My Rose

29. Rose

Chapter 29

Rose

“Anger is a brief madness.” ― Horace

“ S houldn’t I be using gloves?” I asked as Briggs sat beside me on the bench, holding a roll of black fabric that brought me right back to that table. “Is that…” I cleared my throat and sat up taller. “Is that like what you used on me in your pool room?”

“Not quite.” The edge of his lips curved up in that sexy-as-hell smirk of his. “These straps protect you from hurting your bones and joints. The straps I wrapped around your ankles weren’t aimed at protecting anything.” Heat flooded my face, but thankfully, he was too focused on unrolling the wrap to notice. “Give me your hands.”

“Both?”

“Yes, Rose. Both.”

I bit my lip as I turned on the bench to face him, holding out both hands and pushing my wrists together. “I’m not tying your wrists together this time, beautiful.” His tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he stared at mine. “But I’d really fucking like to soon.” His fingers trailed down my forearms as I separated them, sending more heat through me before he took up one of my hands, wrapped it, and then moved on to the other, his focus unwavering from the job he put himself up to.

“Wiggle your fingers for me. Is it comfortable?”

My throat turned dry. “Yes—” I croaked out, stopping myself before adding sir to that statement. “Aren’t you going to wrap your hands, too?”

“No.” He moved abruptly from the bench, grabbing something that looked like a flat, circular pillow a few feet away. Between the wraps and the pillow, I was starting to see where the imagination during that day had come from. “I’m going to show you how to position your body first. Then I’ll let you practice on this.” He smacked the pillow with his open palm, making me jump from where my thoughts had gone. “Try not to let your thoughts wander too far from the lesson, okay, beautiful?”

I scowled. “I thought you said I’d be practicing on you? ”

He tossed the pillow just under the bag and held out his hand. “I’ll be holding it the whole time, but if you want me to drop it so you can take out that little ball of rage you harbor on me, then I’ll do it.”

“I’m not that angry of a person. You’re just really good at making me mad.”

He smiled, then tried to cover it by rubbing the new stubble along his cheek. Rugged Briggs was just as hot if not more than the all-business and no-play version. “Keep that anger going, baby. I don’t mind it one bit.” His fingers wriggled before me. “Ready?”

“Absolutely.” I took his hand and let him guide me up, scanning the gym. “How long have you been doing this? Is this place yours?” There were dozens of machines, but the interior wasn’t anything grand. It was clean, orderly, and full of black and grey. Not a single motivational gym message in sight or a pop of obnoxious color to draw your attention away from the work you came to do. All business, no play. “Don’t answer the second one—it’s definitely yours.”

Pinning his bottom lip with his teeth, he assessed me, looking on the verge of laughter but holding himself back. Yet another sexy stance. “I’ve been doing this since I was about twelve.” He cupped my shoulders from behind and guided me to a space free of equipment, then bent down and started positioning and angling my feet. I stumbled a bit, having never played a sport in my life, much less seen boxing happen in person. “And I don’t know if I should be offended by that second remark or not, but yes, it’s mine.” His hands smoothed up my legs, angling my hips sideways. “It’s yours now, too. Use it whenever you want. ”

“Hmm, you know, for a friend, you certainly are giving.”

He squeezed my hips. “Friends don’t give friends orgasms like I do, either.”

Yep, pretty sure I needed some water to drench my throat and cool me off. I hadn’t even started moving yet and was already out of breath.

“Do friends who give orgasms also give those orgasms to strippers to help their father’s business?” I heard his sigh long before I said strippers , like he knew exactly where my mind would go with his reply. The air was freezing outside, but in the warehouse, it was stifling. If only I were dressed for the gym and not for a Victoria’s Secret spread underneath, I would have taken my shirt off after removing his jacket.

“If I actually obliged my father by doing what he wanted me to do at VanLuxe, he wouldn’t have been in my room that morning, Rose.” His hands started moving again, his palms covering my elbows as he pulled them back. “I’d never cheat on you.”

“But you’d fuck strippers if we weren’t together? What can that possibly do for your father’s business?” Briggs stepped away from my back and moved to face me, taking my raised left fist in his hand as he bent my fingers how he wanted them. My body might have been completely pliant to his touch because I wanted to learn how to defend myself and see how far he’d let me go to get my anger out on him, but above even that, I just liked his hands being back on me.

I wanted to punch his beautiful face almost as much as I wanted to kiss him. It was maddening, to say the least .

