Chapter 4
4
R AIN
I slip out the door, my blood pounding in my ears, my thoughts unraveling.
Absently moving my fingers over my lips, I look for a trace, proof that our kiss was real. Still longing for the taste of him.
What had gotten into me?
What made me think that was a good idea?
My move wasn’t part of a well-thought-out plan and could’ve gone wrong quickly.
I can’t even begin to imagine what he must’ve thought about my braze gesture.
Usually, I’m more calculated than this, reserved, and more cautious.
Not that I have a lot of experience in kissing a man. Boys, yes. Men, not so much.
In hindsight, it was an impulse I couldn’t resist or explain.
Maybe I felt relieved that I could finally go home. Or I was grateful he’d found Daria for me.
One thing I know, though.
The time spent with them was one of the most intense and terrifying moments of my life.
They tried to keep things clean and polite, mainly because James had set the tone and stubbornly enforced it, but even so, I could see through the appearances.
I was like fresh food in the lions’ den.
They circled, sniffed, and licked their lips in anticipation while visually feeding on every inch of my body.
I’m not used to being out in the company of men, especially this type of man.
The mix of fear and sheer excitement had given me an unexpected, unfamiliar thrill.
“There you are,” Daria says, somewhat bored, tossing her cigarette on the pavement and crushing the stub with her stiletto.
I swoosh by her, dashing to the car.
We climb in.
She gives me a sidelong glance.
“What happened to you?”
“Nothing,” I say, turning on the engine and swerving the car onto the road.
“You’re too quiet,” she says, suddenly interested in me.
Smoothly, she dips her long fingers into her purse and retrieves another cigarette.
“Don’t,” I say firmly before snatching the cigarette out of her hand, rolling down the window, and tossing it out. “You know how much our mother hates the smell of cigarettes in her car.”
She looks at me, perplexed, her fingers crooked in the air, her lips parted.
“Who are you?” she mutters derisively.
I simply ignore her.
Shifting in her seat, she trains her eyes on me and studies me intently.
“And how did you find me, anyway?” she asks, her voice dripping with suspicion.
“You told me to pick you up at Red’s, remember?”
“I didn’t say to look for me inside. Besides, I wasn’t inside when I called you.”
“Well, I figured someone from Red’s could help me find you.”
“Hmm... Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“So, who did you talk to?”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” I say in a tone she’s never heard before.
She continues, undeterred.
“Man? Woman?”
“Why do you need to know?” I ask, noticing the tension in her voice.
“Who let you in, Rain?” she presses further.
“No one. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter because normally, you wouldn’t be able to get in.”
“Well, maybe it was my lucky night.”
She swings her eyes to the road, her fingers drumming on her thigh.
“I’ll tell you how I got in if you tell me who you fucked inside tonight,” I say.
She whips her eyes at me. She’s angry and... surprised? She really thinks I’m dumb.
Her gaze slides away from me again.
“Were you applying for a job?” I sneer.
She doesn’t answer.
“I guess you were. Life must be tough for Daria Morgan. The silver spoon in her mouth no longer does it for her.”
“Oh, just… Please… Go fuck yourself, self-righteous bitch,” she retorts, waving me off, aggravated.
I smile, smug with satisfaction.
“Hmm. You don’t even know that... You don’t know if I’m self-righteous or not. Maybe I’m no better than you. At least, if I start sleeping with men, I won’t do it behind my fiancé’s back.”
She flicks her gaze in my direction, her eyes spewing hatred.
“Listen, you little bitch…” she says, foaming at the mouth. “You know nothing about men, airhead. So you’re in no position to judge me. You have no idea about fucking. Or me, for that matter. Yes, I’m going to get married. And in the meantime, I’m having a good time. So fucking what? What do you have? A bicycle, a book, and your virgin friend. Don’t fool yourself, Rain. No man is going to put up with you. It doesn’t matter how hot you are. You are as boring as the book you’re trying to write. Had you not been so dull and stubborn, someone would’ve dipped their dick into you by now. You should consider yourself lucky if you find a drunk frat boy to ram his dick into you next year when you go to college. In the meantime, call your friend, chant your virginal thoughts, and leave me the fuck alone.”
I push out a chuckle.
“What’s so fucking funny?” she snaps, annoyed.
“You...”
She flicks her eyes away and glances out the window.
Minutes later, the car comes to a stop as we pull up in front of our home.
* * *
JAMES
All my life, women have been a one-way street to me.
I’ve always taken, initiated, and demanded whenever I have fancied something.
I never looked for much variety, the women fitting neatly into one category.
Beautiful, willing, and forgettable.
Some call them sluts. I call them nature’s gift to man.
Life can be a struggle and a bore, even more so without them.
For many men, myself included, they are a good enough reason to pull out of bed in the morning and go out there and chase whatever the hell we’re chasing.
To men like me, these women are the dangling carrot, the sweet reward, and they feed the beast in us.
With that said, I know who they are and how much they can give. I don’t judge and never disrespect them.
I take them for what they are and enjoy them a lot.
In my defense, that’s all I know.
