Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Angel
The party comes to a dead stop.
It was a stupid idea to begin with, and I don’t know why I indulged it, other than I’m fucking distracted as hell.
My brothers wanted to have a stag party—well at least Gunner, Rock, and Knox. Axel got back from the country club and disappeared.
But I’d hoped to mend a few fences with them before I got married. I’m not sure what’s coming, but I know if this goes south, I’m going to need them.
The dancers were more than happy to oblige an impromptu gathering, considering the extra pay they’d receive.
But instead of sitting alone in my office, I’m in a room full of people, the music blaring, a prostitute on my lap, and my fiancée staring at me like I just murdered a puppy.
Fucking hell, could this day get any worse?
“Everyone out,” I bark out, loud enough that the dancers scurry to obey. Candy spins too, touching Promise’s shoulder in sympathy before she disappears.
My brothers and some of the club guests are slower, milling, like they want to see what happens.
I slowly stand from the chair, Promise’s eyes locked with mine. There’s hurt and anger all mixed in those big blue eyes, and I see it for a second before they shutter closed, devoid of any emotion at all.
“Where the fuck is Gunner?” I spit, striding toward her.
That signals Rock, and he pushes out of his chair, striding toward the door. “I’ll find him.”
Promise turns her head, looking at the wall to her left as I step in front of her. Ignoring me? I reach out, lifting her so that her torso is pressed to mine. She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t put her arms around me.
“I thought I told the rest of you to get the fuck out.”
The men file out, slower than the women, but they go. The moment the room is empty, I carry Promise to the table. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”
She doesn’t answer. She never answers. But this is different. It’s not just her voice she’s holding away, it’s everything. She’s stiff as a board in my arms.
I set her down, her ass hitting the hard surface of the table we use for meetings. “It was a bachelor party.”
She doesn’t react. At all. Not even a blink.
Which is not fucking helping. That meeting with her father, what I’ve promised, it’s sitting wrong with me.
And this…her finding me with a woman in my lap. I shouldn’t fucking care. I’m a gangster, a drug dealer, a dirty criminal who made a shit deal with her father, fidelity is the last fucking thing I should be worried about. I’ve got sin stacked on top of sin.
But somehow it fucking bothers me that she looked so hurt.
I like her warm and soft. I want her pussy all over my face again.
Last night with Promise was magic and I want more. “Look at me.”
She turns her head, her eyes facing mine, but she doesn’t really make eye contact. “Promise.”
I move her thighs apart with mine, positioning myself in the V of her legs as I hook my hands behind her knees and pull her tighter to my hips and cock.
She lets me, not protesting, but she doesn’t look at me, doesn’t give me any energy. It’s like she’s far away and I’m just positioning some mannequin.
“Promise,” I growl out. I want what we had yesterday. Want it so bad, my chest is tight.
But she just sits there, exposed.
I run a hand down her arm, my touch not as gentle as it should be, but I just want a reaction. Something. I’d take anger at this point. “You want to hit me?”
That gets a flicker. Her mouth tightens and her eye twitches. “Yeah, you do. You want to fucking deck me, admit it. You want to punch me right in the nose and watch as the blood gushes.”
But her face goes blank again. I grab her hips and pull her tight into me, hitting her exactly where I know we both like it. Nothing.
I push her down with my chest holding her head in my palm. But even with my weight on top of her, she doesn’t respond.
“Fucking hell, Promise,” I grit out through clenched teeth. I’d prefer if she fought. Cried. The nothing…
The door opens. “Angel,” Gunner says from the doorway, and I hear the judgment.
“The door was closed for a reason,” I bark back, rearing up as I glare at my brother. I’m looking for anyone to take my frustration out on.
“Yeah. I get that,” Gunner answers, still standing in the doorway.
“You were supposed to bring her to my office,” I fire back, turning toward Gunner. Promise doesn’t move and I yank the hem of her dress lower as I place my other hand on her belly in clear and obvious possession.
“Guy in the hall got handsy with her. Thought she was one of the girls. I had to throw him out.” Gunner crosses his arms over his massive chest, giving me a fierce glare.
I always knew that some girl would get between two of my brothers. But I never thought it would be me and Gunner. Then again, Promise is the sort of innocently beautiful woman that men die for.
“Did you want something?” I ask, my fingertips digging into Promise’s skin. She still looks at the wall, like she’s a fucking corpse.
Gunner sees it too, his eyes narrowing in on her face. “You got a fax. Axel says you’ve been waiting for it.”
I already know it’s the contract. My lawyer added addendums, Don’s lawyer has reviewed it, and everyone is supposed to sign.
I grab Promise’s hand and tug her up to sitting. “Get Rock.”
