Chapter 35
Evan
Ared-hot rage, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, burns through my veins like lava, my body vibrating as if electrocuted with high voltage.
I need to release all this pent-up fury.
I want to go back to that club and take that fucker’s hands and eyes for even thinking he had the right to lay them on Anais.
It’s ridiculous, feeling like this. I’m Evan fucking Maxwell for Christ’s sake.
Jealousy isn’t in my vocabulary. Yet, the moment I walked into that club…
I felt the same humiliation – only a hundred times worse – as I did when Valentina cheating on me was splashed all over the tabloids for the world to see.
My body wasn’t mine. I was out of control; laser focused on removing that idiot from what’s mine.
But Anais doesn’t belong to you, that annoying voice in my head reminds me. The arrangement, the boundaries I put in place when this started between us. Yet, every fiber of me denies that statement.
Truth is, Anais feels like mine.
More than anyone ever has.
And that should be enough for me to put a stop to this madness…
But I can’t.
Because I’d rather feel unhinged than never touch her body again.
After getting Anais’s friend’s address, I reel it off to my driver and settle back in the seat, attention fixed on the passing city. I refuse to look at the brat right now. But that doesn’t mean I can’t feel the heat of her stare burning the back of my head.
The silence is deafening, the air thick. I don’t acknowledge her. Instead, I get comfortable, letting her simmer in her own fury.
Finally, the brat speaks, breaking the silence and trying to draw my attention. I don’t give her the satisfaction.
“What the hell were you thinking back there? Are you crazy?” she yells, incredulous. Despite my anger, it takes everything in me to fight the smirk threatening to break free. “Are you hearing me?”
“Nais, just leave it.” Her friend whispers. I nearly praise her for having some sense. Maybe she can teach Anais a thing or two? I briefly mull over the logistics of that and whether it’s even possible–
“No, I won’t leave it.” She cuts off my thoughts. “This asshole, ruined our night.” Her voice is filled with indignation. “I was having fun with Grady.” I hear rather than see the smirk in her voice.
My jaw clenches, at hearing his name. Once again, I question why it bothers me so much. I never cared about Valentina with other men – well not until she fucked another man. So why is Anais different?
Is it repressed trauma from my relationship with Valentina?
Do I now see every man as a threat? For Christ’s sake, every time Eli even glances in Anais’s direction I have the urge to throw him from the top of our building.
I shake my head. Nah, it can’t be trauma.
I was over Valentina the moment she let another man stick his dick in her.
I don’t do feelings. I’m a fucking Maxwell.
An American God. A legacy. I don’t get insecure about anyone.
Especially not preppy fucks, batting way out of their league.
Before I can dwell anymore on my unusual behavior, the vehicle stops outside Lana’s building.
The girls whisper something to each other, low enough I don’t really hear anything.
Then the door is being opened and Lana climbs out, closing the door behind her.
Then it’s just me, my pain in the ass, and the thick, suffocating, tension simmering between us.
I give Anais’s address to my driver, and silence settles between us once more. But of course, the little brat just doesn’t know when to keep her smart mouth shut.
“I’ve never been to your penthouse,” she states.
That catches me off guard, and I finally turn to look at her. The fire in her lilac eyes pierces straight through me, but it’s the hint of vulnerability she tries to hide that makes my chest tighten. I clear my throat. “What?”
“I. Have. Never. Been. To. Your. Penthouse.” She repeats, slowly, mockingly.
“Why is that? Because I’m your dirty little secret?
” It’s not a question though it’s presented as one.
She nods to herself. “Yeah. Good enough to fuck in the dark, where nobody knows about us, but not good enough to hang off your arm at an event, like Valentina does.”
Rage ignites inside me. Does she really think so little of herself? Sure, I’ve never given her a reason to think otherwise. But she knew the score from the beginning. Anais knows why we have to keep this quiet. Her brother being the main reason.
I work my jaw, inhaling, then exhaling. I try to remain calm, try to remind myself that she’s hurt, lashing out after seeing a picture she’s taken out of context.
“I did not take Valentina to the fundraiser.” I tell her.
I don’t owe her an explanation so why I’m explaining myself, I’m not sure.
Relief flashes across her expression, but I still see a hint of suspicion.