I had my first escorts as a teenager and got a good taste of them while they were spilling over from my father.
Growing up, I went through a large assortment of prissy girls, the princesses who’d been invited to our parties.
No matter how well-behaved and taught they were, they found me irresistible and couldn’t say no to me, so they dropped their panties and let me have some fun with them.
Getting women to my liking has never been a problem.
In time, I got a better grasp of who I was and picked them dirtier and dirtier, knowing full well that some immaculate angel won’t cut it for me.
Once in a while, when fucking women like that amounts to nothing, it dawns on me there must be more than that out there.
But somehow, I doubt there’s someone there for me, so I put the thought to rest and do what I do best.
I fuck. I move on. I don’t dwell. And I never settle.
“She kissed you?”
Ed’s eyes pop wide, almost falling out of his head.
“Mm-hmm. Clean kiss. No tongue.”
“Does she know who you are?” he asks.
“She has no fucking idea,” Lex chimes in.
“And you let her go?” Ed asks.
“I did, and you should too.”
I toss my drink back, swallowing the liquor quickly.
“I’m going home,” I say, pulling out of my seat even though the night is still young.
“So early?”
“Yeah. I’m not in the mood to do anything else tonight.”
Lex rises to his feet and joins me.
We stroll across the club, people nodding at us as we leave Red’s.
Ed follows us shortly after.
“I drive,” I say.
Lex hands me the keys.
Minutes later, we exit the town and turn left, heading to the Dark House.
I roll the window down, and the air whooshes in.
It’s chilly outside.
The evenings get colder with every passing day as the summer draws quickly to an end and fall nestles in the meadows.
We drive in silence, sunk in thought.
Twenty minutes later, we roll past a wrought iron gate and take the gravel road through large clusters of trees before reaching the mansion.
We slip by the guest house and come to a full stop in the circular driveway in front of the Dark House.
The place is quiet and shrouded in darkness.
Very few staff members work here these days, and they only come in when needed but never when we are here.
We climb out of the car, take the few stairs, and enter a large foyer before pushing through a second door that opens into a spacious living room.
I stop at the bar to fix a round of drinks for all of us while Ed pulls away and vanishes into one of the bedrooms.
Lex and I walk onto the spacious patio overlooking the lake.
We slide the drinks onto the table and sink into our chairs.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
Lex takes a mouthful of bourbon.
“Yeah, he’s fine. He hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. That’s all.”
I light a cigarette and set my eyes on the water.
“So what’s the story, James?”
“What do you mean?” I murmur, evading his eyes.
“You’ve been acting strangely since we ran into that girl.”
“It’s nothing... And it doesn’t have to do with her.”
“Why is she off limits then?”
I glance at him.
“You seem interested...” I say, studying his eyes.
“Unlike you, I wouldn’t have a problem getting to know her a little better,” he says, bringing his drink to his lips.
A grin curves his lips while he takes a swig.
I give him a quiet, misleading chuckle.
“I don’t have a problem. It’s just that I don’t need her.”
He sets his glass down.
“Who said anything about using her? Daria’s given us plenty to work with.”
He pauses, and I shake my head.
“Nah... I don’t want her for anything else either.”
“It’s the best way to get her out of your system,” he says, a knowing smile creasing his lips.
“She’s not in my system.”
He stays silent, observing me.
“She is not,” I say firmly, unable to beat back a grin. “Just because she kissed me doesn’t mean she’s got under my skin.”
I gulp half of my drink and wince as I swallow, the blistering heat of the alcohol burning the roof of my mouth before tumbling down my throat.
“You know me better than that,” I argue.
“That’s exactly why I’m saying what I’m saying. I’ve never seen you so affected by some girl’s innocent kiss. And she may be a girl, but there’s a woman buried in that body. And that woman is hot as hell.”
I feel a rush as I absorb his words.
He’s right.
She sure is… Those round full tits, tapered waist, and toned, long legs with a narrow gap between her thighs.
I’d love to press my tongue between her folds, lick her clit until she shudders, and then grab her ass and fuck her madly.
Not to mention her pretty little face and long sandy blonde bangs framing her amber-green eyes and the glint of wildness buried in their depth.
And then her mouth… So fucking perfect. To kiss... And fuck... And kiss again.
I lick my lips while getting hard.
“She’s too much of a headache,” I say. “And I’m seriously not interested. No matter what you say, she’s not that important,” I murmur, my words in stark disagreement with my thoughts and the bulge between my legs.
“That’s good to know. If she’s not the problem, what bothers you then? Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, I’m not. I started this shit. Why the fuck would I have second thoughts?”
I don’t expect him to answer my question.
His eyes linger on my face.
“Okay,” he says, still suspicious of my intentions.
He drinks the last drops of alcohol, tosses his glass on the table, and pushes his chair back.
Standing, he pats me on my back.
“Sooner or later, you’ll get between her legs,” he says, a smile woven in his voice.
“Go fuck yourself, motherfucker,” I rasp, chuckling bitterly.
I crush my empty pack of cigarettes, make it into a ball, and throw it at him.
He ducks out of the way and lifts his middle finger in response before making a beeline to his room.