CHAPTER TEN
Jess
I need to get out of here.
The thought nips at me for the entire tour, and it pervades through the close proximity to the delicious Rush.
He’s a distraction. Hot and fresh and mouthwatering, and his easy grin and humor really don’t help me keep on track with finding a way out. The thought lingers but its sting fades when he steps too close.
Which is dangerous.
So I keep my distance, as much as possible without making it obvious. Just so we don’t accidently brush each other.
I’m really not sure it’s far enough.
The tour’s endless.
Rush wears down edges, smooths balm onto nipping thoughts. Makes a girl, if she were stupid, want to sink into him.
Luckily, I’m strong. Immune—mostly.
But Rush’s something else.
I’ve been out of commission for too long and Jack—I worry about Brutus. Always have, always will, I guess. But this is different. The Ten64 have him and they don’t know where I am or if I changed sides. And if they’re trying to reach me…
I bring that thought in. Hard and sharp. I need to be careful.
Because Rush…a flirt with a chronic case of hotness, a guy who should be so full of himself it’s a wonder he doesn’t fall over or walk into walls, looks at me like he sees a little too much. There’s a light of curiosity in his eyes and I should find a smile and pretend it’s good, but I can’t.
Not even for this property, which is something else.
“What do you think of the house?” he asks as he leans against a brick wall out the back.
I shrug. “It’s okay.”
The house is gorgeous, and I can see the Rose touches. I don’t need to know her to know it’s her who adds the softness.
I’ve never in my life wanted to be a beauty queen. I make fun of them, I think they’re plastic and empty-headed, but she’s stunning with a brain. I saw that both in the room when I woke and when she saved me in the kitchen.
In fact, she’s so beautiful, I’m shocked Rush hasn’t tried to hit that. They’d be spectacular with their blond and dark beauty complementing the other.
Of course, Nikolai is drop dead gorgeous, too. Maybe they all—I stop. His cousin, who’s a lot older than Rose, doesn’t seem the type to share.
If I was the dark-haired beauty, I’d go for both men. Hotter than hot.
Shit. I’m not sure that’s true. Maybe for a moment. It’s impossible not to lust from afar over Nikolai because what woman can resist that untouchable smolder? But Rush… There’s something deliciously wicked about him that whispers to some inner part of me.
Probably the fuck boy in him.
Regardless, I’d choose Rush.
Which is why I’m better off single and free.
“Are you listening?” he asks, all warm silk.
Heat flares. “To you?”
“Yes, to me,” he says. “I’m not only hot, I’m full of witty, sexy banter with your name on it.”
“I’ll direct you and your banter to the nearest garbage can.”
He frowns, yet somehow manages a slow burn and very deadly to lady parts smile. It’s low key, lingering and speaks of all the good things that bang in the dark.
The man’s pure wicked sex.
Not good.
Not good at all.
“I was telling you about the house. In great and amusing detail and you went off in your head.” He sticks his face close to mine and I go lightheaded. “You need to pay attention to me.”
“Whore.”
He points at me. “A trap, I call you one back and then—”
“I get to stab you?”
There’s a crackle and spark of electric energy in the air as his smile grows. Those eyes drop to my lips, and I sway in.
He holds that look a beat then lifts up to meet my eyes.
“No, your job’s to save me from being stabbed.” He sighs dramatically. Then he says, quietly, “I know you don’t want to be here, but until we work out what’s going on, this is safest.”
Safe. Nothing about this seems safe.
I’m in the devil’s house and the hounds bay outside. There’s no safety, because—I suck in a breath. “Show me whatever your cousin wants me to see.”
He slides me a curious look as we walk the grounds. Some of it’s wild, with trees that bend and twist and give shade.
It looks like anyone can get in. Except for the fact that the whole place is surrounded by a stone wall and I’m betting it’s wired for sound and vision and probably nasty electric shocks.
Not to mention every entry point’s guarded.
There’s a guard house positioned at a vantage point to see the gates and road in, and the mansion. It’s probably got state of the art weapons and CCTV feeds.
If the Ten64’s think they can infiltrate this compound, they’re in for a rude awakening.
“I am. The property.” He pauses and I wait. “The gang that jumped me?”