“She was there with a date and ambushed me. Look closely at the photo. You’ll see disgust on my face not love.
” My eyes roam over her and my jaw tightens.
The image of that motherfucker with his hands all over her, in a dress that should be illegal, flashes in my mind.
She acted out, put herself in danger because her brain told her lies.
“Instead of acting like an adult and asking me, you decided to act like a fucking brat.” My eyes drop to the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Do you know what happens to brats, Anais?” I drawl nonchalantly.
“They get punished?” she breathes.
I smirk. “Smart girl.”
Instead of going to Anais’s apartment, we end up at my penthouse.
She was so worked up about having not seen my home, I thought I’d show her that she’s not missing much.
For the rest of the journey, she stayed quiet, the charged anticipation of what I was going to do to her, how I was going to punish her, hanging heavy between us.
Her heels click on my marble floor as she steps out of the elevator that opens straight into my penthouse. Whether it’s the liquor or the fact she’s with me, she didn’t panic in the elevator.
“Wow,” she breathes, eyes locked on the view through the floor to ceiling windows.
My eyes rake over her back, taking in all the flawless skin exposed by that fucking dress. My jaw tightens; I hate that other men have seen her like this. The flimsy material barely covers her body.
“Funny, I was just thinking the same,” I drawl, eyes on her body.
She turns to face me. A smirk pulls up one side of my mouth when she glares. “I meant the view outside those windows.”
Closing the distance between us, I grip her waist, enjoying the gasp that falls from her full lips when I pull her close. “And I was talking about you. Fuck,” I growl. “What made you think this dress was acceptable to wear in public?”
Anais laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I wanted to piss you off.” She admits quietly.
“Mission accomplished.” My nose drops to her neck, inhaling her scent. Only now it’s mixed with the smell of sweat and liquor. “You let another man touch what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours,” she murmurs. “You made that clear.”
“For now, you are,” I throw back. “And you still let that asshole touch you. Grind on you.” I lick a trail up her neck, nipping her pulse point, before smoothing the sting with my tongue.
“Do you hate me for letting him touch me?” she pants.
Sardonic amusement washes over me. “Oh sweetheart,” I murmur. “With how angry I still feel after seeing that fucker’s hands all over your body, my body. I just might hate you.” Not true. But she needs to understand the gravity of what she did tonight.
She pulls back to look at me. Her gaze wild as she swallows down her nerves. Her words a breathy whisper when she speaks. “Then fuck me like you hate me.”
A growl tears from my throat. I nip her bottom lip. “Oh Brat, so innocent. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Her breath hitches. She steps out of my hold, gripping the hem of her dress and pulling it up her body and over her head, leaving her in just a small thong and heels. Her tits, so round, so fucking perfect, beg for my attention and they’ll get it. But first, I’m curious to see what she’ll do next.
“I do know,” she insists. “Take me to your bedroom and fuck me like you hate me, Evan. Please.”
I run a finger across her bottom lip, drawing it out then letting it go. “You don’t have to beg.”
“Please,” she repeats, desperation leaking from her.
Rationality shatters. Without thinking I dip down, throwing her over my shoulder and stalking down the hall to my bedroom. I throw her down on my bed, my gaze locked on her.
“Just remember, you asked for this. I won’t go easy on you,” I warn, my voice guttural.
“Don’t want you to,” she taunts.
My jaw clenches. I make quick work of stripping out of my suit. “Take off your heels and panties.”
She quickly obeys, throwing her heels down on my bedroom floor. The thong is next, as she draws it down her long legs, leaving her bare. My eyes flicker to her dripping pussy, and I groan
“Lay back, pull your legs up spread eagle. Hook your elbows around your knees and don’t move. I want you on display, with full access to your wet cunt.”
Her eyes widen but she swallows down any hesitation. She follows my command, pulling her legs up wide, and holding them in the air with her arms.
“Like this?” she asks tentatively.
“Wider if you can.” A thrill shoots straight to my cock, when she widens her legs even more. I can see everything. And what a fucking exquisite sight it is. “Good girl,” I praise, climbing between her spread legs and dipping my head to taste her.
Anais jolts like she’s been shocked. “Oh my god,” she breathes.
“Hold still. Don’t let go until I’m finished with you,” I order, getting back to work.