Chapter Four
With banana cake in hand, Lucy checked her appearance one last time in the hallway mirror. She smoothed her hair, took a deep breath, and made her way to Carver’s apartment.
The nervous flutter in her stomach mixed with excitement, making her steps light yet hesitant. She knew she was a little early, but she hoped Carver wouldn’t mind.
Standing outside his door, she raised her hand to knock. However, before her knuckles made contact, the door ominously swung open on its own. Lucy froze, the banana cake feeling heavier in her hands.
“Carver?” she called softly, knocking on the open door.
There was no answer. The apartment was eerily silent, and a chill ran down her spine. She knew she should wait for him to arrive, but when he didn’t appear, her mind raced with possibilities. Maybe he had rushed out for an emergency. Maybe he needed help.
Her eyes drifted downward, and she saw it again—the small bloodstain on his welcome rug. She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening.
The logical part of her mind screamed that she should return to her apartment and try again later, but her curiosity gnawed at her, refusing to let go. She wanted to prove to Cindy—and perhaps to herself—that Carver wasn’t dangerous.
Taking a deep breath, Lucy pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. The apartment was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the floor and walls. She hesitated just inside the doorway, straining to hear any sound that might indicate Carver ’ s presence.
“Carver?” she called again, her voice barely above a whisper.
The silence was oppressive, amplifying her heartbeat in her ears. She moved further inside, her footsteps muffled on the carpet.
The living room was sparsely furnished, with a couch, a coffee table, and a few scattered personal items. It was tidy, almost too tidy, as if someone had recently cleaned up in a hurry.
Lucy placed the banana cake on the coffee table, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of him. Her gaze fell on a closed door at the end of the hallway. A faint, almost imperceptible noise came from behind it, making her heart skip a beat. She approached cautiously, each step feeling heavier than the last.
“Carver?” she called one more time, her voice trembling.
She reached the door and hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She knew she was crossing a line, invading his privacy, but something urged her to press on. Taking another deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Inside, the room was dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The first thing she noticed was a man tied to a chair, his head slumped forward. Her breath caught in her throat and she wondered if he was the one who screamed the night before. His face was bruised, and he looked barely conscious.
Lucy stumbled back, her mind racing. She should leave, call the police, do something—anything—but her feet felt rooted to the spot.
The man groaned, his eyes fluttering open. Lucy’s mouth felt dry. Run! her mind yelled at her, but her feet still refused to move.
The man’s eyes focused on her, and he croaked, “Help me. He’s a monster.”
Help him? Something told her that was a bad idea, because Carver would know she was here. And yet, her mother’s lessons in kindness and helping others flashed through her mind.
Lucy snapped back to reality, frantically looking around for something to help him.
“Knife,” the man rasped, nodding toward a nearby table.
Lucy felt sick seeing the assortment of tools lined there. Taking a deep breath, she picked the closest knife. Her hands shook as she went behind the man’s chair to see what she was working with.
“Hurry, he’ll come back soon,” the man urged.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
She sawed through the ropes binding his hands, her heart pounding in her ears. The tension in the room was suffocating, every second stretching into an eternity.
Finally, she freed his hands and quickly moved to untie his legs. The man wiggled his fingers and shifted his legs, testing his mobility.
“Hurry,” he repeated, his voice more urgent.
Lucy worked faster, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She cut through the last rope, and the man bolted from the chair, stumbling out of the room and the apartment like his life depended on it. And maybe it did.
She should run too, she realized, standing there like a fool, still holding the knife, her mind still refusing to process everything that had just happened.
She took a step toward the door when a shadow moved in the hallway. Her heart sank, and she froze.
Carver stood there, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Lucy,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
She swallowed hard, gripping the knife tighter. “I … I didn’t mean to…”
Carver’s eyes flicked to the empty chair, then back to her. His expression hardened. “Where is he?”
“He … he ran,” she stammered, taking a step back.
Carver’s jaw clenched. “You shouldn’t have done that, Lucy. Now you’ve put yourself in danger.”
