Chapter 10
MAE
“You’re quite the sleeping beauty.”
Sitting up in a room not my own, I take in the glorious sight of Damon dressed in a white tee that shows off the intricate monochromatic ink on both arms. The last I saw of him before my eyes closed was his naked silhouette standing at the balcony door, the sheer white curtains dancing around his formidable body as he looked out across the ominous ocean.
Now, before me at the foot of the bed, he looks nothing like a man who’s been up all night fucking.
As if reading my mind, his lips turn into a delicious smile. “Rest well?”
“Like the dead.” My muscles scream the straighter I attempt to sit.
“There’s some water and Advil on the bedside table,” he says after noticing my wince.
Heat colors my cheeks, triggered by a series of particularly inappropriate flashbacks. “What time is it?”
“Going on midday.”
I swallow the panic rising in the pit of my stomach. “Don’t you sleep?”
“I do when I’m tired.” His sky-blue irises glimmer with a wickedness I’m becoming accustomed to. “But I’ve still got some energy to burn.” Before I can even entertain the pang between my legs, the moment is lost when the playfulness dims from his eyes and is replaced with immediate regret. Suddenly, we find ourselves back to business, which neither of us is particularly fond of discussing. Reaching into his back pocket, Damon tosses my cell on the bed. “Make the call.” While it’s a soft command, there’s no room for refusal.
“To who?”
“Picasso.” The dry reply is accompanied by his lips turning a fraction. “Call your husband, Mae.”
I stare at the phone unable to bring myself to touch it. “And what am I to say?”
“That you won’t be home for five days.”
“ Five days!” Has he lost his damn mind? “No, I can’t stay, Damon. I shouldn’t even be here now.”
“I’m afraid there’s little choice in the matter.”
Or else what?
“You’re not hearing me. I have to get home. I can’t stay.”
For his own reasons, the man standing before me detests Peter with every fiber of his being, but it’s no match for how much my husband hates me.
“You’re safe here, Mae.”
My tears burn, equal parts out of anger and because I’m terrified of how life will be in five days’ time. “ Here is not where I’m concerned about, Damon. You should have just finished with me and left. Left me at my home. In my bed.”
Unimpressed, his brows raise. “ Finished with you?”
“Yes.” I pull the blanket tighter around my body, but not before catching the discoloration of fresh bruising around my breasts. No doubt it’s the same between my legs, only to worsen as the days change. “You came and got what you wanted, and you should have left when done.” It sounds crass even to my ears, and judging by the fury in Damon’s eyes, he doesn’t appreciate my take on the matter.
“You know very well why I didn’t leave you behind.”
“Why? Because of what I confided in you? Damon…” I laugh for fear of losing my mind, “… that doesn’t come anywhere close to what will be waiting for me when I return. You think you’ve done me a favor when in fact—”
“ What, Mae?” He steps around the bed. “What have I done? ”
I angrily swipe at my damp cheek. “It doesn’t matter because in five days when the contract is signed, I won’t be your problem anymore.”
“You’re not here on the condition he signs.”
“ You said there’s little choice in me leaving. So, if I can’t leave on my own accord, does that make me your prisoner?”
He shrugs as if confiscating my phone and keeping me in a locked estate isn’t out of the ordinary. “I prefer to call you my guest.”
Holding his unwavering stare, I’m forced to accept defeat. If I can’t negotiate my freedom from someone who claims to have my back, I’m out of luck when it comes to navigating my husband. “Peter’s not going to believe a word I say.”
“Then be convincing.” Even as Damon says it, he at least sounds affected by my plight. “Tell him something he will believe.”
Pulling the blanket away from my naked body, I follow his wandering gaze, studying the trails of discoloration, bruises, and bite marks forming a constellation over my pale skin. My one wrist from the cuffs is still raw, and it’s all he can seem to focus on. I wonder about the lucky tie. Is it still partially tied to the bed? Or was it left abandoned in amongst the tangled sheets?
With a finger under my chin, he tilts my face until our eyes meet, his thumb caressing my cheek in a moment of stolen affection.
“Make the call,” he murmurs. I hesitate, my tense grip on the blanket growing painful. “It’s not a suggestion, Mae.”
Damon hands me the phone, and I unlock the screen, tap Peter’s name in the Recents list, and hold it to my ear.
“Speaker,” comes the quiet command.
Setting it down on the bed, we listen to the rings. Four, five… eight times. Just when I think the call will end, it cuts to a gravelly voice. “Yeah?”
“It’s me.”
“I just walked through the door. Where are you? Are you calling from upstairs?”
“No, I’m out at the moment. How was your night?”
I hear the sound of shoes being thrown onto the rack. “Fuck, to be honest, I can barely remember. Everything past midnight is a blur.”
Beside me, Damon remains, arms folded, his thumb grazing his bottom lip that hides a knowing smile.
“Why, what happened?”
There’s a heavy exhale right into the speaker. “I was drinking with Jason at their place. Then he had the security fella take us to some bar. It wasn’t the type of place I ever expected Jason to step foot in, but anyway.” Peter’s cough is followed by a miserable groan. “He ordered a bottle of vodka for him and scotch for me, and he just started downing each drink like it was water. It was fucking crazy.”
Damon’s evident amusement reveals the truth of Peter’s story.
“The last I saw of him, he was chatting to some women, and that’s all I can remember. I have no idea where he ended up.”
“And what about you?”
He snorts a laugh. “I woke in a park fuck knows where. I have no idea how I got there or what happened with the women.” After a few moments of realizing what he said, Peter adds, “I suppose they ended up going back with Jason.”
Damon pinches the bridge of his nose, exasperated by Peter’s apparent ease at lying.
Am I any better?
“Anyway. I don’t see you here.”