There it is, and he’s not even hiding it. I cast him a suspicious look.
Rush might be a lot of things, like a guy who dates boring girls because they have money and probably wet themselves over him. Unlike me. I’m poor. But he’s not stupid.
So why is he being so blatant?
I shrug. “I know there’s activity of gangs. You know that, too. But I’m betting your cousin’s got a finger on the pulse of Queenstown more than I do.”
“Help me help you,” he says.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Fuck,” he mutters.
Fuck indeed.
He heads to the side of the house where the gardens are more curated and there’s a path to a walled area. Out here, someone could sit and enjoy the morning or whatever. I don’t fucking know. I live above a fast-food joint. I don’t live the high life.
Rush spins into me, his finger touching my nose and I swat him away.
“You’re a savvy, stabby chick, Jessie, you know the score. Help out Nikolai and you’ve got backing.”
My heart thumps hard. “Why would I need backing?”
“Because Bunny’s was rougher than I remember.”
“Clientele has waves, it changes. Or maybe you got weak.” I glare. “It’s the same to me.”
“That’s a lie. You wouldn’t’ve warned me if you fucking believed that. You wouldn’t have come out after me.”
“You looked helpless.”
He ignores me. “Unless you set it up. Did you set it up?”
“No!” At least this is true.
“We can help you, Jess.”
“You wanna help?” I ask. “I need my phone and I need my life, and I need out of here. And we ?”
“Nikolai.”
“Oh, the one with the power, that’s who you mean by we? Nikolai?”
“Screw you.” He steps through a black wrought iron gate, and there’s a set to his shoulders. Trouble in paradise between him and his cousin?
I dismiss it, because I didn’t get that vibe when they were together and I don’t get it now, he’s more…I don’t know… Maybe he wants the power?
Rush isn’t exactly hungry. Not for food, pussy or power. I’ve seen hunger in all the guises, he doesn’t have it. Except when he plays with me.
I skirt that. He’s not hungry for the power Nikolai wields. But maybe he feels the weight of his cousin’s shadow? Or maybe he doesn’t like me giving him shit. I don’t know.
I follow because what else am I gonna do? Make like this is Colditz and escape?
All I want is to get Jack and go back to being Lady M and Brutus. Maybe we can dump our road names.
Starting over sounds nice.
I suck in a breath and steady my nerves, the sparks of awareness in me that Rush lights with ease, and I follow him in.
And I stop.
“Oh,” I whisper. “Wow.”
The garden, walled off like a secret that bursts with beautiful surprises, smells gorgeous. It smells like the perfume of the flowers in bloom. There’s a trellis with a granite seat where a pond bubbles behind it.
In one corner is a small iron table and chairs and I can see someone like Rose sitting there, drinking tea or cocktails.
I’m not a tea and cocktails girl. Beer and tequila’s more my style. But for this spot, I’d make an exception.
Dante the cat jumps up on the bench and pushes something off. It’s a cat harness, and I don’t think he’s a fan. Overhead a crow calls. A Rupert. Thing with Rupert is Jack and I used to name all big birds Rupert. A running joke, borne from a life that didn’t have much and he really wanted a pet. No orphanage allows pets.
We’re such clichés.
Dante’s head goes up as he zeroes in on the bird, then he utters a low growl.
He slinks to the edge of the bench and sits, watching. I pick up the leather harness with its elegant chain leash. It’s clear the cat’s dragged it out here recently as it’s not sun-bleached or even weather-worn.
“Yours?” I ask Rush.
He looks at it, and suddenly, all I can think of is the girth of him when I shoved my hand in his jeans, when I felt him up, and my body gives a slow, low throb. Damn, he’d look good in a leash. “You wish.”
“I do.”
“Not happening.”
“Wuss,” I say.
“I’m a little too built for that.”
“Depends where you put it.” I need to stop taunting, flirting. “What’s this grotto?”
“It’s not a grotto.” He frowns. “Is it? What the fuck is a grotto?”
“A thing that…grots come to for safety?”
“Nikolai redid this for Rose,” Rush says.
“He? Not we? Like he and not we can offer me safety?
“It’s been here a long time, in ruin. I used to play in and around here. Anyway, what the fuck ever. It’s a secret garden for grot-creatures. And Rose. I’ll show you the shooting ranges.”