Fear and confusion warred within her. “Danger? From who? You?” she asked.
Lucy clutched the knife tighter, her knuckles turning white. Carver ’ s gaze fell to her weapon, and he laughed softly.
“Give me that before you hurt yourself,” he said, his tone commanding.
She wasn ’ t about to give up the only thing she could defend herself with. But before she could make the next move, he closed in on her, his grip firm yet careful as he twisted her wrist.
In an instant, the knife was out of her hand, and she was left stunned. How the hell did he move so fast?
“I’ve been doing this for a long time,” he said.
His eyes looked less intense now, but no less crazed. She found it strangely hot, actually, despite the situation she was in. God, her thoughts. She was going to die in the next few minutes and she was still thinking about how attractive he was? What was wrong with her?
“I can’t let you leave now,” he said, sounding almost sad.
Lucy’s heart pounded. Unthinkingly, she closed in and kissed him, thinking it might catch him off guard … and it did. The knife clattered to the floor as his hands went to her waist, pulling her close.
He kissed her hungrily, deeply, his lips pressing against hers with a fierce intensity. He tangled his fingers in her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss, and she felt the heat of his mouth against hers, a scorching wave that drowned out every rational thought.
His body was solid and warm against hers, and she could feel the strength in his arms, the controlled power that both terrified and thrilled her. She should shove him away, run while he was distracted, but the intoxicating pull of his kiss made her knees weak.
Cindy was right. That man was right. Carver was a monster, and yet, the heat of his mouth against her, the pressure of his body against hers, felt right. It was like she couldn ’ t get enough of him, and she didn ’ t want him to stop. She wanted to remain a captive in his arms, lost in this moment of dangerous, exhilarating passion.
Carver broke the kiss first, breathing heavily. His eyes searched hers, a mix of confusion and desire.
“Lucy,” he murmured, his voice rough and raw. “What are you doing to me?”
She looked up at him, her own breath ragged. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I can’t stop.”
For a moment, they just stood there. Come on , Lucy desperately thought, make the next move. Are you going to kill me, or fuck me?
****
Carver didn’t know what went through his mind when he rushed out of his apartment to buy groceries. Lucy was still on his mind, and he was focused on cooking her a great dinner.
In the process, he had forgotten to lock his front door. Such a grave mistake—one he’d never thought he would make. Flunkies and new recruits in his brothers’ organization made stupid mistakes like that, but not him.
Despite the messy nature of his work, he was meticulous and careful. Carver always thought two steps ahead, yet Lucy had a way of unraveling him.
As he stood there, looking at her now, he saw the defiant glint in her eyes, the tension in her shoulders. Her entire body was trembling—was it from fear, excitement, or maybe a mixture of both? Carver couldn’t help but want her even more.
She was a witness. No, even worse, she had freed Emmet. The next logical course of action was to get rid of her. It was simple, clean, and would protect his operation. But he couldn’t do it. Not Lucy. Not the girl who reminded him he still had a heart despite all the foul deeds he racked up in his family’s name.
His gaze lingered on her, and he saw the flash of confusion and fear in her eyes. Carver took a step closer, his voice low and steady.
“Lucy, you shouldn’t have come in here. You should ’ ve knocked,” he said.
She lifted her chin defiantly. “I-I was worried about you,” she said.
“Worried?” He couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped his lips. “You just freed a dangerous man, Lucy. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she stood her ground. “He was hurt. I couldn’t just leave him,” Lucy replied.
“Sometimes,” Carver said, stepping closer still, “leaving is the safest option.”
He was close enough now to see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, to hear her shallow breaths.
“And what about you?” she whispered, her voice shaking but resolute. “Are you going to hurt me?”
Carver reached out, his hand gently brushing her cheek. Her skin was soft, warm under his touch.
“I should,” he admitted. His heart ached at the thought of hurting his sweet Lucy. “But I can’t.”
Lucy swallowed hard. “Why not?”
“Because,” he said, his hand trailing down to her neck, his thumb brushing against her pulse, “you make me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time.”