My heart pounds, and my palms sweat. “That’s why I’m calling. I’ve actually gone away for a few days. Maybe for a week.”
The silence that follows could easily be the signing of my death warrant .
“Peter?”
“I heard you.” There’s another long delay, and panic seizes my chest as he sets the tone for a volatile conversation to come. “Where the hell have you gone?”
“Allyson’s beach house.”
I listen to his deep exhale, imagining him pacing in irritation. “Why?”
“I just needed a break from everything to work on my collection, and I wanted to give you a chance to focus on working things through with the Shaws.”
“Don’t feed me your bullshit, Mae. I made it real loud and clear what I thought of you taking on this exhibit. But you continue with it as if you’re not lining yourself up for humiliation.”
“Peter, I’m here because I’m hoping inspiration will strike for my final piece.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you’re hoping for. I want you home by the end of the goddamn day.”
I make the mistake of glancing up at Damon. By the look of him, he could easily end someone’s life, and I take heart knowing that person might just be Peter.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t—”
“ Listen to me. I know what you’re doing, Mae.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Oh, yes, you are. You think I don’t know that you fucked off the moment I left the house?”
He’s not entirely wrong. Had Damon not arrived last night, I would have made my escape and disappeared into the darkness like a shadow.
“It’s not like that,” I say with imminent defeat. “I just didn’t want to interrupt your night with Jason. I’m sorry.”
“ Are you?”
No. “Yes.” Pursing my lips, I resist the urge to say, ‘Go fuck yourself.’ Given the chance, no three words will ever be spoken with as much conviction. But the reality is, once Damon no longer requires my services and I’m back at the mercy of my husband, I need to make the transition as survivable as possible. “If you can just give me these five days, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Like fuck you will.” Damon’s deep voice reverberates through to my soul, a murmur powerful enough to wage a war and take victory. Our eyes meet—his like a raging sea—and for a palpable moment, I find myself easily being able to drown in them. He consumes everything—the room, the conversation, the air I breathe, me . There is no escaping his incredibly clear, incontestable warning.
“And how do you plan on doing that, honey?” Peter is back at it, determined to win more rounds. “You think I can get you on the bed with your legs spread without so much as a struggle? Or do you want to try and gouge out my right eye this time?”
“Things will be different, I promise.”
“Yeah, they will be. I’ve given you two free passes already. The next time, I won’t waste a second of you being cuffed to the bed. Understand?”
I hate you. I hate you so damn much.
“Jesus, Mae. Do you fucking understand what I’m saying?”
This time, I don’t make the mistake of looking up at Damon. However, the searing heat of his stare will continue to be felt long after this conversation ends. “ Yes . I hear you.”
Happy to tally my indiscretion and pocket yet another apology, Peter takes it down a notch. This, however, this is a long way from over. As soon as this call ends, he’ll be out searching for me. And when he goes home empty-handed, he’ll be lying in bed tonight staring up at the ceiling and thinking of all the ways he could make me wish I was dead.
“Peter…”
“What?”
“Have you given any more thought to the contract?”
Down the line, the refrigerator door slams closed, all the glass bottles on the shelf rattling. Then I hear it, as does Damon. It’s a sound I know all too well. A laugh, that’s barely above a whisper, one that can ride on the wind and straight into my nightmares.
Then he ends the call.
“What the fuck was that?” Damon asks, not alarmed but slightly more wide-eyed than before.
Turning off the phone, I consider finding something to smash it with. “It means Peter’s coming for me.”
“And you know this because he’s hunted you down before?”
I nod, and for a long moment—one filled with dread—I wait for Damon to say something. Anything.
When he finally breaks his silence, I’m lulled back to the relative safety of the gentleness with which he asks, “Has he always threatened you like that?”
“Only if he’s in a good mood.”
“And when he’s not?”
“Then... Peter delivers good on his promise.”
Being in Damon’s warpath is truly frightening, yet it seems he, at the very least, wants to shield me from the bloodshed. “Why weren’t you honest with me about the cuff?”
I toy with the corner of the blanket, determining how best to reply. “Because it will only raise more questions that I’m just not ready to answer.”
Damon takes my hand in his and draws it to his lips—a kiss in the form of comradery. “I know there’s a great deal you’re not inclined to tell me, but know that Peter won’t get away with hurting you. I’ll personally see to it that he reaps what he sows.”
After being isolated in this fight for so long, it’s hard to believe that anyone would want to help. “You’d do that for me?”
“You have my word.”
I dread the next question, but I need to know if his allegiance is conditional. “And if he doesn’t sign?”
“He will.”
It’s like we heard two very different people on the phone. “Perhaps if you gave him more information—”
“I can’t do that.”
“I know him, Damon. He needs more to work with to establish trust.”
“We’ve given him no reason to not trust us.”
Every wickedly sinful way in which this man has taken me would beg to differ, and when I laugh,
Damon’s gorgeous smile alights his handsome face.
“Fair point. No reason that he knows of.” His gaze falters, and emotion stirs within me. In us . “I’ll run you a bath.”
Watching as he disappears into the bathroom, I’m left to contemplate the road ahead.
There’s no denying that every moment Damon Shaw spends with me, distracted, the more he loses sight of his objective. With Jason and Peter breathing down my neck, I simply don’t know who the lesser of two evils is.
Damon returns and, without saying a word, scoops me into his arms and carries me into the bathroom. Lowering me onto the warm tiles, he pulls away the blanket. I’m exposed, disheveled, and self-conscious. Even worse, I smell of sex and sweat.
Amused by my futile efforts to cover myself, Damon’s hard chest meets my back, his lips and stubble teasing my cheek. I close my eyes, losing myself in the intimacy because it’s beyond tempting to lean into him.
