CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
J ULIAN
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A LL I COULD SEE WAS a damn wall. Stefanie had turned the bear around hours ago. No, I couldn’t see her, but I could still listen in. Unfortunately, there was only silence for hours. A lonely silence that damn near had me going over her house and demanding she let me love her.
She didn’t have to love me back, not right away. She just had to let me love her. But I knew she needed time to process what I’d told her. Given her past, I would’ve been shocked if she’d jumped into my arms right away.
I was just thankful she hadn’t tossed the teddy bear onto the porch. I was especially glad for that a few hours later when I heard those loud-ass bangs in her house. I’d thought something was wrong.
I’d called out for her. When she hadn’t answered, I pulled up the security feed from the front of her house. That’s when I saw the car parked in the yard and the man banging on her door like he’d lost his mind. I’d seen red.
A man. At Stefanie’s house. Trying to get in.
I had to kill him. There were no other options. I zoomed in on the license plate and learned it was Hudson Howard, the coworker I’d already planned to put my hands on. My jaw clenched.
After chatting with the security guard at the news station a month ago, I learned Hudson and Stefanie weren’t as close as I thought. Because of that, I’d planned to leave the fucker alone. After my last conversation with the guard, I learned that Hudson had seemed to threaten Stefanie that day those bad storms rolled through, putting the man back on my radar.
I just hadn’t had time to pay him a visit yet. It seemed I needed to make time. I stood up, grabbed my keys, and walked out of my house. By the time I made it to her home, he was already gone.
I drove past her house twice that night, making sure no one was bothering her. The next morning, I sat in my office, the blinds drawn, lights off. The only illumination came from the multiple monitors displaying information on Hudson Howard.
I’d already had him investigated. I just hadn’t properly gone through the information yet. I had files, surveillance footage, and a detailed schedule of his daily routine. The man was predictable, almost insultingly so.
He came from a wealthy family. His father was strict and expected him to excel at whatever he did. There had been claims of childhood abuse and domestic violence in his household while growing up.
It seemed his father had gotten those claims dropped. But the truth was, the old man had beaten his wife and his kid. The old man believed a woman’s place was in the house, taking care of the family. He’d been noted as saying that the best woman was a silent, unseen woman.
He’d raised Hudson to believe that also. So why did Hudson want Stefanie? She was a career-driven woman. She wasn’t his type. Yet, he was determined to have her. I brought up some of his phone records that my PI had gotten his hands on.
Nothing suspicious there, except that I didn’t like the number of times he called Stefanie. He’d even texted India Adams a few times, asking her about her mother and the things her mother liked.
The bastard hadn’t even cared enough to put in a little work and figure that out for himself. I flipped through the information Rashad had sent me about Stefanie’s husband. According to Rashad, her husband had been friends with Hudson.
I clicked through those files, skimming over them, searching for the ones Rashad said he’d flagged for me. Found them . There were some old communications between Hudson and Archie, Stefanie’s ex.
What fucking kind of name was Archibald Adams. It sounded like a douche name. They’d exchanged emails back and forth often. In one email, Hudson asked if Archie was responsible for the bruise on Stefanie’s arm.
Archie confirmed it, saying she’d angered him by not having his clothes ready for work. Hudson wrote back and said that he needed to keep his hands off her because she had to be on the air, and if viewers saw that, Archie would be in trouble.
Archie replied that from now on, he’d make sure the bruises weren’t visible. I closed my eyes against their exchanges, wishing they were both in front of me right now so I could put a bullet in their heads.
I opened my eyes slowly and forced myself to continue reading. I found another part Rashad had flagged. The more I read, the angrier I got. I’d overheard some of this the day I eavesdropped on Stefanie’s conversation at the hospital. But this... this was fucked up.
And Hudson had been a part of it. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest it. And then, when things went south and Stefanie’s husband decided to leave her for his mistress, Hudson had encouraged him to do so, stating that sad pussy was the best and he’d be her rebound guy once Archie was gone.
Archie had bet Hudson a thousand dollars that he wouldn’t be able to get the pussy. Fortunately, the douche died in a car accident a few days later. His mistress had been in the car with him. She later died at the hospital.
And being called to the hospital that night was how Stefanie learned that not only was her husband leaving her, but he was also cheating on her. Had been cheating on her throughout their entire relationship.
I took a deep breath and held it in for a few seconds. I exhaled slowly. I’d never understood the concept of cheating. Why get into a committed relationship if you didn’t want to commit to the relationship?
Why betray the one you claimed to love? If you didn’t want to be with them, leave them. Why hurt them more by giving someone else what was supposed to be theirs? There was so much damning information in these exchanges.