His dark, full lashes flicked up as he glared back at me, ready with an answer. “I told you, I don’t expect you to under—”

“Make me then!” I pulled away from him and crossed my arms, my fingernails digging into the black wrapping around my palms. “Tell me why it’s so damn normal for you to go to VanLuxe and conduct business like that.”

His shoulders dropped. “It’s not normal , Rose. Almost nothing about our company is. But some men who see wealth and power as one thing end up going off the rails. To put it as plainly as I can, if their cock gets attention while more money hangs in the balance, they feel more powerful. Making them bend the way we want them to bend is part of my job.” I bit down on my lip, thinking back to how it felt when Briggs had me tied up. I felt powerful and in complete control, no different than the men he did business with. “Most of those men have particular tastes, and if we can tap into that while discussing acquisitions and mergers, then we have the upper hand in the game. We’ve already won by the time they set foot into our elite gentlemen’s club.”

He looked as if he wanted to add more, but I wasn’t sure I’d be okay with whatever he had to add next. “So, you treat it like some kind of twisted business room? Naked women just come around and, what? Do whatever your father or you tell them to do? How do you even know what they like?”

Briggs flipped his fingers up as he answered each question. “Yes. Essentially. And I’m really good at digging up whatever people try to hide. ”

My face drained of any heat I had left as I thought back to just who worked there before. “And Jasmine?” I whispered, not sure if I wanted to know that part, either. “Is that what—”

“As far as I know, Dean took to Jasmine right away. If she was with anyone else before then and had been defiled in any way, I’m sure Dean handled it.”

“What—” He looked to where my hands were falling along the sides. “What does that mean?”

“There are ways to deal with people like that. It means Dean wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.” His face angled down to the floor, his eyes no more than fine slits as they met mine. “Most men in our position wouldn’t.”

“But—” Pain spread along my forehead. I didn’t even notice that he moved back to stand behind me and started positioning my body to fight all over again. “So what you were going to do to August…”

“I’ve contemplated killing him before.” He said it casually, like that was a normal thought to have. “I wanted to drown him at the party when he was talking about fucking you like you were some discarded piece of trash that he could find use for again if he so desired.”

I swallowed, shaking my head. “No, he—”

“I wanted to kill him when he went to my store and said you were nothing more than a slut.”

“No…”

“I wanted to bash his fucking skull in and watch all the blood drain from his body when he refused to go to your parent’s grave to support you. Could have happily watched the life fade from his eyes when he didn’t show up at the downtown theater, making you alone and vulnerable.” He bent in over my shoulder and I turned my head toward him as he whispered, “I didn’t give two fucks when he slept with Clarissa, but when he hurts you? Touches you? Thinks he can have you ?” He kissed my neck, my body in the position where I was supposed to be punching something right after as I melted for him. A soft whimper passed my lips as his teeth grazed my skin. “I didn’t lie when I said I’ve never killed before. But I’d gladly take his life if it meant you weren’t ever going to be hurt by him again.”

“How…” A tear rolled down my cheek. How did I not see the reality of someone I thought was my best friend for so long? How did I not know August was such a terrible human being? “How did I not know?”

Briggs’ thumb wiped away my tear, the press of his lips on my cheek replacing it with warmth. “He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing—a narcissistic man-child hellbent on destroying everything good and pure around him. And you were the most pure thing he knew of to corrupt. The long game he played on you points to how calculating he can truly be.” He adjusted my fists from behind me this time, then raised them a little higher in the air. My arms went taut, my shoulders rolling back. “That’s my girl. Ready to let it all out?”

I nodded, my lips pressing in a tight line while the pillow on the floor grew a body, a face, and a name: August Coleman.

Briggs stepped around me, smiling as he took me in. “Fuck,” he murmured, then used his hand to shift the front of his jeans. It would have been hot had I not also been pissed off at him. At this point, all men could go straight to the fiery gates where they belonged.

“I’m still mad at you, you know. You aren’t getting off that easily.”

“I don’t like getting off easily, Rose baby. I like it hard, rough, and to leave marks on the way, and you know it. Willing to bet you actually like it like that, too.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious, Briggs.” My thumb slipped on my left hand, and I fit it under the rest of my fingers. “I could make a list of all the very valid reasons I have to be mad at you.”