“I’ve licked, bit, and sucked every inch of you.” His murmur is a low, delightful growl. “I’ve tongue fucked your tight little asshole and licked you clean after you’ve come. I’ve fucked you endlessly until your sweet pussy became swollen and raw. Then I fucked you some more.” He kisses my tender neck, and I shiver. “So, don’t hide yourself from me now, sweetheart.”
“When you say it out loud, it—”
“It what? Makes it real?” Damon circles a finger over my sensitive clit. It forces a gasp, and I jolt with shock, involuntarily but not disappointingly so, backing me into his hard cock. “Because it was as real as this is now. So, get in the bath, Mae, before I lose all control and repeat every damn thing I love doing to you.”
He means every sordid word, and I want what he’s promising. Instead, I accept the offered hand, and he helps me into the claw-foot bathtub.
The hot, soapy water packs a brutal punch down below, my agonized cry seeing me grip the tub’s edge until my knuckles turn white. Everything either stings, aches, or throbs.
Damon submerges a cloth beneath the suds, and I find it being the distraction I need. When he rings it out, the veins in his hands and forearms dance masterfully in sync. From there, I search the intricacies of the tattoo design and how the images seem to come to life when he moves.
“Something on your mind?” With a knowing smile, he watches me watching him.
“Does everybody just do what you say?”
To this, he doesn’t hide his amusement. “Not always.”
“What happens to those who don’t?”
Damon gathers my loose hair and twists it around his fist, pulling tight enough to elicit my gasp. As his lips graze mine, eager for his kiss, my eyes flutter closed. “Why do you ask, sweetheart?”
“Curiosity.”
“Mm…” The rumble reverberates through me, my nipples hardening, and that familiar pulse between my legs quickens. “That’s a dangerous path to travel on.”
“Because of you?”
“ Especially because of me.”
~
DAMON
“Breakfast in ten.”
It’s been almost an entire day of torture since walking out on Mae in the bathtub, her cheeks flushed with desire. After almost giving in and going for round three, I’ve forced myself to keep my distance. Now, as beautiful as ever, having caught up on her rest, she’s in bed awake and half propped up to admire the view beyond the balcony doors. Wearing the black silk nightgown I’d laid out before I left, she looks every bit the goddess, and when she turns to face me with those fawn irises and pink lips, my grip on the door handle turns white-knuckled. If I cross this threshold, there are no promises the love marks on her beautiful skin will fade in time for the contract signing.
“I don’t have any clothes with me.”
“You’ll find all you need in the closet. Underwear’s optional.” Her sweet lips part. “Ten minutes,” I reiterate before closing the door.
Fucking hell.
This might be harder than anticipated.
I make my way down the stairs and out to the poolside table, the burning sun hitting my skin as I pass Jason reading his newspaper under the shade. “Mae’s joining us for breakfast.”
He doesn’t look up. “What the fuck for?”
“Because she’s a guest in our house.”
Hearing the frustration in his sigh and the sudden irritated flick of a page, I smile, then strip off my cotton shirt and dive into the pool. The cold water does little to ease my throbbing cock, the memory of Mae in the bath yesterday and how she longed to take things further than just a kiss torments me with each lap of the pool. When I finally emerge, she’s walking down the stone steps toward us, looking striking in the teal dress chosen from the wardrobe. Thin straps expose her marked shoulders, and with her hair neatly tied up, her neck tells the story of all the times I bit and sucked her into orgasm. And don’t even get me started on her breasts, exposed just enough to reveal that they, too, did not emerge unscathed.
I wonder if she found the underwear drawer. And if she did, which pair did she choose that I could possibly be tearing off later?
Knowing my every filthy thought, she keeps her pretty eyes locked on mine while I towel dry. Her chest rises and falls heavier than it did moments ago, and when I wink, she blushes a furious shade of red.
“Right on time.” I gesture for her to sit opposite me while I take a seat beside my brother. Out of arm’s reach from us should have her feeling more at ease. Jason, however, isn’t as hospitable.
“Fuck me,” he mutters, staring at the visible markings on her beautiful skin. I do have to agree with him. The bruising is far worse today than it was the night she arrived, and it’s fueling his resentment. Nostrils flaring, he focuses back on the plate of sliced fruit, his teeth grating over the metal fork. If anyone else were to make that noise in his misophonic presence, he’d be tempted to put a bullet through their skull.
“Eat,” I instruct Mae, gesturing to the platters, but she’s anxious and uncomfortable dining with two men she no doubt thinks are contemplating what fresh hell to wreak next in her life.
Without touching the food, Mae silently pleads with me. She wants to leave. She wants to make a hasty retreat back to the room, but I refuse to allow her to continue being the vulnerable woman Peter has shaped her into. So, I scoop a mix of berries and watermelon onto her plate, not once breaking eye contact.
Seeing it play out before him, Jason sends his fork clattering on his plate, the sudden noise startling Mae back into the far reaches of her seat. He stares at her with utter disdain, but his words are for me. “Get this shit back on track.”
“It’s not off track,” I reply curtly, popping a raspberry in my mouth. “Mae knows exactly what to do, don’t you?”
Looking between us and the predicament she’s in, Mae’s clipped tone sees her reentering the fight ring. “I’ll do my very best.” Her attention settles on Jason and deciding to go straight for the jugular, she takes a whole green apple, draws it up to her luscious lips, and takes a slow, crunchy bite. My grin grows wider with each passing second, knowing just how the intrusive sound will be short-circuiting my brother.
Mae Ellison is a damn quick study and a woman after my own heart.
“Is this some sick joke?” Jason says, grinding his teeth. I don’t know who the question is directed to, but Mae takes the reins.
“What’s sick is you thinking Peter will sign a contract for a project clearly no one else is brave enough to do.”
Accepting the challenge, Jason leans back in his chair, places an ankle over his knee. “Please, tell us what you really think.”