He turns and starts to go.
“Rush?”
“Yeah?”
I’m overcome by the urge to say I didn’t mean the we comment and everything it held. Shit, why I care if it hurt him is beyond me. I’ve got bigger problems.
There are words in my head, but I don’t know how to give them air, and I don’t trust myself.
So, I do the next best thing. I put my hand with the harness on his chest and push him hard, into the wall.
Our eyes meet and heat and flame swirl through me.
I’m not sure I can breathe.
Do I even need to?
“Sometimes,” I whisper, “I’m a bitch. Sorry.”
“Noted.”
I go up on my toes and kiss him and he opens for me as I slide my tongue into his hot, wet depths. Oh, Christ does he taste good. Heat and dark trysts, that slight filthiness of him that fans all the flames and makes lust surge.
It’s a slow kiss for one that’s deep and there’s something on the edge of it that riles.
“Kiss me back, asshole,” I mutter. I bite his bottom lip hard as I grab his wrist with the hand full of leash. “Now.”
“Oh,” he says, “you want me to kiss you back?”
“I just said that.”
“You’re insanely bossy.”
“I know what I want.”
His gaze rakes over my features. “No, you don’t. You’re all over the place, have been since the bar, giving me those spiked fuck me looks along with the I’ll get my machete and chop of your dick vibe.”
“I don’t have a machete.”
“Good.”
“Yet.”
He laughs softly, comes in close to my ear. “Good to know. Why are you so prickly, Jessie?”
“Jess, and I’m not.”
I try to capture his mouth again but he deftly avoids mine. We’re pressed against the wall, me pushing into him and I know he’s hard, I can feel him. I’m throbbing, almost wild with need and he…I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing.
“You are. Lucky for you, I’m thinking of getting into cactus-collecting. The ones that bloom rarely but are so fucking beautiful when they do…”
His lips move slowly along my throat and parts of me melt out of this existence and into another realm over and over.
My tongue’s too big for my mouth. “Are you comparing me to a cactus?”
“If the prick fits…”
Something inside wobbles at that.
“I’m the prick that fits.” Before I can say a word or breathe or make my way back to reality, he spins me and I’m the one pinned against the wall, he continues the slow exploration of my throat and even though he’s kissed me there before, this is a revelation.
The cat harness and leash fall from suddenly nerveless fingers and I arch, wanting that hot mouth and the smooth stroke of his shaven cheek to rub against me again.
It’s what he does. Kisses as delicate as a dragonfly, followed by the heat of his cheek like a cat seeking that perfect spot.
Then back to the kisses. This time he adds the skim of his tongue tip, and I’m out of my mind, I’m collapsing in on myself. I’m lost and exactly where I want to be.
His hands slide over me, fingers touching, drawing moans from me. Thing is, as he continues that light onslaught and the roaming of his hands, he doesn’t bite or take or touch anything sexual, and yet it’s the most blatantly sexual thing ever, and I need it all.
That’s what he does, he coaxes me into a frenzy where my pussy and my breasts ache for more, for his brand of assault. Because it is an assault, a storm my beaches, stealth-style, assault.
His tongue traces the line of my jaw making me quiver, right has his fingers flirt with a nipple.
Oh. Fuck. He knows what he’s doing.
I thought I had his number, but I don’t.
I’m a mass of nerve endings that have been starved. His touch is fire. And, as he comes up, mouth finally, finally on mine, he runs his fingers slowly between my thighs.
My head spins, because he touches the uppermost part of my inner thighs, right near my panties and then up, almost to my clit. On his next slow shift down, his tongue dancing with mine, I realize two things.
He’s not only undone my jeans and pushed them down but he’s lifting the side of my panties and it’s flesh against flesh.
He’s got me quivering on the brink, my clit aching for release as the sparks of joy start to tumble inside. He strokes me, in through my wetness and along my slit up to my clit.
I try to deepen the kiss, to make it as urgent as I feel, but he doesn’t let me.
It’s a low, slow meander down into melting heat. The urgency ebbs and in its place is a suspension of time passing. It’s just this moment, where pleasure undulates and builds, where there’s no one place on or in me that wants to race because it all happens, all at once.