“Keep the thumb out.” He stepped in closer, repositioning my thumb on the outside. “Thumb in—you break bones.” He eyed my other fist, nodding when he saw the thumb was still out like he’d put it before. “As for your list”—he stepped in so close, I could feel his breath on my forehead. He tucked some of my hair back from my face as he said, “I can’t wait to hear how angry I’ve made you. Just means I’ll have to find a resolution for each of those things on your list. ”

I was getting flustered, my breathing working overtime as I pictured each of his methods to fix my list. He was hard, the bulge in his pants was evidently a lot more difficult to hide than he believed, or maybe he didn’t care that it was showing past his efforts to push it down earlier. I knew exactly what he was trying to hide down there, and those pants had no hope.

My filthy, rotten mind screamed for me to forget it all—the anger, the sadness, how I’ve felt over the past few days, and the way he slid in that he’d been following me for who knows how long. But that wasn’t how I learned to cope—pushing things down that bothered me wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I wanted answers just as much as I wanted to rip his clothes right from his chiseled—

“Rose, are you still with me?” The amusement in his eyes when I finally glanced up at him had me pushing my thumbs to the sides of my fingers harder.

“Just tell me what to do and stop doing... that .” My eyes danced around his body, telling him that was basically all of him. He needed to cut it out. His classic black leather jacket, nearly matching the one I toted around, was discarded on one of the benches, his veiny, carefully-sculpted arms covered in ink on full display with the sleeves of his black sweater rolled up. I sighed in frustration as I took in the fine details of his arms. “Promise not to laugh at me and tell me something.”

“Anything.”

“Have you ever been on the cover of a magazine or done some kind of shirtless interview? You’re stupid rich and stupid hot, and that combination just isn’t really fair.”

His cheeks turned pink as he pressed his fingers to cover his lips. “Do you want a few copies?”

“You can’t be serious.” My head cocked, my mouth slipping open at his silence.

Shit, he was serious.

“I’ve been called one of the most eligible bachelors before, and my father made me eat that up publicly for the business.” He shrugged a shoulder.

“You could have anyone you want, and yet, you’re here with me.”

His dark brow arched. “Is that a statement or a question? ”

“Both.” I steadied the tremor in my arms from keeping them in position and shook my head when he noticed. “No. Nevermind. It isn’t important.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be and no one else I’d rather be with. The media said I was eligible, Rose. Not me.” He bent down and scooped up the circular pillow as my stomach fluttered with what that meant. “Let’s continue before you lose the position I put you in, which has a purpose just like your thumbs. I need you to bend your knees a little and relax them.” I dropped a fraction, and he smiled. “Just like that,” he purred his praise and the butterflies in my stomach took to flight, reaching into my throat. “You want to keep your body turned like how I put you before and not shift. The more body you put in front of whoever you are fighting, the more opportunity they have to grab you.”

He tucked the pillow under his arm and moved to shift my hips back to how he had them before he made me forget I had hips in the first place. But this time he was quick and to the point.

I frowned.

“Keep those elbows tucked, and as much as you love to stick your chin up when you tell me off, I’m going to need you to keep that chin down.” He imitated a slow swing, stopping right under my jaw. When he reached my chin, his knuckles caressed the spot. “I hope you never have to use anything I’m teaching you today.” His jaw flexed, the hard lines of his face more outlined with the stubble. Somehow, it didn’t hide his features, it just made them pop more. And to think, at one point there were two men who looked just like him .

“I, personally, can’t wait to test it out.” Briggs’ eyes narrowed on me as his hand dropped back to his side, but I shrugged and continued. “Say I’m at the museum one day and someone comes in to steal something. You know, like I’m staying overnight to archive some ancient, recently discovered artifact, but then the alarms go off and suddenly three men dressed in all black are dropping down from the ceiling.”

He dropped his head, his palm covering his face. “Rose, that only happens in movies.”

“I know.” I waited for his eyes to fall back on mine, hoping I’d see a smile that matched mine. “I just wanted to mess with you.”

“Your humor is by far—”

“One of my best attributes?” I finished.

His gaze roamed from my eyes straight to my lips, then to my chest. “You have a lot of great attributes. I would have a hard time picking your best .”

“Well, I guess—”

“I’d have to say your mouth is probably my favorite.” Yep, that made my cheeks heat too much. I didn’t want him to clarify if it was the words I said from my mouth or if it was what I did to him with my mouth that he liked so much. Because it was possibly both.

I jutted my chin toward the pillow still under his arm. “Are you going to stop talking so much with yours and teach me now, or what?”