She bristles at the patronizing tone but stands firm. “I think you’re scared.”
“Is that so? Enlighten me.”
“For starters, you seem to believe Peter is too stupid to give considerate thought to such an offer. You think he will sign purely out of greed.”
“Actually…” Jason says, tapping his finger on the armrest, “… stupid is defending a man who always seems like he’s a beat away from murdering his wife.”
Fucking hell. “That’s enough,” I warn, knowing he’ll listen. Mae, on the other hand, despite being visibly upset, seems to have made herself available for a fight.
“No, Damon, let him speak,” she says, daring me to step aside. “There’s nothing Jason can say that will even remotely come close to what my husband has said and done. So, let me make this clear to you both, I don’t give a shit what happens to him. I care for the well-being of myself and how you’ve given me the impossible task of convincing an asshole to sign his life away.”
“No one is signing their life away,” I say, hoping to placate the situation. “The prince has a lot of enemies and business rivals. It’s in his best interest to keep his projects under wrap until all building approvals have been met.”
Mae turns to me, those fawn eyes looking more like a blazing fire. “Then you must think I’m the stupid one. Because none of this…” she indicates to the marks covering her body, “… would have happened over a simple building approval. And while Peter doesn’t know about any of this , he knows when something isn’t adding up. Especially if his career and life are at risk when something goes wrong, and by the sound of it, there’s an incredibly high chance of that happening.”
“So, correct me if I’m wrong,” I challenge, enjoying this feisty side of her. “Yesterday, you were rather insistent you’ll tell him to sign.”
“And I will.”
“Gotta say, sweetheart, you don’t sound too reassuring.”
“Because you’re backing me into a corner, dishing me lines I have to feed him. I’m simply telling you the reality of it. That if he decides not to sign on, it’s not any fault of my own. He’s clever enough to figure it out himself if something isn’t adding up. Which is why I begged you to remove me from any obligation.”
I hold her gaze for a long moment, and while she doesn’t appear to be backing down, there’s an evident crack in Mae’s resolve, and that’s her trembling hand when she nervously tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
Jason’s ice-cold voice cuts through the silence. “I’m surprised to hear you speak so highly of your husband.”
She turns her scold to my brother. “Then perhaps Damon can fill you in. Perhaps you should be paying more attention.”
“You seem to conveniently forget that I paid considerable attention that night I found you fucking my brother.”
For fuck’s sake.
“You wanna know my favorite part?” Jason continues, interlacing his fingers. “Without a doubt, it has to be when you were begging for more and then when you came over a cock that wasn’t your husband’s.”
She’s simmering with a rage I didn’t know she was capable of. Going up against my challenging brother, however, is signing a death warrant.
“And I have it all on video if you want to dispute my observations.”
I should be putting an end to this, but her reaction is so visceral, it’s hard to look away. “That’s not fair!”
“Of course it is.” Jason shrugs, indifferent to the damage he’s doing. “You control how your body reacts, and, in this scenario, your body reacted the way it should when it’s enjoying being fucked. But I have to ask, does Peter give you the same response? Does he make you come as hard… or at all?”
“Make your point, brother…” I warn, “… and be done with it.”
“Since we’re being honest with one another, I want to know what you think Peter will do to you if he finds out you strayed?”
While I’m not the one leading this crusade, I’m guilty of holding her hostage, of blackmail, and as it would seem, a breakfast ambush. As such, when she looks at me dead on, it’s evident she definitely believes I’ve deceived her.
“You heard the phone call, Damon. You have a fair idea what will happen to me upon my return from whatever this is supposed to be.” I frown at the pain in her voice because it almost sounds like defeat. “No matter which way I turn, no matter who I pledge my allegiance to, there are three of you against one in this hunt. I guess the question you all need to ask yourself is who’s going to get to me first?” She smiles, but it’s almost void of life. “Now, if you didn’t guess my husband as the prospective victor, then I’m sorry to say you’re wrong.”
Fucking. Hell.
Whatever that cunt has done to her, he’s fucked her up so bad that all she sees and feels is his wrath—past, present, and future.
Mae, however, is ready to prove that while battle-weary, there’s still some fight left when it comes to the Shaw brothers. “What awaits me when I no longer serve your purpose is far worse than any threat either of you can imagine. So, please, go ahead and do your worst.” She turns to me with a pointed accusation. “Keep fucking me over or fucking me until you both realize the error was in your planning all along.”
“You’re wrong,” I say, unable to help myself. I don’t give a fuck how Jason perceives the interaction.
“Am I?” She almost finds it humorous. “This is what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it? To have me bend to your will. To fuck me into submission.”
There’s no denying it. Hearing the words from her lips stirs my cock.
“And evidently…” Jason replies flatly, “… he hasn’t been overly successful at it because your lack of basic cooperation is grating on my last nerve.”
Ignoring the barb, Mae’s warring eyes remain locked on mine, searching for a hint of truth amongst the lies, but mostly eager to find the man I am when we’re alone.
“Perhaps…” my brother continues, his voice interrupting our moment. “All this hostility could be put behind us if you both just sign.”
“And I told you, I want nothing to do with it. The problem is yours alone because no other engineer has said yes to your proposal. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“Actually,” Jason corrects. “We haven’t presented the proposal to any other engineer.”
It takes a long moment for that admission to register, but when it does, I wouldn’t put it past her to hurl a fork across the table straight into his eye. “So, find someone who doesn’t need convincing. Find literally anyone else but Peter.”
Jason tuts. “It doesn’t work that way, Mae.”
It’s time I take back the reins because my brother never learned the art of tact. “We chose Peter for a couple of reasons. One, we can all agree that he’s greedy and self-serving. Dangle a carrot in front of him, even if it comes with strings attached, and watch him reconsider his stance on what is and isn’t morally or ethically correct.”