For a moment, I think Gunner isn’t going to do it. He stands there, every part of him expanding. Our eyes lock and I feel his anger. I turn, fully blocking Promise as I rise to match him. If he wants to tangle, I’d like nothing more than a good fight.
But with a snarl he turns away, stomping down the hall.
I pull my phone from my pocket and hold it up to Promise. She doesn’t take it. “Not even going to type your hate?”
When I get no response, I shove the phone back in my pocket. “I guess I’ll bring Chastity back in here. She’ll suck my cock.”
I watch Promise curl deeper into herself, her shoulders hunching even as her face remains expressionless.
Rock appears in the doorway. “What’s up?”
“Bring Promise back upstairs,” I answer.
“Gunner couldn’t do it?”
“Would someone just do what the fuck I ask?” I yell back, my voice rising with every word.
Rock’s brows lift up before he steps into the room and pushes past me to grab Promise’s arm. But his touch is too rough, and when he jerks her, she half falls off the table.
Letting out a string of curses, I catch her before she falls face-first into the ground.
“Never fucking mind,” I bark at Rock. “I’ll take her myself.”
“About fucking time,” he answers.
I flip Promise over and cradle her in my arms. Her dress is short enough that I know her underwear is showing. I glare at Rock before I turn toward the door. “Get the fuck out.”
“Gladly.”
He storms toward the door when it hits me. Everyone is pissed at me. Rock, Gunner, Promise.
I carry Promise toward the door, turning to slide her through the opening before I stride toward the stairs.
I know I fucked up today. I can feel it. What Don wants me to do… What kind of sick fuck asks a man to marry his daughter and kill her?
I should kill him…
Even with Promise in my arms, I take the stairs two at a time, anxious to be alone with her again.
Nothing feels right, and everything I was so sure of is shifting under my feet.
My pace is brisk enough that her arms circle my neck; they’re tight around me as I go.
I stop on the next landing, dropping my forehead to hers. “I want to feel you cum again.” I need something to center me.
“No.”
Shocked, I jerk my head back, her eyes going wide as we stare at each other. “Did you just speak?”
Her lips press tightly together, her features growing rigid. I know I’m not getting another sound out of her, but somehow, hearing her voice is even better than watching her cum. I continue up the stairs, her tight in my arms as I toss open the apartment door, using my hip to push it further open.
I kick it closed behind me and head straight for the bedroom. I’m kicking off my shoes before I’ve even set her down, and when I do lay her on the bed, my chest presses to hers before she has a chance to scurry away.
She goes rigid underneath me, but I don’t let her up, instead I settle my full weight on top of her. Then I press my forehead to hers again. “Your voice is beautiful.”
She shakes her head, her forehead swishing against mine.
“It might be the most beautiful thing about you, which is really saying something.”
She blinks up at me and that’s when I see the tears in her eyes. Is my weight hurting her? My words?
Or is it my actions?
“I was never going to fuck Chastity,” I tell her. “I don’t mess with the dancers.” I don’t actually sleep with many women. It’s not that I can’t. I get offers all the time.
A tear tracks down her cheek, and I know that Chastity was the least of it.
“Your father is important to my family’s future.” But that’s shit too. My brothers don’t want a future that includes Don. That’s all me.
A line appears between her brows. Next to my face, she writes on her own palm.
“No dice. I know you can talk.”
She shakes her head, her body trembling beneath mine. With a sigh, I pull out my phone and hand it to her. I only push up far enough to let her write, my lower torso and legs still on top of her. If ever she might run, today is the day.
She types out a message, showing me the phone.
What are the terms of the contract?
“He gets votes. I get land.” I know I’m leaving major pieces out.
She frowns as she turns the phone toward herself again.
What about me? How long are we going to be married for?
I read the words, my mouth hardening into a thin line. She is so close to the heart of the matter. With her silence, it’s tempting to think of Promise as nothing more than a breathing doll to be moved and used without thought or opinion.
But I got a taste of what that would be like downstairs and it was complete shit. I want the full experience. The warmth, the heat, and intelligence too. I like it way more than I ever imagined I would. “I haven’t worked that part out yet.”
She frowns at me, pushing at my shoulders. But I don’t want to get up. In fact, I start pulling at the hem of her dress. She smacks my hands, her frown turning into a scowl.
“I told you. You are mine, which means, you put out when I want you to.”
She grabs my phone again. I know I’m not going to like whatever she’s about to type, but I’m just glad we’re talking. What a pussy I’m turning out to be.
She takes the phone, her fingers flying over the screen.
You can’t be in bed with him and me. Not going to work.
The words are like a punch to the gut, her hit dead-on. Because she’s right. I’ve got to pick a side. Him or her.
And either way, I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s screwed.