Briggs’ entire face lit up. “That’s my girl.” He raised the pillow and waved his hand, beckoning me to punch it.

“I’m ready to tell you my list of things I’m angry about. ”

“Tell me.” My fist made contact, and my fingers twinged in pain. Briggs noticed. “But next time you punch, turn your fist and aim with your middle knuckle like this.” He set the pillow down on the floor, and I struggled to focus on the way his fist was turning as he demonstrated, the corded muscles of his arms flexing in ways that should be illegal. “When you throw your left hand, turn your leg, and when you throw your right, step forward.” He demonstrated that as well, and even though I knew what he was saying was important, I could hardly focus enough to take it all in. “Do you need me to show you again?”

“No, I got it,” I lied. When he picked up the pillow, I tried to mimic as much as I could recall, letting my pent-up anger fuel me.

“Rose, your positioning is wrong.”

“More correct posture later. Let me get my anger out.” I threw punches between my next words. “Like. You. Said.”

He groaned as I threw another sloppy punch at the pillow. I was starting to get why coming here helped him so much. “Start with that list, then.”

“For one, what did you mean when you said you own Jim’s Store?” I realigned my fist, staring at my middle knuckle as I thrust it forward.

“I mean, I bought it.”

I laughed but felt no humor. “So, what?” I punched the pillow again, smiling as I saw Briggs reposition his stance from my punch. “You can not only afford to buy a town, but you actually fucking did it? How many places do you own in this town, Briggs? ”

He was silent for a moment, and I took that time to throw a few more solid punches, the pain from hitting wrong the first time quickly subsiding as my middle knuckle took the brunt of the force. “I own Jim’s, this place, and a few other places. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Why would you buy in Shuster? There’s nothing out here, and isn’t VanLuxe in New York City over an hour away?” His jaw worked as he glanced just past my shoulder, unable to meet my eyes. “I need an answer.” I stopped punching and put my hands on my hips.

“It was a good investment,” he said. “Try punching with your right.”

“No,” I replied defiantly. “And I don’t buy your answer, but I have more questions, so I’ll just move on anyway.” I blew air up to move the damp hair from my forehead. It was hot, and with the amount of force I was putting into every punch, I was only going to sweat more. Which was perfect because what better way to get more answers than to do what I did next?

“Rose, what are you doing?”

“It’s hot, so I’m getting comfortable.” I finished pulling the hem of my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. His throat bobbed as he took me in.

“Two can play that game.” He dropped the pillow, and I gawked as he removed his sweater. “You’re right, this is more comfortable.”

“Jerk,” I muttered, trying not to look at any exposed part of him.

“If you knew how many times I pictured that same bra on you, my hands ripping it from your body, you’d be calling me something much worse.” Heat pooled in his eyes. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen you more appropriately dressed, Rose baby.”

I swallowed and glared at the pillow as he picked it back up, then went right back to punching. “Next question. How many people have you slept with?” The second my question came out, I regretted it. I didn’t want to know how many women he’d been with, not really.

His smile fell flat. “Enough to know that I don’t want anyone else since I’ve tasted you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you ever reply with simple answers? Ones that actually answer what I asked?” As much as my question had slightly piqued my interest in hearing a number, I was kind of glad he replied as he usually did. Vague, but an answer nonetheless.

“Rose, you don’t want to know my number. All that matters is that you are my last.”

His last? I let my arms fall to my sides. “Are you in—” I stopped myself before I could ask what I wanted to, switching up the ending instead. “Are you in the mafia?” Asking if he loved me…well, I wouldn’t know how to respond to whatever answer he’d give to that. But being someone’s last and voicing that belief wasn’t something I took lightly. It eased some of the anger I was holding on to, knowing his drive was more than just some fixation on my well-being.

His features softened. “No, Rose. But the way my father runs his business isn’t too far from one, I guess.”

“So he treats you like a puppet, and you just accept that?”

He smiled softly. “My mouth doesn’t get me as far with my father as yours does with me. ”

I rolled my eyes again, then repositioned my body to throw another punch. Swiping some hair that kept falling in front of my face, I reached for the band on my arm to tie it but stopped as Briggs let the pillow fall to the floor.

“Let me,” he said. I cocked a questioning brow at him. “Your hands are wrapped. It’s going to be a little hard. So, let me.”