I’m climbing, I’m hovering on the edge of an orgasm that’s so exquisite this moment is almost as good as coming.
He takes me deeper into the kiss as his thumb starts to work those sensitive nerves all around my clit, but not touching, and a finger slips into me and I start to crescendo.
Almost. Almost.
“Jessie,” he whispers, mouth now shifting to my ear, “what’s your involvement with the gang that runs Bunny’s?”
My thoughts scatter as his thumb touches my clit and a small orgasm takes me and makes that plateau he has me on rise higher. “I…I don’t…”
“Who’s Brutus?”
It’s superhuman strength that enables me to turn him into the wall and I squeeze my thighs shut, trying to rub on him, his finger still in me and it moves. Oh, fuck, he moves inside me and I bite his throat, hard.
He hisses a breath.
I have to stop him.
I grab his huge dick, I mean, he’s erect, but he’s huge even without that erection. With it? Oh, hell…I close my eyes, a hard shudder running through me. Then, I peel off him, letting him go and I pull up my pants, glaring at him.
“Family.”
The bastard looks at me like he’s indifferent to what happened. “Family?”
“I have a brother.” I push him and move off, hating the shake to my hands as I do so. Damn fuck boy and his magic touch.
He controlled that.
If he wanted me to come he’d have made me. I’m going to have to be careful with him because I’m not immune to him. At all.
“I want my phone in case he calls. I want to get out of here, in case he needs me.”
Rush smiles slowly. “Invite him here.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
“I can help you find him.”
“No.” It comes too fast, too desperate.
But all Rush says is, “Come on, I’ll show you the rest.”
And he moves off like he didn’t just strip off my pants and feel me up. Like I didn’t just turn into a puddle. I think…I think I might hate him.
L ater, in my prison-room, I stare at the phone in my hands.
Rush delivered it, courtesy of his cousin.
Under the guise of checking on my place, of making sure I still had a job, he snooped into me and no one can tell me different. My jacket with my keys are on the bed and I stare at the one message again.
It’s the only one.
Nothing from Jack. But I don’t expect Brutus to contact me, even if they let him do it. At least not on this. There’s a burner, but it’s hidden at my apartment.
I suck in air to calm myself.
Let us know how u r. CM
A message from the Ten64. The CM means call me.
It doesn’t matter which member it’s from. I need to call the number. But not here. And while they’re not exactly subtle, the text is a finer piece of their work.
They want to know if I have anything.
Rush has gone out on business, along with Nikolai. Rose is out, too. The place feels…empty.
I slowly rise and slide my phone into my jacket pocket then head out. My half-baked excuse for leaving the room vanishes with the fact I’m alone. There’s no one outside.
Maybe they’re not having me watched. Or maybe something happened and all hands are on deck. Silence pervades in the late afternoon, only the sound of a clock ticking somewhere.
In the foyer downstairs, there’s an alarm system, but everything’s green lights. I open the door and look out down over the gravel driveway. No one comes running.
Inside me a different kind of clock ticks.
Quietly, I go in and close the door. Maybe it’s a trap, maybe not, but I start to search. I head toward the study, there was a library down here, so—
The study door’s open.
The clock in me ticks louder.
Nikolai Wilder isn’t the kind of man to leave a room like this open.
Unless there’s a reason.
Dante the cat growls and I almost jump. He’s at the window on a high back chair and staring out at the world. I can turn me wanting to pet the cat into an excuse. So I go in.
Five minutes later I’m frustrated. Drawers locked, computer gone, and not even a receipt for a contraband bag of Doritos.
Nikolai strikes me as a man where that would be contraband.
What I want to do is run. I head back up the stairs and into the wing Rush didn’t show me. I open a door and suck in a breath at the chains and leather attached to the bed. “Oh, Rose…”
I recalibrate her again. Nikolai, oh yeah, he’s a control freak, I could see that when we spoke. And he takes it seriously. I know the gear when I see it. And I know another dominator, too. But Rose?
This is hardcore. On the pretty bed is a box with a bow and I ease the door shut. The secrets in there? Not ones the Ten64 would be interested in.
I move down the hall to the next room.
