3. Curses
Cassius
I cursed as I headed to my bedroom.
I’d made a fool of myself. Chasing the girl from the club, following her down the drive, chauffeuring her back to Boston… Not to mention having my concierge hustle over to Copley Place to buy Faith a new wardrobe.
She ran out on me.
I ran after her.
And now she was down the hall—drinking my coffee, showering in my penthouse, wearing clothes I’d bought for her. She’d left me, and I was bending over backward to make her life easier.
Like I said, I was acting like a fool.
I didn’t want to be alone with Faith anymore, and I didn’t want to look at her wide, sad eyes. I cursed again as I stalked into my suite. How had I let my guard down like this? Why had I allowed this young woman to get completely under my skin?It wasn’t like me, and it wasn’t comfortable. I’d taken her virginity, yes. We had an explosive sexual chemistry—I’d never come so hard in my life. Her tight, virgin pussy had satisfied my darkest desires. But that was sex—Club 444 sex—and this was my real life.
So why did I feel like it was coming unraveled?
I headed straight for my shower because if I didn’t, I’d go back to her. I would take her again. I knew I would beg—I just wanted to be inside her again, to feel her spasm around me, gripping my cock for all she was worth. I wanted to hear her scream as she shattered, shaking around me, engulfing me as she came all over my cock.
Fuck, Cass. Enough.I had another raging hard-on, and there was no relief in sight.
I stripped out of last night’s tuxedo, the remnants of her perfume washing over me. Her V necklace was still inside the pocket; I took it out and briefly fingered it. Faith was a virgin no more. I’d seen to that.
Fuck! I couldn’t get her out of my head.Everything about the girl called to me. I stepped under the hot water, relieved to wash off our encounter. Still, I could feel Faith’s hands on me. She was right down the hall. All I had to do was call to her; perhaps she would join me for one more illicit encounter…
No.I needed to stay strong. Faith had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. She’d run out in the dead of night. She was only at my penthouse because she had nowhere else to go.
I’d been used before. I’d learned my lesson; I would keep my distance.
Still, I’d never wanted anyone the way I craved Faith. It reminded me of my first sexual relationship, which had devastated me. I was obsessed with the slightly older, experienced Anya. She was our nanny. Once I turned eighteen—right after my parents died—she became my first.
At the time, I was too inexperienced to know she was taking advantage of me. I thought we were in love. But I soon discovered that my hot Russian nanny was only interested in the Blackwood family fortune. She’d been my teacher in bed, and I’d been an excellent student. But once I discovered her true nature, Anya was immediately expelled from my life and family.
I was smart—I only had to learn that lesson once. I never let another relationship progress to the point where someone could manipulate me. That was why I’d opened the club. I preferred controlling my relationships with clear parameters of give and take. Never again would I be exposed or taken advantage of. Anya had humiliated me, and I vowed it would be the last time. I was a firm believer in keeping the promises I made myself.
As the water washed over me, a troublesome question popped into my head. If that’s the case, why did you chase after Faith?
I didn’t have an answer for that. Luckily, my phone buzzed, so I didn’t have to think about it. I climbed out of the shower and found a message from Gina. Please call me. Urgent.
I wrapped a towel around myself and called the Madam.
She picked up after the first ring. “Mr. Blackwood, thank you for responding so quickly,” she said breathlessly. “The security guard said that you’d left the premises with Faith. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Gina.” I removed Faith’s note so that no one knew she’d quit. “Faith needed to see her brother, so I’m making arrangements for her.”
“Do you have her phone?” Gina asked.
“Yes, it’s here.”
“Are there…” She hesitated. “Are there any other instructions?”
“Not at this time. Please tell my brothers that I had business to attend to in the city but that I’ll be back soon,” I said and hung up.
I dressed quickly, lost in my thoughts. I knew what I was doing was wrong. It was against club rules to have contact like this with one of the employees. I’d exercised my platinum-level rights to Faith; we’d had our three encounters. I’d taken her virginity. She was no longer mine.