I flexed my hands at my sides, noting that my fingers could move just fine, but passed him the band anyway as he held out his hand. His fingers were gentle as he combed through my hair and gathered the strands at the nape of my neck, smoothing the hair along the top with extra care.

“Where did you learn to tie hair?” My grandfather struggled when I was young and always passed the job on to my grandmother. A lot of men had no clue how to tie up hair, apparently. But Briggs did.

He tugged on my ponytail, pulling my gaze to the ceiling. “I know how to tie up a lot of things.” His fingers moved from my hair and trailed over the top of my exposed shoulders, his thumbs digging in to gently massage the muscles around my neck. I loosed a breath, trying not to groan at the sensation. Which became a lot harder as he bent in to brush his lips along my neck, kissing each of the fading marks he’d left before. “Are you still mad at me, baby?” His hands smoothed over the bruises dotting my upper arm before he bent to kiss there, too.

“Yes,” I lied.

He chuckled, the warmth of his breath making goosebumps form on my skin. “Do you want to keep punching, or do you want to release that tension in another way? ”

I gulped. “I uh…” I paused for longer than I should have, losing all train of thought as Briggs pushed his body against my back, his erection firm and demanding. And then he pulled back, walked around to the front of me, and picked the pillow back up.

I frowned deeply.

“Let’s play a game.” He patted the pillow and I fixed my stance to throw a punch I didn’t feel like throwing anymore. My body had quickly turned from hot-tempered to hot-and-bothered.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked breathlessly.

“Throw three good punches in a row, and I’ll remove a piece of my clothing, or you can ask another question. Your choice. If your punches are thrown wrong, or you miss the pillow or fumble in your position, you have to remove a piece of clothing instead.”

My brows raised. “What, not interested in asking me any questions?”

His eyes traced the lines of my bra and the petal-like curves along the top that dug into my breasts as my chest expanded on a breath. “I can save mine for another time.” There was nothing but pure, raw hunger in the way he was looking at me.

I looked at the wall behind him to catch my breath. “Oh yeah, I forgot. You’ve been following me around. Probably have been tracking my phone like some kind of…” My words died on my tongue as I watched a smirk form on his lips. “You’ve been tracking my phone?!”

He shrugged. “I had to make sure you were safe.”

I blanched back and went right for my phone in my pocket, pulling it out and searching for the shared locations like I had set up with my grandparents. But found nothing. I looked back up at him as he pried my phone from my hands. “You won’t find it, baby. And if you did, I’d just put it right back on there.”

“Are you aware that what you’re doing is essentially stalking?”

His jaw worked at the accusation. “I’m not stalking you, Rose. I’m making sure no one can harm what’s mine.”

“Who the hell would want—”

“Your ex-best friend, for one, as he just proved. Had I not been tracking your phone, I wouldn’t have known where you were. So before you accuse me of being in the wrong, maybe consider what could have happened had I not been watching where you went.” I swallowed and watched as he moved to put my phone on the bench, then returned with the pillow at the ready. “Be mad if you want. But that tracker stays. And if you do find it and get rid of it, I won’t stop at simply putting it back on there. I’ll put one in your body and you can be just like your actual friend, Jasmine. Do you understand?”

“Jasmine wouldn’t…she wouldn’t allow that.”

“I think you’d be surprised at the things she allows because she chose to be with Dean,” he said pointedly. “Now, are you going to play the game? I’m sure I just made you more angry, so let’s see those punches.”

I scowled and threw three punches in succession. Three that were terrible, and I had to shake my hand out at the way each hit landed on my pinky. Briggs stood back and smirked knowingly at the length of my body.

“The jeans. But let me do it.”

“I can—” I started to protest, but he was already standing in front of me, working on undoing the button, then the zipper .

He got down on his knees, making me blush furiously. “Lift your feet, baby.” I did without snapping back at him and watched with fascination as he repeated the movement with the other leg, carefully rolling the jeans down and removing them. “These will go last.” He kissed the front of my black thong, making me squirm as I stood before him.

“What if I win first?” I asked in a whisper as he looked up at me.

His head cocked. “Then I’ll kneel before you naked and take whatever you give me.”

I felt weak in the knees, sure they would give way at any moment. “And what if I give nothing?”

“Do you want to give me nothing, Rose?” He started kissing his way slowly up my body like he was memorizing every inch of exposed skin, taking his time around the burn mark over my ribs, treating the skin like it was a fresh scar that needed to be healed.