Mae doesn’t debate the observation because she knows better than any of us how true it is. “And?”
I take a second, memorizing every striking detail of her exquisite face because, in a moment, everything will change between us. “You were everything we needed the engineer’s wife to be. So, one could say, we handpicked him and you.”
Mae doesn’t look away, but she’s suddenly breathless, tears preparing to spill just for me. “In other words, you needed a wife you’d want to fuck?”
I’ve just destroyed the last remaining tether of trust, and no matter what I say from here on out to make it better, I’m now the enemy. “The simple answer is yes, but it’s become far more complex than that.”
“How reassuring.” Mae’s bottom lip trembles, and it’s like taking a spear to the heart. Her protective walls have shot up, now considering me in the same light as her husband. A predator. A sociopath. “For how long have we… I … been on your radar?”
I debate ending the exchange because nothing good will come from the truth, but her silent pleas are impossible to ignore. “Six months.”
Watching the words from my mouth form a sucker punch, has me questioning every decision I’ve made in getting us to this point.
“Your husband…” I add, “… practically handed us a gold platter of transgressions.”
Her strained whisper holds back a wave of emotion. “And me?”
“Pristine.”
Blinded by the suspected duplicity of every single moment we’ve shared, she stands, the cast-iron chair toppling over. Despite the noise that seems to throw an echo over the mountain, Mae doesn’t flinch or even notice. Unseeing, she sways on her feet, barely registering my approach.
Four words fall almost silently from her mouth the moment I catch her in my arms.
Four words I despise the sound of.
“I’ll never forgive you.”
~
The breeze acts as my accomplice, blowing her dress high up on her thighs. Every time I complete a lap of the pool, I get to see more and more of those creamy legs I so love to sink in between.
The caw of an eagle flying above sees Mae stir, her eyes fluttering open as she stares blankly into the blue sky. Swimming to the pool’s edge closest to her, I fold my arms over the warm pavers. Her pretty eyes land on mine, and I see she’s torn between disgust, fury, and something else. Something less formidable.
“You could have caused yourself significant injury back there.”
She pulls the dress back over her legs, denying me a view. “I’m done fighting you, Damon. You’d be doing me a favor if you just called this for what it is.”
“What is it exactly?”
An indifferent Mae is not what I want. Defeat shouldn’t be a part of her vocabulary.
“I don’t blame you,” she says. “Finding my weakness and playing on it is just business. I can choose to believe what you say if it heals a part of me someone else has broken, or I can face reality and perhaps survive you both in time.”
“I’ve never once lied to you, Mae.”
“Is omission considered a tale?”
“Not if it’s to protect you.”
“And who exactly are you protecting me from? Yourself?”
Yes. “Perhaps.”
That isn’t the answer she was hoping for, and it simply adds another row of bricks to the wall she’ll soon hide behind. “Well, thank you for your honesty.”
It’s an emotionless response, void of anything that makes her, her.
If I’m to facilitate this demise, I’ll simply watch Mae retreat, her apathy making matters of the contract easier. Or, I drag her back to the frontline where we wage war against one common enemy, then, in my bed where we celebrate our win. The latter is preferred. However, before we get to that point, I need to reignite the fire in her eyes. “So, tell me, when are you going to start being honest with yourself ?”
The provocation has the desired effect, but as Mae’s breath hitches and her lips part, she remains silent.
“When will you admit that, in this case, business and pleasure have mixed? Lines have blurred, and we both have to navigate this new road we’re traveling on.”
“This isn’t some Venn diagram, Damon. This is my life, or what’s left of it, and you’re purposefully setting off timely bombs in order to tick some boxes before your big payday. There is nothing between us except your manipulation and my stupidity.”
“See, that’s you in denial.”
“Well, forgive me for thinking otherwise. You weren’t exactly coming in strong to my defense at the breakfast table.”
“For good reason.”
It’s as if she didn’t expect me to agree, and she falters in forming a reply. “And that is?”
“Because I’ve seen firsthand how you prepare yourself for battle, Mae. You have it in you to fight tooth and nail just like you do with Jason and me, but as soon as that fucker of a husband opens his goddamn mouth, you surrender to him.”
“It isn’t surrendering , Damon,” she implores. “It’s about surviving to see another day.”
Without even realizing it, my hands have balled into clenched fists. “What is he holding over you?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what does he do to you, Mae? How has that piece of shit made you so frightened you can barely look me in the eye whenever I ask?”
Her chin wobbles, and I expect her to get up and run any minute now. “Why are you persisting—”
“Because I care enough about you to want to help.” Mae flinches at what she deems to be untrue. “Because you’ve hinted at what happens behind closed doors, but I can see it written across your face that you’re only offering the bare minimum of information. That you’re only just scratching the surface because you can’t bring yourself to admit what he does to you.”
If I took a shot at what it could be, I might just hit the target, but I need details and specifics. I want to know what gets him off when he decides to hurt the woman he married. I want full, unconditional access to that part of her life I couldn’t reach.
She blinks, tears spilling over her flushed cheeks.
Fucking hell.
I’d sell my damn soul to bring this girl back from the living dead.
“Your refusal to speak against him, Mae, gives Peter more power to do what he does.”
There’s a spark… a flicker of anger I’ll continue flaming. “ So that makes me an enabler?”
“Fuck, no. Sweetheart, you’re a good person stuck in a shitty situation. You’re kind and selfless, and he feeds off that because your best attributes can be used as a weapon. It doesn’t make you an enabler, it makes you an abuser’s wet dream.”
Mae wipes her chin where the tears have pooled. “Is this your attempt at a teachable moment?”
“Just an observer’s perspective.”
“And how would you observe your own behavior?”
I offer a nonchalant shrug. “Charming. Fair. A little domineering.”
