twist in my heart whenever I think about you, which is actually way more than I’d like it to be.”
I try not to smile at her confession. “Your dad caught me in your bed,” I tell her, and her eyes widen. “He gently tapped me on the shoulder to wake me, and I’ll never forget the disappointed look in his eyes as he pointed to the door. I crept from your bed, leaving you to sleep blissfully unaware, and I went downstairs, where he and your mum were waiting for me. Turns out they’d suspected for days, and your mum had heard us that night.” I notice her cheeks burn red with embarrassment. “They gave me the talk about how you were going places,” I say, running my finger over the scratch on her oak table. “And that by dating me, those chances would be ruined. I tried to tell them . . . I tried to fight for us,” I explain, offering a small smile, “but they weren’t interested. They said we couldn’t be in love, that we were too young to know what that was.”
“I had no idea,” she mutters. “I was trying to remember back to that day. I woke, and they were acting so normal.”
“They’d already called the social worker and said if I left quietly, they wouldn’t pursue charges of underage sex and grooming.”
“Grooming?” she repeats, looking horrified.
“I was two years older, Xanth. We started having sex when you were fifteen. They found your diary.”
“Oh shit,” she hisses. “I’d kept track of every sexual encounter in there.” She buries her face in her hands.
“They had evidence. And let’s face it, a foster kid having sex with the foster carer’s daughter, a judge would’ve slapped a charge on me, no questions.”
She slides her face up, keeping her hands over her mouth. “I am so sorry,” she mutters.
“It was easier to just leave.”
“You could’ve written to me,” she says.
“How? What if your parents intercepted the letters? They would’ve had me arrested, Xanth. I gratefully took the clean slate, but the terms were that I stay clear of you.”
“I was so heartbroken,” she admits, tears making her eyes glisten. “They just told me you’d been moved to another home where a couple were looking to adopt. I forced myself to be happy for you because you needed a good family, but deep down, I was in bits.”
I take a breath, thankful we’re finally having this conversation because fuck knows I need to get it off my chest. “I was angry,” I admit. “For letting you talk me into it. I’d been happy with your parents, and I hated that I’d been sent away, rejected again. I spent years being angry at you.” The words tumble out, even though I don’t mean them to.
Her expression fills with guilt, making me feel bad, but it’s the truth, and she needs to know it all. “I don’t blame you,” she mutters. “I’m so sorry.”
I stand and round the table, crouching in front of her. I take her hands and stare as our fingers entwine. “It wasn’t your fault. It was just easier to blame you. Truth is, even if you hadn’t convinced me, we would’ve ended up together. I loved you so much.”
Xanthe cups my face in her hands. “I loved you too,” she tells me with a watery smile.
We stare at one another for a few seconds. I sense she’s about to kiss me, and deep down, I know I should stop her, but my body refuses to move. I feel the warmth of her breath across my face, and then she gently presses her lips to mine. It’s wary and cautious. My mind takes me back to how things were, and suddenly, we’re right back in her room, sneaking around.
I stand, taking her with me and sliding my hands into her hair, gripping it at the base and losing myself in the kiss. My cock is pushing against her stomach, and she lifts herself onto the table, sliding back while pulling my belt open. She reaches into my jeans, her hand gripping my erection, freeing it from my boxers. I loosen the cord on her dressing gown and push it from her shoulders, gliding my hands down her naked body.
I step back slightly, taking in her perfect curves. We lock eyes, both panting for breath, and then I close the gap again, trailing kisses along her jaw while she clings to my shoulders. I pepper them along her collar bone and down her chest, stopping at her pebbled nipple. Fuck, she’s as perfect as I remember. I circle it with my tongue, enjoying the sound as she inhales sharply.
“Condom?” she pants.
I feel for my wallet, retrieving a condom, and she takes it from me, ripping it open with her teeth. She takes it from the packet, discarding the foil and pinching the end of the rubber before expertly pushing it onto my cock. I hiss at the contact as she sheaths me, itching to slow it down so I can savour every second but also desperate to be inside of her.
“You sure about this?” I ask, trailing more kisses along her collar bone. She wraps her legs around me and tugs me closer, pressing my erection against her opening. It’s all the confirmation I need, sliding into her and groaning in pleasure as she grips my cock tightly.
Her arms wrap around my neck, and she pulls me in for another kiss as I slowly fuck her, taking my time to feel every inch of her. Fuck knows I’ve thought about it for long enough .
She was my first, and at sixteen years old, I couldn’t get enough of her. She was wild and horny all the time, and we’d spend hours exploring each other. Those memories are burned into my brain.