But as I was the club’s owner and everyone—including Faith, my brothers, and the Madam—worked for me, it was none of their fucking business. Gina was curious about what was happening between Faith and me. Other patrons wanted to be with her. The truth was, I had no idea what Faith would do. Her note said she wanted to quit. I was most likely returning to 444 Hawthorne Drive alone.
There was a knock on the door, and I cursed again. “What is it?”
“Sir?” Faith opened the door. She’d showered and changed and was wearing a simple gray sheath that was both sophisticated and sexy. But her pretty face was twisted into a frown. “There’s been a problem at the center. Can we go now? Or I can call a cab?—”
“Give me one minute,” I ordered.
For better or worse, I wanted to take her myself.
* * *
My Bentley wasready and waiting as we exited The Stratum five minutes later. Faith was tense and shaky as she fastened her seat belt. I pulled into the light traffic, grateful that GPS indicated a quick, easy drive to Brookline Avenue. “What happened?” I asked.
She took a deep breath. “The case manager called me. There was an incident this morning.”
“What kind of incident?”
Faith shook her head. “Nothing I want to talk about. My brother’s okay. It’s nothing about his health. Well, maybe it’s about his mental health—I don’t know.”
“Could you be more specific?” I asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Faith admitted. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me,” I said. “Don’t you remember what we did last night?”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “Of course I do.”
“Then you can tell me what’s happening,” I insisted. “I’m not going to judge you.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “My mother showed up at the treatment center this morning. She was demanding to find out how Lucas’s bill was paid. She caused an uproar, I guess.”
Faith’s scowl deepened. “She’s camped out in the waiting room, demanding to know how we paid the bill.”
I knew little of Faith’s background, only that her mother was mainly out of the picture and that Faith had cared for her brother alone for a long time. “Why would she do that?” I asked.
“My mother only cares about one thing—herself. So I don’t know why she’s doing this, but I do know it’s got something to do with helping herself. It’s definitely not about Lucas,” she said bitterly.
I nodded. “We’ll handle it,” I assured her.
Faith glanced at me. Her cheeks were still red; she looked miserable. “You don’t have to help me. You’ve already done enough. Lucas would be out on the street if it weren’t for my signing bonus.”
“You earned it.” An image of Faith beneath me, writhing in ecstasy, flashed in my mind. “And I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling your mother,” I added.
“Ha,” she said, but she didn’t sound amused. “I don’t know about that. She’s… something else.”
We arrived at the Longwood Medical Area, where the treatment center was, and pulled into the adjacent parking garage. Faith hopped out of the car immediately, nervously smoothing her dress. “I shouldn’t have worn this,” she said.
“It suits you,” I offered, confused at her assessment. “What’s wrong with your outfit?”
Faith scowled. “It’s too nice. My mother will be all over it.”
“I don’t understand.”
Faith started hustling to the garage’s exit. “You will in a minute.”
She abruptly stopped. “Actually, would you consider waiting in the car?” Faith didn’t sound too hopeful.
“No,” I said immediately. I sensed that although Faith could handle herself, the impending meeting with her mother had her rattled.
She nodded. “I didn’t think so. But let me deal with this, okay? I don’t want you on her radar.”
Intrigued, I followed Faith out of the garage and onto the bustling sidewalk of the Longwood Medical Area. Boston had a reputation for having the finest doctors and healthcare in the world. I was glad that Faith’s brother was being cared for in such a cutting-edge environment.
We headed inside the treatment center, and Faith checked in at the front desk. I was impressed by how she handled herself. She was so young, and she’d had a tumultuous few days at the club. But Faith was polite, firm, and self-assured as she interacted with the center’s staff.
That is until she turned around. She peered past me to a woman sitting in the lobby. The waif-thin, reedy woman was glaring at Faith, the many wrinkles in her face creasing with displeasure. She had long, stringy, unnaturally orange hair, eyes lined heavily with black eyeliner, and thin lips puckered into a scowl. She wore a black Boston Bruins T-shirt and Capri jeans.
“You gotta lotta nerve showing up here,” the woman growled. Her voice sounded like a carton of cigarettes.
Faith’s face fell.
And although they looked nothing alike, that’s when I knew the woman was her mother.