The weight of Peter lifts off her slender shoulders, and when she laughs, it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “A little ?”
I fail at hiding my own smile. “You think otherwise?”
“I definitely think your scale is broken on that one.”
Seeing this side of Mae again does things to me. It has me craving more. “And charming?”
The fire in her eyes may have gone out because we’re no longer discussing him, but right now, with just me and our banter, she looks more alive than ever. “It’s why I’m in this predicament.”
“It’s only a predicament if you think of it that way.”
“What you mean to say is until you can charm me into thinking otherwise?”
It’s a challenge to wipe the grin off my face. “You know, sweetheart, I’m particularly fond of your feisty side, and I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t turn me on.” Pulling myself out of the pool, her lips part when she sees my rock-hard cock bulging in my shorts. I stand at her side, my shoulders blocking the sun. Water drips from my arm onto hers, and she doesn’t seem to mind. “But to answer your question, we could list all my behaviors, or I could show you again. Do you know which I prefer?”
Her breath hitches, a telltale sign that Mae, too, knows her preference. A few beats pass before she frowns and says, “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“After all you’ve done to me, the prying into my life, the coercion and blackmailing, what makes you think you’re any better than my husband?”
I lean onto the chaise lounge, and she’s forced to spread her legs for my knee. I inch closer, my hands on the armrests. “Perhaps I am no better, sweetheart.” My lips graze hers and shivers delighting her body feed my addiction. I kiss her beautiful mouth, inhaling her whimper. “I may have taken advantage of you in the beginning.” Kiss . “But at least from me…” kiss , “… you actually got something out of it.” Kiss .
She turns away from me as if I’ve burned her. “Your honesty makes you no better than him, and that’s why it hurts so damn much because I wanted so badly for it to be different.”
I stand, observing the drops of water that dripped from me onto her. I want to lick them off, especially the dampness between her legs, but it’s back to business when she makes to leave.
“Sit.”
Heeding the warning, Mae stops midmovement, then, wisely choosing to obey, she settles on the edge.
Unrolling a fresh towel, I dry myself while I talk. “Believe what you like about me, including what you heard at breakfast. It makes no difference. But to set the record straight, I was the same man then as I was when you sought safety in me. Who fucked you in my bed, in yours, and over the balcony railing.” She turns farther away from me in an attempt to hide her reddening cheeks. Too late. “And despite what you might think…” I continue, tossing the towel aside, “… it wasn’t all business. The moment you walked through the door at the dinner party, everything changed.” I step in front and, with a finger under her chin, I tilt Mae’s tearful face to meet mine, once again detesting the words coming out of my mouth. “But make no mistake, there’s a task that needs completion, and unfortunately, for this week only, it takes priority.”
“I don’t want to be a part of this!”
“ And… ” I continue, ignoring her pleas, “… your pathetic husband, unless he’s choosing to hurt you, has a complete inability to think for himself. Get him to sign, and I’ll see to it that when you leave him, he’ll never find you again.”
What I omit is that her safety is not conditional. Whether he signs or not, to my dying day, I’ll ensure Mae can live her life without his abuse.
“And what about you?” She looks to me as if I’m high up on her enemy list. One also guilty of ultimate betrayal. “Could I ever outrun the formidable Damon Shaw?”
I catch her falling tear with my thumb and bring it to my mouth. “No, sweetheart. I’d never dream of making such a promise.”
~
MAE
“Have you come to issue more threats?”
Fresh from a shower of wanting to scald off the markings Damon callously left behind, I watch as he enters the room and places a large box on the wingback chair in the corner. Then, my heart races when he closes the space between us in easy, confident strides.
Amused, he notes my stony stare. “That depends on if you’ve done something to warrant more ‘threats. ’ ”
I square my shoulders, a move that has him ever so subtly raising a brow at my false bravado. “Your version and my version of warrant differ greatly.”
“Mm…” He purses his lips tight in contemplation, dragging his gaze over my silk robe-covered body. “My version is a hell of a lot more fun than yours.”
I loathe that he so easily makes me blush. And not just a soft, delicate pastel pink, but a furious burn which confesses to him just how much his suggestive words, knowing glances, and indecent touch affect me. “I’d like to be left alone, please.”
“I’m not done.” His hands snake through my wet hair, encouraging me to look up at him. “I didn’t come here to share this lovely exchange with you, but since we’ve found ourselves on this path, let’s play it out.”
We remain locked in a silent stand-off, but it’ll be me first to break because if I stand there breathing in his heady scent any longer, I may just forgive and forget his manipulative ways and the orchestrated chaos he’s inflicted upon my life. “You’ve played your card, Damon, and now I know exactly the kind of man you are.”
If he’s offended, he doesn’t show it. “And what’s that exactly?”
“A man with a talent for false narratives. For handpicking those easily impressed upon.”
“That’s quite the observation of me.”
“Am I wrong?” When all he offers is his silence, he leaves me to linger on the question to see if I will backtrack. “You don’t scare me, Damon.”
Something glints in his eyes. Something familiar and untamed that sends a shiver up my spine. “How am I trying to scare you?”
“Into submission.”
The curve of his lips is enough to pull me right back into his sordid web of lies once more. Ironically, it’s where I’d once felt safest. Now, it’s like I’m fighting a war alone, except this time, I have more enemies surrounding me, taking turns at shots. “Sweetheart, I don’t have to resort to scaring you into submission. That would simply be no fun for either of us.”
“That night of the dinner party, you caught me in a moment of weakness, that’s all. It won’t happen again, and I’m telling you now that I’d like to go home.”
“Home to where that moment of weakness turns into a lifetime? No, that’s not what you want.”
“It is.”
He finds this particularly funny. “Oh, I very much doubt that. You see, I’m a man who likes to fuck, Mae. More specifically, I’m a man who likes to fuck you . And something tells me you’re not entirely opposed to it. Even if to you, it signifies weakness .”
