Chapter Seven
Rue
I wasn’t usually someone who got in the car with a strange man and let him take me to a new location.
I was actually someone who was abnormally paranoid about things like that. I didn’t let my ex drive me anywhere until we’d been dating for almost a month.
That said, Kylo was going to be taking me to do something that, quite frankly, terrified me. I was a little worried that if I had a bad enough panic attack, that I wouldn’t be able to get myself home. So I was going to let myself be the passenger princess for the day.
I wasn’t stupid, though; I shared my location with Traeger as well as gave him screenshots of Kylo and his license plate from the security camera over our front door.
I was not about to get kidnapped and murdered. Not even to cross off something on my very long list I’d been working on for days.
My grandmother, as expected, was pretty thrilled about the whole thing, telling me that there was no reason at all to rush back, that Ernest would be just as happy with her all night as he would be at home (I’d argue happier, since she indulged him constantly) so I could spend the night out if I wanted.
Then, horror of all horrors, she came out of her bathroom offering me a few condoms from a giant pack she must have purchased at the bulk store.
“I insist,” she said, grabbing a small handful and shoving them into my purse before I could object.
On the way out of the lot, I had to wait for one of the men across the street to pull out on his motorcycle before I did, stopping for gas and frantically trying to shove the condoms into my glovebox so they didn’t accidentally spill out when I tried to put my phone away or something while with Kylo.
With that task completed, I made my way to Vital Greens. Where I promptly nearly ran down my own sign at what was parked in the lot.
A motorcycle.
And Kylo was standing beside it with a wicked smirk tugging at his lips as I slowly pulled in, my heartbeat thrumming.
“It was on your list too,” he told me as I climbed out and strapped my crossbody bag over my chest. “And I just so happened to have one.” He watched me, likely taking in the way anxiety was overtaking the shock. “Or we can take your car, no pressure.”
“Do you have an extra helmet?” I asked, my belly fluttering.
He stepped aside to show one hanging off the handlebar.
“And you’ll go slow? Ish?” I asked, ignoring the way my heartbeat was tripping into overdrive.
“I will.” He gestured toward my car again. “Or, if you’re not ready—”
“No,” I cut him off, stepping closer to the bike. “No, let’s go.”
I knew if I gave myself even thirty seconds to debate it, I would chicken out. Then all I would do for the foreseeable future was beat myself up about backing out.
Kylo, seeming to sense the urgency, quickly helped me adjust the helmet, put his own on, and climbed on the bike.
“Just climb on behind me, scoot close, and hold on,” he instructed.
Pretending my legs weren’t wobbling, I made my way over and then climbed on.
As I shifted close and wrapped my arms around Kylo’s midsection, though, my heart started hammering for an entirely different reason.
Feeling his chest rising and falling beneath my forearms distracted me enough that I barely noticed the purr of the engine coming alive beneath me.
It wasn’t until my stomach dropped as the bike lurched forward I remembered that I was supposed to be freaking out.
My arms squeezed tighter, and my legs crushed around the outsides of his as I held on for dear life while my system adjusted to the sensation.
True to his word, Kylo seemed to just barely be doing the speed limit, and he was careful to brake little by little ahead of a light or stop sign and slow down on the curves.
Little by little, inch by inch, I felt myself relaxing, felt the tension leaving my muscles and the panic loosening its hold on my throat.
I didn’t move away, though. Not because of fear, but because I liked having the excuse to stay close to Kylo, to feel his firm back against my chest, his warmth around my arms as the wind whipped past us.
It didn’t surprise me that as the moments passed and my mind cleared of its anxiety, desire gripped my system like a vice. It was in the shortness of breath, the swooping sensation in my chest, the tightening in my lower stomach, and the aching between my thighs.
I had the absolutely insane thought that I should rub against him, but was quick to brush that away before I did something completely humiliating.
It wasn’t a short ride to Miami, yet it felt like we got there way too quickly for my liking.