I feel her hand between us, rubbing herself, but I bat it away and take over, pressing my thumb to her swollen clit with just enough pressure to have her on the edge. She squirms beneath me, whimpering each time I slow down. I pull from her, and she groans in frustration, but as I kiss down her body and rest between her legs, she props herself up on her elbows, watching as I run my tongue through her folds. She bites on her lower lip in that sexy way I love, her eyes full of heat. Her fingers run through my hair, gently gripping it as I work her into a frenzy. And right before she’s about to come, I stand and slam back into her, fucking her hard.
She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders as I chase my own release. I feel the wetness between us as she squirts, and it’s enough to drag my orgasm from me, causing me to shudder uncontrollably as I empty into the condom. “Fuck,” I pant, closing my eyes as I try to slow my rapid breaths.
I pull from her and grab a tea towel from beside us, wiping her arousal from the worktop and then pressing it between her legs. She lies lifeless, her hands above her head in all her naked glory for me to appreciate.
I press gentle kisses along her inner thigh, occasionally nipping the skin. “That was . . . unexpected.”
Xanthe
Shit. Shit. Shit. I push to sit up, and Fury’s hopeful face stares back at me. I slip off the counter, and he stands, trapping me between him and the worktop. He slides a hand along my jaw, tipping my head back slightly to make eye contact. “Are you okay?”
I nod, forcing a smile. “I need the bathroom.”
“Xanth,” he whispers, his expression full of concern.
“I’m fine,” I say a little too sharply as I move past him, slipping my mobile from the counter discreetly. “Honestly.”
The second I get into the bathroom, I turn the tap on full and groan out loud. “Fuck.” I take a deep breath, and then I call Jorja, my go-to whenever I fuck up.
“Huh?” she answers, sounding sleepy.
“It’s me,” I whisper.
“Are you in the shower?”
“No, listen, I fucked up.”
“Again?” I hear rustling like she’s sitting up. “Jesus, what time is it?”
“I slept with the fighter.”
“Oh, you lucky bitch.”
“Jorja, I slept with him after sleeping with Donnie a few nights ago. I’m literally a whore.”
“A single whore,” she says on a yawn.
“I don’t think Donnie will see it like that.”
She sighs heavily. “Look, have you actually said the words out loud to either of them? Have any of you established any kind of relationship?”
“No, but I’m the kind of girl who expects a man to be one hundred percent faithful once I’ve had sex with him. I’m a hypocrite.”
“If no one said the words, you’re all good.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “What do I do now?”
“Enjoy the rest of the night with the fighter.”
“I can’t do that, Jorja,” I say, groaning.
“Why the hell not? If you’re gonna waste a perfectly good man, send him my way.”
“Can we just be serious for one minute?” I snap.
“Which one do you like the most?”
“We’re not in primary school,” I argue.
“It all comes down to who you like the most, Xanth. Pros and cons to eliminate the loser.”
“It’s not as simple as that. I have a history with Reese. Unfinished business.”
“And Donnie?”
“He’s a gentleman. Kind. He paid for our entire night and insisted I invite you guys to join us.”
“He is rich,” she adds. “What’s the fighter’s bank balance like?”
“I have no idea,” I snap, “and it’s not about money.”
“Okay, who was the best in bed?”
I groan louder. “I’m disconnecting now,” I singsong, ending the call.
I brace my hands against the sink and stare at myself in the mirror. “Get it together, you slag,” I whisper. “You’ve done it now. It’s how you handle it from here.”
I go to my room and pull on a set of pyjamas before heading back downstairs where Donnie is standing by the worktop. I stare wide-eyed, glancing around for a sign that Fury is still here. He smiles wide. “I called up to you, but it sounded like the shower was running.”
The lump in my throat threatens to choke me as I try to form a sentence. “How did you . . . erm, how did you get in?”
“The front door,” he says, smirking. “Like I said, I called up to you, but you didn’t hear me. You should have that locked at all times, baby. Who knows who’ll walk in.”
“Right,” I mutter, nodding. “Drink?” He nods.
I spot the two glasses on the worktop and immediately throw a tea towel over them, realising it’s the towel Fury used to clean up the mess we made. I glance back to where Donnie is sitting, his arms resting on the worktop I haven’t yet cleaned properly. I wince, feeling mortified.
I grab two new glasses and pour whiskey into both, knocking mine back in one and topping up again.
I hand Donnie his glass, and his free hand glides around my waist. He tugs me to stand between him and the counter, just like Fury did moments ago. “Thank you for coming tonight. I loved having you there.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” I squeak, knocking the second drink back.
He places his whiskey down and runs his hands over my shoulders. “I missed having you to myself.” He nuzzles into my neck, and I feel his erection pressing against me.
“Donnie, listen,” I mutter. His kisses continue down my neck, and his hands now grip my backside, pulling me against him. “Please,” I whisper, pressing my hands to his chest and applying a gentle amount of pressure to make him stop.
“Baby, all I’ve thought about all evening is you in that dress and . . .” He catches my mouth, kissing me.