And Hudson hadn’t deleted any of the emails. Some of the emails went back eighteen years. He no longer used the account, but the emails were still there. Was he keeping them for a reason? To use against Stefanie? To blackmail her into submission?
But why wait all these years to do it? I didn’t know what he was up to, but I knew I didn’t like it. This motherfucker needed to join her husband in hell. But not yet. He was up to something, and I needed to know what it was. I needed to know if there were others involved.
Something about this didn’t feel right. If I took him out without knowing the truth, that could hurt Stefanie in the long run. I couldn’t do that. But I damn sure couldn’t let this motherfucker show up at her house again either.
That’s why, when night fell, I found myself at his gym, the one he frequented most nights. It had taken Rashad all day to duplicate a keycard for me to get in. And he hadn’t been a hundred percent sure that it would work since it was rushed.
It worked. I entered the gym and stared around the place. Since it was night, there were only two people working out, and they were on opposite ends of the room. Neither looked up when the door chimed, announcing my entrance.
Had no one ever told them to always keep their eyes on the entrances and exits? I guess not. My gaze moved to the far right, where Hudson’s bitch ass was lying on a bench, pushing weights without a spotter.
I approached slowly, wishing I could beat him to death with one of those weights. As he prepared for another rep, I placed my hand firmly on the bar, preventing him from lifting. His eyes shot up to meet mine, confusion clouding his gaze.
“I don’t need a spotter,” he said dismissively.
"You're Hudson Howard, right?” I asked. “The Hudson who used to work with Stefanie Adams?"
His gaze narrowed, and he tried to push the bar up. I held it down, forcing him to strain. His eyes widened, a look of panic flaring in their depths. I leaned down to deliver the message I’d come to deliver.
"I'll tell you this once, and only once," I said, my voice low and deadly. "Stay away from Stefanie and her daughter. Don’t call them. Don’t text them. Don’t even fucking think about them,” I hissed as his arms trembled.
“If I see you near her home again, or hear that you've been asking about her or threatening her in any way, I’ll make you regret ever hearing the name Stefanie Adams."
I released the bar abruptly. His arms buckled, the weights nearly crashing onto his chest. He struggled to rack them, gasping for breath, his face flushed with exertion and fear. I watched, taking pleasure in his discomfort.
Without another word, I turned and walked out, the gym's fluorescent lights flickering overhead as I exited the building. As I reached the parking lot, a voice called out behind me.
"Hey!"
I stopped and turned slowly. Hudson stood near the front door of the gym.
"You must be the new man she's sleeping with," Hudson sneered. "The one who was at her house last night."
I forced a grin, though it didn't reach my eyes.
"I'm the man who's cherishing her. The man in love with her. The man who’s protecting her. Say something negative toward her again, and I will..."
I glanced up at the security cameras mounted on the building. Shit . I returned my gaze to his.
"You don’t want to anger me, Hudson Howard."
He chuckled, trying to mask his unease. "Listen, young man, Stefanie is too complicated for you. Why don't you find a nice young girl to play with and stop toying with older women?"
"I'm in love with Stefanie Adams. If anything, she's toying with me, not the other way around."
Hudson's jaw tightened. "Look, she's not what she seems..."
"Neither am I," I interrupted.
"She has a dark side."
I took a step closer, my gaze cold as ice. "You're staring darkness in the face right now."
He scoffed, taking a step back. "You've got a response for everything, don't you? Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Julian Cattaneo."
His eyes widened slightly at the name.
“Cattaneo?” he whispered.
"Stay away from my woman, Hudson. I'm the jealous type. And I'm also a Cattaneo. I'll leave it at that."
With that, I turned and walked to my car, leaving him standing there, a combination of fear and confusion etched on his face. I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel as I drove home, the rhythmic tapping doing little to quell the storm brewing inside me.
The drive home was a blur, my mind replaying every second of that encounter with Hudson. The smugness in his voice when he said Stefanie's name, the insinuation that she had a dark side, as if that was something to be ashamed of.
So what if she had a dark side? She’d done what she had to do to survive, to protect her daughter. That didn't make her any less deserving of love. It made her more deserving, if you asked me.
I really wished I’d punched him in his fucking face. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my fingers turning red. The urge to turn the car around, to follow Hudson home and end this once and for all, was almost overpowering.
But I couldn't. Not yet. The gym's security cameras had likely captured our interaction. If something happened to him now, it would lead back to me. And I couldn't risk involving Stefanie in any of this.
She'd been through enough. I had to be patient and finish investigating this bitch. By the time I pulled into my driveway, the tension in my shoulders was unbearable. I needed to cool off. A hot shower seemed like the best option.