When the engine cut, I had the strangest sensation of the vibration still moving through my legs, stomach, and chest.
“It’ll pass,” Kylo assured me as he lowered the kickstand and climbed off, leaving me no choice but to move and do the same. “How was it?” he asked, reaching to undo my helmet then carefully pull it off my head, mindful to free strands of hair that got caught in it.
“Terrifying for about a minute, then kind of cool. I mean, I’m not running out to get a motorcycle license or anything, but I’m happy to have another thing to scratch off my list. Thank you for going easy on me.”
“Of course. I’m glad it was worth the shot.”
“Okay. So, I did a little research, and there are about four different places we can go to for… no?” I asked when he shook his head.
“It’s all set up,” he told me.
“Wait… what? How?”
“I know someone,” he said.
“That sounds like something a guy in a mob movie says.”
“Nah,” he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, looking disarmingly boyish for a second. “Definitely not in the mafia. But I have a friend who is… there’s not a nice way to say he’s disgustingly wealthy, is there?”
“Not really, no.”
“Well, he’s rich as fuck. He recently bought a property on Golden Beach.”
“Wait… isn’t Golden Beach that, like, island thing where…”
“Where the rich guys play? Yeah. One of the only private beaches on the island. And Teddy’s estate steps right up to the sand. Honestly, don’t know what he’s thinking. Seems like one strong storm might sink the place.”
“I guess when you’re that wealthy, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“That’s true. Anyway, he is at some charity event in New York. The place is sitting empty. He lent us it, his chauffeur, and the boat.”
“Why do we need a chauffeur?”
“Because he’s also… a boat guy. I dunno. Rich people staffing is weird. But he will have the boat and parasailing shit all set up for us.”
Should my red flags have been flying high right then? Yeah, probably.
Did bad guys pretend to be nice ones to lure unsuspecting women to their watery graves? Yeah, probably.
But Traeg took his location-watching seriously.
I had strict instructions to be in touch with him before getting on the boat, then after I was back on solid land again.
Then every forty minutes after that, assuming it went any longer.
If I went more than an hour and a half, I suspected cops would be showing up at my last known location.
Or, barring that, he and his friends (a surprisingly large group) would be there raising hell until someone got in touch with me.
I aspired to be the kind of friend Traeger was to everyone he cared about.
“So… are we getting back on the bike?” I asked, reaching for my phone to shoot off a rapid-fire text to Trager to explain the change of plans. If Kylo thought it was weird, he said nothing.
“No. We’re going to get picked up by the driver. I’m a little worried someone might call the cops on me if I showed up at Teddy’s estate on my old bike.”
“Gotcha,” I agreed.
Granted, I didn’t know much about Florida real estate, but I knew Miami in general was expensive. So a private beach area? That had to cater to the top point-five percent of the upper class.
“And here he is,” Kylo said, his hand going toward my lower back but not touching it as he waved with the other hand outward.
I followed his arm to see a sleek black town car pulling up. The back windows were blacked out, but I watched as a man in a full black suit (in the Miami heat) climbed out.
“Kylo,” he greeted. “Miss…”
“Rue. Just Rue,” I said.
“Rue,” he said, giving me a respectful nod as he opened the back door, his free hand tucked behind his back as if to assure me he had no intentions of touching me.
I slid in and over so Kylo could move in beside me.
I found myself way too thrilled at the tight space when his whole body pressed against mine as the driver slammed the door and then moved to the front. He automatically slid the privacy glass up before pulling away again.
It was a short drive.
I spent the last little chunk of it wide-mouthed, nearly pressed to the glass as we turned into the Golden Beach area.
“No way!” I said, looking over at Kylo when the car came to a stop in front of the largest house I’d ever seen in my life.
It was all white stucco with perfectly manicured lawns and tons of towering palm trees.
“I know, right?” Kylo agreed, shaking his head. “I looked it up after I was invited here the first time. Take a guess at how much it costs. Whatever you come up with, double it.”
“Ten million.”