Her pulse quickened under his touch, and she looked up at him. Carver thought there was something more than fear in her eyes now. There was hope, hope he was going to end up crushing.
“What now?” she asked.
Carver took a deep breath, his mind racing. Brave girl. Sweet girl. He had to think of a plan, a way to protect her from his brothers.
In the end, there was only one solution to make her understand it would be in her best interests to keep his secrets, and that was to possess her, make her his in every sense of the word. So, instead of answering her with words, he tugged her close and kissed her again. How was it possible that she tasted sweeter every single time?
Instead of fighting him like any sane person, she melted against him, pressing her generous breasts against his shirt. Lucy even parted her lips so he could thrust his tongue down her throat.
He reached for the hem of her sweater and she raised her arms so he could peel it off her faster. Lucy kicked off her shoes and that was when he knew he had her. All thoughts of escape had left her pretty little head. She was his for the taking. Carver took her mouth again, hungry for more.
“ Your clothes,” she said, panting a little as he pulled away from her lips.
He took off his shirt, pants, and underwear and now there was no longer any piece of infuriating fabric getting in the way of their skin touching. Carver didn ’ t think, he simply acted on impulse.
He cornered her against the wall, pinned her arms above her head. Still, she didn ’ t resist. Lucy simply submitted, moaning as he left a burning trail of kisses down her neck. He sucked on the hollow of her collarbones, nipped at her hardening nipples.
Lucy groaned when he left a bite mark on her left nipple, then her right. He wanted a matching pair. She wrapped her legs around his waist with surprising strength and agility, practically begging him to take her.
“ I ’ ve dreamt of this,” she whispered.
“ Me too,” he said. Carver then kissed her, then guided his cock into her sweet, slick pussy.
The moment she felt the tip of Carver ’ s dick inside her, she moaned. She couldn ’ t believe this was happening, that she was letting him fuck her against his apartment wall … and loving every moment of it.
She tightened her legs around his waist, drawing him closer, liking the sound of his groan. He easily held her, like she didn ’ t weigh a thing and looked her like she was the only thing in the world worth possessing, and that thrilled her to bits.
Forget what happened earlier. She blanked that out for the moment, because right now, this—she and him—were all that mattered. Carver entered her, taking his time, making her aware of every glorious inch of him. It was pure, sweet torture and finally, when he was balls-deep inside her, she let out a sigh of relief.
“ You hurt?” Carver asked, concern in his voice.
She shook her head, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him. With her mouth sealed on his, he rode her. When she urged, practically begged him to go faster, he complied, pounding her against the wall, fucking her like he owned her. Maybe he already did.
She wouldn ’ t mind belonging to a man like him, a man filled with passion, someone who lived his life however he wanted. Screw the natural laws of the world. He shifted his hips slightly and brushed against her sweet spot.
Lucy gasped, arching her spine, and he kept aiming for that special place over and over again. Pressure continually built inside her and she started meeting him for every thrust until it became too much.
She raked her nails across his chest as she came all over his cock. He hissed in pain but seeing her climax only seemed to spur him on. Carver thrust in her several more times, before filling her with his seed. The thought of protection never even entered her mind once.
Lucy held onto him, still gripping his biceps even as he picked her up and carried her to his bed. His movements were gentle as he placed her down on his soft, silky sheets, a sharp contrast to their furious lovemaking earlier. Her thoughts raced.
Was he going to end her now, despite what had just happened between them? Lucy wasn’t thinking clearly earlier. She had let her body dictate her actions, and she was going to pay for it now, wasn’t she? She watched Carver pace around the room, her anxiety growing with each step he took. Why wasn’t he doing or saying anything?
Her mind raced back to the man she had freed. Carver had claimed he was dangerous. Who was he? Would he go to the police? Should she expect them to burst into Carver’s apartment any second? Cindy’s warning echoed in her ears. Maybe that man was also part of Carver’s world. That might mean he wouldn’t go to the cops. So what then? What was going to happen now?
She had to find out.