The ache between my legs confirms his theory, but I’m not at all interested in letting Damon have that for a win. Nor would I ever reveal I dream of him and everything he’s done to me. How I miss his touch, both tender and rough, and the taste of each kiss.
“What I’d give to know the thoughts running through that pretty head of yours.” Damon strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Though, I think I can guess.”
“You’d guess wrong.” I attempt to pull free, but he has other plans, his grip tightening in my damp hair.
He lowers his mouth to my ear, and I hate the way the rumble of his voice makes me feel. “I’m more than happy to extend your stay here, sweetheart. You’ve seen what I can do to you in four hours. Imagine how you’d fair when I have you strapped to the bed for days on end.” He kisses my trembling lips, tender but firm, offering just enough to bait me back onto his hook before feeding me to the sharks. “And I won’t regret a second of it. Not. One. Fucking. Bit .”
It takes a long, agonizing moment to recover, for me to open my eyes and escape the daze he puts me in each time with just a single kiss. My reality, however, lurks from the shadows in the room cast by the late afternoon sun.
“I have to go home, Damon. For every day I’m gone, Peter will—” I stop when my voice begins to quake. The anxiety gripping my stomach intensifies every minute I’m here, knowing my husband is either out searching for me or planning my demise once the contract is finalized. It would be a different story if I simply ran into the night and never looked back. But Peter will be expected to walk through the Shaws’ giant front door in three days’ time, and some way or another, I’ll be handed back over to meet my fate.
Placing a finger under my chin, Damon tilts my face to meet his, where I find those beautiful blue irises have darkened like a tumultuous sea. “That piece of shit takes all the fight out of you.”
“That’s not true,” I whisper.
“No? Then where do you go, Mae? Where do you hide the woman who happily engages in warfare with me but dies the second your husband hands you a sword?”
~
DAMON
“It’s so, so easy for you to stand there and pass judgment.” Mae shrugs away from me as if detesting my very touch. “But you have no idea.”
I loathe seeing her cry over him . Every single tear she sheds for the prick fuels my rage. “Then tell me how that bastard succeeds in ruining you every damn time, so much so that you can’t or don’t want to break free from him.”
“Jesus, Damon, you think I haven’t tried? This isn’t some love story tarnished simply by his bad temper. There’s no forgiving and forgetting, and there’s no escaping him no matter how hard I try.”
I debate divulging the following information, but with so many secrets between us, the pressure is mounting. So, I come clean. “Before I brought you here, my security found a tracker in the trunk of your car. I also scanned your cell and found stalkerware. If you had trouble with him finding you in the past, it’s because he could track you from the moment you set foot out the front door.” What’s truly fucking sickening is she barely bats an eyelash at the revelation. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“He’s always been steps ahead of me, no matter what I do, so I suspected as much.”
“And if you fight back?”
Wide eyed yet distant, she considers the gravity of my words. “Then it would be easier if I took the shovel and started digging my own grave.” Mae watches as I step away, slowly pacing while working through her every word. “You’re giving me whiplash, Damon,” she says as if trying to hold her composure. “First, you blackmail me into playing the part of the devoted wife in exchange for a signature. To forget any closed-door abuse and tease him into it, but don’t fuck him because my body now belongs to you, right? Then, you tell me I can’t possibly go back to my own home after you stole me away, knowing full well he’s hunting me down as we speak. Yet somehow, locked away in this castle, I’m still expected to have him sign the contract before the week’s out? Does that sound accurate?”
Sounds fairly spot on. What she doesn’t know is that the thought of Peter laying his hands on her in any way shape or form keeps me awake at night. Despite the instructions she’s been given, there’s not a chance in hell I’ll be sending Mae back to him. “For what it’s worth, I can see the dilemma.”
The sentiment comes too late.
I’m too late.
In a heartbeat, I’ve lost her. “Are we done here, Damon?”
She’s drifted back to that familiar dark place he’s carved out just for her. A place that would sink its claws into her soul if she dared to venture too deep. I want to pull her back and anchor her down. But with grim realization, I wonder if perhaps she needs to be dragged through hell first to come out the other side. Or maybe she’s already there, and hell refuses to let her go.
Wrapping my hand around her neck, I pull Mae close. She doesn’t protest, but her arms remain by her sides. “I’ve told you before, I won’t ever be done with you.”
Drawing her mouth to mine, I kiss Mae unapologetically, coaxing her soft lips open. She tastes like my own personal drug, and despite her wavering disdain toward me, our tongues dance together with the rhythm of a beautiful waltz. She’ll take it further if I lead us in that direction, but at this particular moment, her vulnerability is enough to push her over the edge.
When I pull away, Mae sways unsteadily. She’s exhausted, and it shows in her eyes and the slump of her petite shoulders. She’s losing weight, not that she had any extra to lose. Her collarbone, so elegantly defined, is now more prominent.
Feeling the burn of humiliation and perhaps her own betrayal, Mae turns toward the balcony door. The breeze blows her silken blonde hair over her shoulders, and she appears at peace from behind. Sadly, that’s far from the truth.
“I would like my phone back, and I want to go home.” While this isn’t the first time she’s said it, this occasion now packs a punch. “The longer I leave it, the worse it will be for me.”
“You leaving is out of the question.”
She swings around to face me. “But you don’t—”
“I said… out of the question .”
“I’m not your prisoner, Damon. You said it yourself.”
“No, you’re not because you’re free to roam the grounds and use the facilities as you choose.”
Knowing this is a battle she won’t win, her nostrils flare like she’s putting some serious consideration into hurting me. “But I can’t leave? What if I try?”
“You’ve met Marco at the gate, haven’t you? Impressive CV. Ex-Delta. He won’t discriminate just because you have a pretty pussy.”