“Ten? Darlin’, this is Golden Beach. This manse cost thirty-nine million dollars.
I’d be disgusted by that if I didn’t know that Teddy was a really philanthropic guy.
He runs a community clinic, a food pantry, and is working on some project to get the unhoused off the streets and into houses that provide some dignity.
That’s not including all the smaller shit he does.
Actually, I should bring him to the shop sometime. ”
“Why’s that?” I asked, sliding out of the car as the door opened for me.
“Because he owns a string of hotels, apartment buildings, and rental properties. I’m assuming they might all benefit from live plants.”
That would be pretty life-changing for the shop.
But my stomach automatically tightened at the idea of needing to have more shipments come in.
“Maybe. Live plants are a lot more work for staff, though, so maybe not.”
“Well, I’ll ask,” Kylo said, shrugging. “Want a tour?”
“We can go inside?”
“Of course. I’ve got a key and everything,” he said, flashing it at me.
“Um, not to be rude, but would it be possible to do the parasailing first? Because, like, if I have time to get myself all worked up about it—”
“You’ll talk yourself out of it.”
“Exactly.”
Kylo nodded to the driver, who walked off to, I assume, get things ready.
“Let’s go around the back then and use the outside bathroom to get changed and put our shit down.”
The backyard featured an outdoor kitchen with attached cabanas that each had a small sitting room and bathroom, a lovely built-in pool (that I scratched my head about because how did you have a built-in pool on an island?), and some small patches of grass before there was a two-foot wall you could step over to get to the sandy beach.
“Take pictures,” Traeg said in my ear as I tried to strip out of my clothes with one hand so I could give him a quick whispered update.
“I can’t take a picture of a stranger’s home!”
“I don’t want to see his S&M collection, just a shot of the pool and master bathroom.”
“Maybe,” I said. “You have my location, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay. We’re going to get right to the parasailing so I don’t get a chance to chicken out.”
“I still can’t believe you rode on a motorcycle with that man.”
“I know. Me neither. I might have to leave my phone in the cabana to go on the boat. But you have the address where I’m at.”
“I do. Have fun on the boat. And off the boat.”
With that, I moved a bit self-consciously out of the cabana in my swim shorts and bikini top, suddenly kicking myself for not going out and buying a tankini top for this.
But all the worries, yeah, they slipped right out of my head when Kylo’s door shut.
Then there he was.
In black swim trunks.
And nothing else.
My gaze was helpless but to slide over his body, finding not only more tattoos I hadn’t been able to see before, but the outlines of muscles that I suddenly wanted to run my tongue along.
My mouth felt dry as my gaze made it back to his face.
And that little whimpering sound I thought was just in my head? Yeah, nope. No such luck. I made that noise. Out loud. Where Kylo could hear it.
I saw the moment he heard it, too, because his lids went a little heavy and a wicked glint moved into his dark eyes.
When he moved toward me, I swore there was something languid and primal about the way he approached me. Like a predator circling prey.
Only, could you really be called prey if you’d be willingly devoured by a man like this?
“I like this,” he said, his hand raising, fingers sliding up the yellow strap of my bikini top to where it was tied in little bows at the top of my shoulder. “Like the song,” he added as a little shiver racked my system at his barely-there touch.
The song?
My mind felt slow and thick.
It took an embarrassingly long time to understand what he said.
I was wearing a yellow polka dot bikini. While it was a bit, you know, boob-forward, I wasn’t sure I would call it ‘itsy-bitsy.’
Kylo watched me swallow hard, unable to speak.
Seeming to like that reaction and wanting more of it, his finger slid back downward.
His fingertip was just about to trace the top of the cup when the damn boat pulled up, making him snatch his hand away.
He exhaled hard, then forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Ready?” he asked.
For him to take me back into one of the cabanas and have his way with me until I wouldn’t be able to walk right for a week?
Yes, absolutely.
To be strapped to a canopy and launched into the air off the back of a boat?
Not in the least.
“Yep.”