I’m almost lost to him when an image of Fury enters my head, and I slam my hands against him and push him to step back. “Stop,” I snap.
He stares wide-eyed. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk.”
“You look serious,” he notes, his smile fading.
“I feel like we’re moving a bit fast,” I begin, shifting uncomfortably.
“Too fast?”
I nod. “Yeah, you can’t just turn up here, Donnie.”
“You’re upset because I let myself in?”
“You took me by surprise.”
His eyes narrow. “Wait, do you have another man here?”
I shake my head, my eyes widening in panic. “No. No. Of course not.”
His eyes are blazing with what I think is anger . . . or jealousy. He takes off before my mind can catch up, heading for the living room. I race after him. My heart leaps into my throat because I have no idea where Fury is or if he’s still in the house. I try to grab Donnie’s arm, and he shrugs me off, causing me to stumble back. “I’ll fucking kill him,” he bellows.
“Donnie, stop,” I cry as he scans the living room before taking the stairs two at a time. I run after him. “Donnie, this is crazy.”
He slams each door back against the wall with force as he checks the rooms. When he gets to my room, he pauses, holding on to the door handle. “Last chance,” he warns me. “Tell me who he is.”
“There’s no one,” I yell, hardly believing the way he’s reacting right now.
He grabs my upper arm as he shoves the door open. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s empty. Donnie pulls me into the room, glancing around like a maniac. “Was someone here?” he growls.
“No,” I whisper. I don’t like the look in his eyes as he pierces me, trying to work out if I’m lying. “You’re hurting me,” I add, and his eyes fall to where he’s gripping me hard. He releases me instantly, like he’s only just realised, and takes a step back.
“Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry,” he says desperately. “I’m so sorry.”
“You should go,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around myself. I feel sick from the adrenaline currently coursing through my body. I’m not cut out for this type of confrontation.
He suddenly places his hands on my upper arms, and I flinch. There’s remorse in his expression as he gently runs them up and down my arms. “Baby, I am so sorry. I just . . .” He turns his back and runs his hands through his hair. “I send myself crazy with jealousy.” He turns back to me, and I think I see the glistening of tears in his eyes. “I really like you, Xanthe. The thought of you with another man sends me nuts.”
“We’re not together,” I say firmly, and that dangerous glint returns to his eyes, but he shuts it down fast. “We never said we were exclusive. You don’t own me.”
“I know,” he says, holding up his hands in an appeasing manner. “I’m out of order and totally jumping the gun. But I like you, what can I say?” He shrugs helplessly.
“I won’t be with someone who lays a hand on me.”
“Baby, I’d never hurt you.”
“You just did,” I snap. “Please go.” I’m aware that I’m alone in my bedroom with a man who has the potential to lose his shit again, so I soften my features and add, “We’ll talk tomorrow when we’ve both slept on it.”
“I can’t leave you like this,” he says, shrugging from his jacket.
My heart slams faster in my chest. “I want to be alone.”
“I won’t lay a finger on you, I swear,” he promises, kicking his shoes off. “Let’s sleep on it, and tomorrow, we can forget it ever happened.”
“I don’t want to forget it,” I say, frowning. “Please just go.”
“You’re angry, I get it, but we can’t sort shit out if I’m not here with you.” He continues to undress, and I fight back my tears. “Baby, we’ve had our first argument. It’s normal. Don’t look so sad.”
“I’d like to be on my own,” I repeat.
He shakes his head, a big smile on his face. “I can’t allow it, Xanth. My mother always said you should never leave on an argument. Now, put this on.” He holds out his shirt for me.
“I’m fine in my pyjamas,” I mutter.
“Xanth,” he says, that smile still slapped on his face but with a dangerous glint, “put it on.”
I feel tears building, and I try to swallow them down. “I’ll sleep in the spare room tonight,” I mutter, backing towards the door.
He grins, slamming his hand against it so I can’t open it. I jump with fright. “Nuh-uh. We sleep in the same bed until this is sorted.”
I inhale sharply, desperately trying to stay calm. “I need space.”
“You need to be with me, so we can talk when you’re ready.” He moves closer, gently kissing me on the forehead. He’s not being threatening, yet I feel terrified just by his demeanour. He unbuttons my pyjama top, slipping it from me and replacing it with his shirt. “Shorts too,” he whispers against my cheek. Tears leak from my eyes as I push my shorts down, too scared to deny him. “Good girl.” His praise only sickens me further.
He leads me to the bed, pulling back the covers and patting the mattress. I climb in, a million thoughts racing through my head as he rounds the bed and climbs in the other side in just his boxers. He tugs me into his side, holding me against him while calmly stroking my hair. I swipe a stray tear from my cheek. “Don’t get upset,” he whispers. “It was just an argument.” The fact he’s playing down what just happened screams red flag .
Fuck. I should have listened to Fury.