I stared back at him, a simmering flush crawling down my neck and chest. “No,” I answered truthfully.

He planted his last kiss on my forehead like I was the most precious thing he’d ever touched, then stepped back and got into position with the pillow. “Be a good girl, and show me what you’ve learned today.”

He eyed my stance and watched curiously as I found the correct footing, angling my hips to the side and holding my dominant arm back just like he showed me. He nodded his approval, and with the next three punches, I didn’t hesitate to eye his jeans, hoping he’d gone commando and this game could just end already. I had to hold back from pouting as his black boxer briefs were revealed, the outline of his hard length making my mouth water.

Which he noticed.

“Finish the game,” he ordered gently. “Focus.”

I readied my hands, the distraction of his nearly-naked body doing nothing to keep my hands on track to hit the pillow correctly. He was in front of me before I knew it, reaching his arms behind me and undoing the clasp of my bra with one hand. He stepped back and watched as I let the straps fall off my shoulders. His pupils flared, and my nipples peaked under his scrutiny.

“You’re so flawless, baby,” he finally let out. “I never believed in a god until I saw you naked in the shower. It’s no wonder you appreciate the arts so much—someone spent their good-fucking time sculpting every curve of your body. But no sculpture could ever replicate what I see before me now.”

“Briggs, continue, please. The game,” I breathed out, the words barely forming in my mind, much less reaching my tongue.

He finally nodded and retrieved his pillow, his gaze never leaving my body. I wasn’t sure how my next round of punches went, and I was certain he didn’t know either because he just dropped the pillow when I was done and removed his briefs without saying a word. The tip of his cock bobbed right beneath his navel, the slight curve reminding me of the way his fingers felt inside me, hitting that spot that drove me wild. I was willing to bet he could do the same thing without his fingers being involved. I bit down on my lip, wondering what that would feel like. To be connected to him like that .

“Rose, the pillow. Throw.” Neither of us was focused on the pillow anymore, and instead of following his orders, I dropped my hands and walked right up to him. The pillow hit the floor as my last step closed the distance between us.

“I don’t want to play anymore, Briggs.” I started searching for the end of the wrap he made around my hands, getting flustered when I couldn’t focus enough to find it.

“Here,” he whispered, taking my hands in his. He slowly removed the wraps, rubbing his thumb along my palm the moment a hand was freed, then doing the same with the other. There was a softness in his eyes that held an unspoken question— are you sure you want this? Want me?

Alarm bells rang in my head when August attempted to get this close to me while I was fully clothed, but nothing sounded in my head when I looked at Briggs. Everything I felt was between my chest and thighs. My body ached to know him, to be with him like I’d never been before with anyone else.

I stared down at our hands, my fingers moving to trace the line of where I’d stitched him up. Moving up along his corded forearms, I traced the intricate lines of his tattoos, pausing on a few of the white marks that had been left from injuries I could only imagine, done by someone who was supposed to love him. I trailed over the vines with sharp thorns that moved between each tattoo, threading through each one up to his shoulder and down the front of his chest. There was a tattoo I’d never seen before, right over his heart—the only one with color. I hadn’t noticed it before. Between the pillow and my attention falling to other parts of his miraculous, flawless body, I hadn’t seen the new piece he wasn’t shying from showing me.

My brows pinched together, my other hand coming up to touch the petals as he stared down at me. “Is this…” I paused, unable to ask the question he probably knew was coming. I wanted to ask about the vines the first time I saw them at the diner, but with the new tattoo…it seemed to have a different meaning entirely.

“A rose?” he asked, just as breathless as I was. “Yes.”

“I-is it…for me?” My heart stopped beating because he didn’t answer right away. Briggs’ knuckles grazed along my jaw, drawing my gaze back up to him. My eyelids fluttered as I leaned into his hand.

“Rose baby, everything is for you.”

I giggled weakly. “Even that you couldn’t answer with a simple yes or no ?”

“Nothing will ever be simple with you, and I’m apologizing for that now, in advance.” He picked me up, his fingers spreading along my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed me deeply as he made slow, steady steps—I wasn’t sure where to, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that my heart beat harder than any drum in existence while every inch of me wanted whatever he had planned for us. I wasn’t sure how to react to the tattoo on his chest, but as I pressed my palm to it, he shuddered. As he continued walking, his erection pressed against me, making me all the more blind to what we were doing until my back met a cold, hard surface.