I entered my home, activated the security system, and stripped out of my clothes. In the shower, the water cascaded over me, easing the tension in my muscles, but not the anger. That lingered, festering just beneath the surface.
After drying off, I grabbed my phone and pulled up the feed from the Messenger Bear. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see anything. But just hearing her move around the house would let me know she was okay, and that would help calm me down a little.
With my towel wrapped around my waist, I sat on the edge of my bed and stared down at the live feed. To my surprise, the bear was no longer facing the wall. The camera now showed Stefanie's bedroom.
And there she was, lying on the bed, robe parted, her fingers trailing over her skin, eyes closed. My breath caught in my throat. Desire surged through me, fully eclipsing my anger.
I brought the phone closer to my mouth and said, “Stefanie Adams, what the hell are you doing?”
She didn’t stop touching herself.
Instead, her eyes opened, she looked straight at the red dot, and said, “You’re late, Julian Cattaneo.”
My mouth went dry and my dick woke the fuck up. It seemed I was right on time.
***
S TEFANIE
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I T WAS LATE. I’D EATEN dinner. Had my shower. Talked to Indie for a few minutes. Now, it was time to get some words in. To be a writer, I had to write. Clad in a T-shirt, boy shorts, and ankle socks, I sat on my couch, laptop in my lap, and stared down at the screen.
I was supposed to be writing a sex scene, but the words wouldn’t come. I wanted to start it off with a bang. Literally . Explosive, toe-curling, lip-biting sex that made readers gasp and fan themselves.
The kind of scene that made them cancel plans just to keep reading. But the words on the screen were flat. Lifeless. Mechanical. He touched her here. She kissed him there. He fucked her here, she sucked him there.
Ugh. My own writing was turning me off. There was no emotion, no heat, no passion. I didn’t feel a damn thing reading it back. I sighed and let my head fall against the back of the couch. Maybe Ronnie was right. Maybe I needed some sexual inspiration.
Something real, something raw. Something to remind me what desire actually felt like. I hadn’t had dick since spring break. I was starting to forget what it felt like to have my back blown out.
My gaze drifted across the room to the corner where that damn bear sat, turned around and facing the wall like it was being punished. It was being punished. Punished because the man who bought it was stubborn.
But that man would be the perfect inspiration for my love scenes. Nope. I couldn’t. Not after I told him I didn’t want to talk through the bear, not after saying that I was going to throw it away on trash day.
It had only been a day since I’d said all that, and here I was, needing the man behind the bear. Maybe I could pull up a little porn instead. Just for inspiration. Strictly research. But that would just make me horny, and why start something I wasn’t in the mood to finish?
Ugh. Focus, Stefanie.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to conjure up a scene that would make readers squirm in their seats. I tried to get into the head of a woman losing herself in pleasure. Filthy, passionate, reckless pleasure.
And then, damn it, Julian popped into my head. Spring break. His mouth. His hands. That sinful voice in my ear. Nope . I shoved that thought aside and tried to focus on someone else. Anyone else.
My brain flipped the Rolodex of past lovers and landed on No Stroke Daniel. Hell no! The man had sex like he was afraid to break a sweat. All that muscle, and he hadn’t known how to use a single inch of it.
Next .
Bite The Pussy Eric. That man thought eating pussy meant literal biting. He’d had my lower lips sore for a week. I’d walked funny for days and not in a good way. I’d made up a fake allergy just to avoid seeing him again.
I opened my eyes and stared down at my laptop, fingers hovering over the keys. Still nothing. I wanted to write about a man who worshipped a woman’s body. A man who didn’t just touch her, but read her.
Who listened to every gasp and moan and responded in kind. A man who didn’t rush. Who savored. Who took pride in making a woman fall apart under his mouth, his hands, his cock. Someone like...
Damn it, Julian.
Unfortunately, he was my go-to reference. Other memories weren’t cutting it. They didn’t bring the fire I needed. Plus, I didn’t want to depend on memories to conjure the scenes. I needed to feel it so I could make the scene descriptive, describing what the heroine of my novel feels in real time as she’s being pleasured by her lover.
I wanted to describe everything, every brush of his fingers, every lick of his tongue, every slow thrust that stole her breath and made her beg for more. And I didn’t just want her perspective. I wanted his.
What did her pussy feel like wrapped around his finger, what about his cock? What did she taste like on his tongue? How tight did she clench his length when she came? I stared at the bear again. I needed help. Julian’s help.
But asking outright would stroke his ego, and his ego didn’t need any more inflation. No, I had to be subtle. Strategic. Make him want to help me. Make him desperate to. I smiled slowly, a plan in mind.
It was time to put Julian’s latest gift to good use!