There it is, a definite sign that she’s ready to savage me and not in the way I love to savage her. “That’s quite telling, isn’t it?”
I raise a brow. “How so?”
“That you need a trained killer at your gate. Afraid your criminal liaisons will come after you? Is having the Chief of Police on your side not enough? You need to station an ex-Delta out front?”
Sitting on the bed edge, I admire the woman before me for reasons she would never understand. “Beautiful and imaginative.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’ll leave the patronizing to your husband. I actually mean what I say, Mae. You should know that about me by now.”
To my surprise, her expression softens, and I’d go so far as to think she might actually believe me. But then she throws a dagger in my heart, her face a picture of unexpected defeat.
All this time, she’s been treading water, but now, in giving up the fight, she’s slowly sinking below the surface. When she whispers, sweet yet broken, I feel a piece of her is now lost forever. “You’ve won, Damon. I concede defeat. Even if you don’t admit it, I know what you’re doing with the contract isn’t ethical or moral, but you’re a formidable opponent.” She laughs, and unlike earlier, it’s now the saddest sound I’ve ever heard. “I can barely survive Peter. So, the reality is, I would never stand a chance against you.”
Mae closes her eyes, pushing a wave of tears through her long lashes. When she meets my gaze once more, she gives me her allegiance, albeit coerced. “I’ll do everything within my power to have Peter sign. But I can’t stay here, Damon. If I go home now, this contract might still have a chance, and so might I. Not only that, I’ve got some serious work to do for the collection. Just like the Dubai project is important to you, this exhibit is the one thing that keeps my head above water. So please, I can’t mess this up.”
The right thing to do would be to let her go.
But I can’t .
Because it’s not just about the traces of me left on Mae’s skin or knowing what Peter will do to her when she walks through the door.
I. Just. Can’t.
So, I retrieve the box I brought in with me and place it on the bed. “For you.”
Mae peers inside, studying the array of art materials from a tray of graphite pencils, sketchbooks, brushes, and the most expensive, high-quality oil paints I could find.
“I appreciate you have a life outside of this world you’re experiencing and that you have an impending exhibit. These are enough to get you started, but I can place an order for anything you need. If you’ve still got preliminaries to do, make the most of the time here. If you need an easel and canvas, let me know.” I cup her cheek and feel her urge to lean into me. “But you can’t leave. Not yet.”
I pull away. However, her small, quivering voice stops me at the threshold.
“Damon…”
When I turn back to face Mae, without a doubt, I know I am as much her prisoner as she is mine.
“Thank you.”
~
DAMON
“We need a change of plan.”
“The fuck we do.” Jason continues eating at the kitchen island, his attention fixed on our newest building contract. I’ll be meeting with the clients tomorrow, and Jason is completing the last run-through. The idea of leaving Mae alone doesn’t sit well.
I turn to Rosa. “Can you please give us a minute?”
She nods, turning off the faucet before making to leave. It’s then I see the tray of untouched food on the counter. “Rosa, is this Mae’s dinner?”
“Yes, sir. It’s always the same. She hasn’t eaten anything since being here.”
Still reading, Jason mutters, “Let her starve.”
With tension thick in the air, Rosa quietly takes her leave.
Taking a bottled water from the refrigerator, I don’t allow my brother’s foul mood to detract from what’s necessary. The emotionally charged interaction with Mae continues to play over in my mind, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake the image of her despair.
‘I can barely survive Peter. So, the reality is, I would never stand a chance against you.’
Perhaps it’s her seeing me as an opponent—like her deadbeat husband—that’s eating away at me.
“Like I said, adjustments need to be made.”
Jason stops eating, his terse expression meeting mine while wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Why? Because of her?”
To put it simply, “Yeah, her .”
Seemingly having lost his appetite, he pushes his plate aside. “You knew the deal going in. Things are not going to change in favor of you getting your dick wet.”
While I’m feeling generous, I crack the seal on the bottle and decide to buy into Jason’s hostility. “What is it you hate so much about Mae?”
“I didn’t realize I was supposed to like her.”
“You don’t have to like her, but for whatever reason, you have a particular hatred toward her, and I want to know why?”
“What the fuck does it matter?”
“Because it does! So answer the question.”
Jason leans back, tossing the contract aside. “You’re letting her fuck with your head, brother.”
“And she’s getting to you just as bad.”
Grinding teeth, he considers his approach. “You want the truth?”
“What the fuck do you think?”
“Okay. I think she’s becoming your Achilles heel.”
Forced into biting my bottom lip to stop a smile from spreading, I reply, “That sounds a little dramatic.”
“Fuck off, you know it’s true.”
“I don’t, and it isn’t.”
He could be right.
Jason continues because he apparently has a lot to get off his chest. “I don’t like her because she has the ability to fuck this up in more ways than one. And now, with you going all soft, you’ve opened another avenue for things to go ass up. You’re going to let your emotions interfere after we’ve worked far too hard on this project. It’s risky enough as it is.”
“No one is going soft, and I’m fully aware of the risk involved.”
“Is that answer supposed to reassure me?” Jason pauses before issuing his threat. “Keep her in line, Damon. Or I’ll step in and do it for you.”
Setting the water aside, I lean both palms on the marble countertop. “What the fuck did you just say? You’ll step in, will you?”
Knowing better, he drops the attack, holding my stare while considering a more diplomatic approach. “She has a major role in this—”
“Mae’s aware of what’s expected, but the plan still has to change.”
I’m ready to wage a bloody and violent war, and while I’m more than capable of doing it myself, my brother could benefit from unleashing some pent-up rage of his own.
“Okay, fine,” Jason concedes. “How do you propose we do that?”
“By dropping a bomb on every pitiful part of Peter Cooper’s miserable life.”