Nikolai and Rose’s suite. It’s white and a perfect mix of masculine class and feminine.
The bed’s huge, neat, the closet spans a wall and the only mess is the books and magazines in the cushioned window nook.
His books, big and thick, are neat on the coffee table where a decanter of amber liquid sits. I pick one up. It’s a book about Eros, and the history of bittersweet. I put it back.
I turn and open the closet. It’s a walk-in and there, on the bottom, under T-shirts that are all exactly the same, is the corner of a slender book. I tug it out. Numbers. Letters. Amounts.
Maybe I can—
Voices sound outside the room and I panic, pulling the door shut.
It’s Rose and Nikolai. I go completely still as liquid hitting glass from the bedroom seems too loud.
“I’m feeling in need of release, Rose,” he says, voice full of dangerous intent.
“Pour me a drink—”
“You know what happens to filthy little sluts that talk back. On your fucking knees and crawl to me.”
There’s silence but the room, even in here, fills with the kind of tensions I recognize. Deep, sexual. And it pulses through my veins.
“Now.” He pauses and I can imagine him sipping his drink as he unzips his pants. “Or you won’t get your present.”
She must drop to her knees because his next words come through.
“Good little slut. Fuck, you look like a goddess. Oh, sweet fuckable Rose, my heart.” She whimpers. “One who serves her master.”
“Is that for me?” she asks, breathless, hungry, wanting her orders.
And for the first time in my life, I want to be the sub. The one on her knees. Defiled, there to be used. Ordered.
“Yes, sweet Rose. I want you to suck me dry. I’m going to cum in your mouth and you’re going to show me. Only swallow when I give the word.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” And he clicks his fingers.
I also want to be him. Because while I like being in charge, I’ve never taken to the degree Nikolai does. And in my head as my flesh gets hotter, I can picture me with a whip, pulling on the chain around Rush’s golden head, making him crawl to me and—
There’s utter silence.
“Change of plans little whore. You’re going to crawl in the hall, to our playroom. Got me?”
“Yes. Sir.”
That tiny sound of defiance is what I want from Rush, too. Right before I make him eat me out.
A book thumps down, and they leave, their voices diminishing.
Did I touch those books?
Shit.
That change…
I need to run or try to.
Now.
I park the stolen borrowed motorbike on the edge of Elden street, where I live. My heart hasn’t settled since I tore out of Nikolai and Rose’s room and bolted across the property.
And it’s not the adrenaline from stealing a bike, the hotwiring of the bike parked three blocks from the giant mansion and grounds. The motorcycle didn’t belong, but honestly, I’ve got bigger things to worry about, like how disturbingly easy it was to walk out the side gate closest to the house. The lock was easy to pick. Maybe too easy.
But…
Shit.
I shoved the book back where I found it, because I’m not stupid enough to leave with something belonging to anyone from the Wilder crime family.
The first place I went was Bunny’s where Chris sat, bruised, glaring, but after a brief exchange with Rage, the bartender, I went home. As fucking ordered. I’m letting myself into the apartment when the phone buzzes.
Private number.
With shaking fingers, I answer.
“Sending you a pic of Jack, bitch,” the growl of a voice says.
My heart lurches. “Don’t hurt him.”
“Up to you.” The voice waits and I can hear music in the background, and noise. Bunny’s? “Some big muscle came in, to collect your pay and ask fucking questions. You making friends with the Wilder family?”
“No—”
“Then fucking do it. Get us everything. Get in there and get us everything. We want all the sweetest parts of this city and there are those who want more power. Power Wilder’s stopping.”
“I don’t need—”
“Sure you do, bitch. The more you know, the more you’re with us. Got it?”
Trapped air burns in my lungs. I’ve got it. They’ve got Jack, and they’ve got me. The more I know, the more I’m with them, at least in Nikolai Wilder’s eyes. In Rush’s.
They’re making me sign my own death warrant.
“You want me to go back?”
“If you want Jacky-boy. You got a week to get us something.”
The phone goes dead. I wait. No photo. There are other members I can text, but they’re going to make me wait. They’ve either beaten him or will and I can’t do a thing about it. Just fucking wait. I start to slide down the wall.
That’s when I realize I’m not alone.
Someone else is here.
Fuck.