“Briggs,” I pulled back from our kiss, blinking as I looked around. We were in a smaller room within the same warehouse, judging by the corrugated walls and the gym equipment around us. A metal bar spread ominously above my head, where two thick, black straps with narrow holes at the ends dangled about a foot apart from each other.

“I’ve got you,” Briggs replied, taking my hand and fitting it through one of the loops. I looked down at the floor as he worked on the other, making my legs tighten around his waist for support. Behind Briggs was a black bench, and the frame around the bar led me to believe this setup had once been a weight bench—only, I’d never seen a weight bench with so many straps coiled around the ends and more than one bar to support those straps. Suspended on a bar behind and above Briggs were slightly longer straps, one at each end of the pole. “Now it’s your turn, Rose. Yes or no? Do you still want me?”

I arched a brow at him, glancing between my wrapped wrists and his eyes that glinted even in the dimly lit room. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, knowing exactly what those other two straps would be supporting if I agreed.

When I fuck you, it will hurt.

When I fuck you, Rose baby, I won’t be gentle.

When I fuck this perfect little cunt of yours, I want to hear you scream as I fill you, over and over again.

He squeezed my ass firmly, and I whimpered in his hold, rolling my wrists against their restraints. “I told you what this would be like, Rose. I showed you some of my preferences. But, here’s the thing.” He reached between us, rolling my nipple between his fingers, then tugging it down sharply as I let out a moan. “I know you’re going to love every damn second of it.”

“Will it really hurt?”

“Yes.” His breath was warm against my ear as he continued, “But only because it’s your first time. These straps aren’t designed to hurt you, baby. But my body might not be the most accommodating to someone as tight as you.” One of his hands slid over my ass, and when he reached my thong, he tugged it to the side, pushing his finger inside my weeping pussy. I moaned as he growled in my ear. “So fucking tight. You’ll be sore, and you might bleed, but I’ll make sure you end up enjoying the way I fill you. The way I’m going to pump my cum inside you until it’s leaking into a puddle on the floor.”

I whimpered again and nodded fervently against his shoulder. “Yes. Yes, I want you.”

He removed his finger and slid one hand down at a time, looping the final two straps around my ankles before letting them fall until the straps stopped my legs from falling further below his hips. I felt like I was sitting in an invisible chair, the straps on my wrists closer to the bar above me than the leg straps were to the bar above them.

“Has this always been here?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the way my wrists were rubbing on the straps. He moved to support my body with his hands again, cupping my ass and slapping each side with a loud clap that had me moaning like a crazed animal.

“I set this up for me and you to use the night of the bonfire, knowing I couldn’t stop at just kissing you.” He cupped my chin and squeezed my cheeks together as he said, “No other woman is ever going to have my cock other than you. Do you hear me? My body is yours”—he let the straps support me briefly as he stepped back and slapped my pussy roughly, forcing a cry from my lungs—“just as much as every part and curve of your body is mine.”

“Mhmm,” was all I could let out.

He stepped back into me, gripping the fabric of my panties and ripping them in half, then snapping the flimsy string from around my waist.

“I liked those!”

“I’ll buy you a thousand more,” he replied, taking his cock in one hand and slapping my pussy with it, my arousal spreading along his length with obscene noises that only made me more wet for him. I tensed up as he paused, thinking he was about to surge into me, but instead, he leaned back and situated the bench between my spread legs, then took a seat at the end, right in front of my parted center.

“So pretty.” Briggs started licking and sucking up the length of my thigh, then moved to the other, forming red circles in his wake, marking me as his and his alone. When he reached my parted slit, his breath was the only indicator of how close he was to devouring me whole as I let my head fall back with the sensations.

“Briggs,” I moaned, grabbing onto what I could of the strap, trying to lift my body to sway closer toward his waiting mouth.

I could hear the smirk on his lips. “You greedy, desperate little thing.”

“Please,” I begged.

“The only thing sweeter than you begging for my tongue is the way your cunt is dripping already for me. And, Rose baby, I’m too parched to deny you.” His mouth went to work, devouring me—licking and biting my clit as his hands held up my ass, guiding my suspended body closer to his face. My legs trembled as he brought me to the edge faster than I expected. He paused his torment and guided his fingers into me leisurely. “Those straps make you desperate for my cock, don’t they?”

“Yes,” I answered without regret, knowing this was what I’d wanted that day when he all but feasted on me on his pool table.

“Then come for me. Soak my mouth and tongue, and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”