I was hot. Not in the figurative and complimentary sense. Literally.
I was faintly aware that a pair of arms were wrapped around me and a hard chest was pressed against my back. A man. A man whose body practically radiated with heat.
Jesus. Allah. Buddha. Shiva. Zeus. I prayed to all the Gods to please, let it not be Archibald.
I forced my eyes to open, blinking as the unfamiliar surroundings settled in my throbbing head. I dropped my eyes on the arms around my body and tried to move away but the man merely pulled me back. I swallowed hard, trying to remember the events that unfolded last night.
I remembered taking Alex up on his challenge that he could out drink me. I remembered licking his body as we did tequila shots off each other. I remembered getting pissed drunk. I remembered…
What else?
Did we fuck?
I tried to remember but I quickly gave up when my head protested with being used too early.
If I did fuck that piece of shit, I wasn't going to stay around for the awkward morning. I never minded one night stands. I've been jumping from one unknown body to another long enough that it would be ridiculous to act like a nun about it. But this was Alex. Leo. Archibald. He was like the crass and homicidal version of my brother. He could be a pervert but he never showed any intention of fucking me. Fucking him was practically incest.
I wanted to vomit. Right then and there.
I bolted from the bed, gagging as the bile rose up my throat. I spotted a door and kicked it open. Running out of the room and down the hall, I kicked down the next door I saw and practically jumped for joy when it ended up being the bathroom. I ran for the toilet bowl, dropping on the floor and hurling my guts out.
Fucking tequila.
The disgusting noises I was making probably woke him up because seconds later, I felt his presence. I didn't turn. I would probably vomit again.
"You asshole..." I hissed while I was hunched over the toilet seat. "I swear, Archibald, if we fucked and you infested me with whatever disease you're carrying, I'm going to cut your fucking dick off and feed it to your daughter," I spat menacingly before going into another fit of vomiting.
This was why I stuck to whiskey. And vodka. And scotch. And beer. Rarely tequila. That shit bites your ass once morning came.
"Who's Archibald? Is that one of your friend's list of fake names?"
I froze when I recognized the voice. It wasn't the perverted killer.
I straightened as I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. I turned my head to look at Rick, my eyes raking over his half naked state. He only had a pair of boxer's on, his chiseled torso blatantly on show as he leaned against the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, regarding me with an unimpressed gaze.
I winced, a sudden stinging in my head catching me off guard.
"Did we fuck?"
"No. You passed out after vomiting allover yourself. It wasn't exactly a turn on," he muttered dryly.
I groaned and dragged myself up to my feet, which was a mistake because a wave of nausea hit me like a ton of bricks, causing my head to make a quick spin on its own motherfucking axis.
The floor suddenly seemed incredibly close to my face.
Rick was on me in a flash before I face planted myself on the tiles and I held onto his arms as my limbs gave out.
"Take it easy," he chided.
I groaned, trying to get a firm footing but it was like trying to stand on water.
He sighed. "Food and rest. What's so hard about getting those?"
I slapped my palm over his mouth, his voice causing the throbbing in my skull to worsen.
"Bed. Please," I croaked out.
He muttered something under his breath before easily lifting me up in his arms and striding back to his room. Despite of his obvious annoyance, he laid me down on the bed carefully. He was probably pissed that he had to tend for me.
"I'll go in a few minutes. I just-"
"No. Stay there. I'll take you home once you've recovered."
I groaned. "Jude's going to kill me."
"He probably will. I called him last night. He didn't sound too happy," he muttered in obvious disapproval. "When was the last time you ate a full meal, Angel?"
I closed my eyes, too tired to keep them open.
"Dinner." I swallowed hard, the bitter taste of bile rich in my tongue. "With you."
I sneaked a glance and winced at the sight of him practically fuming, his nostrils flaring while he sent daggers down at me through his eyes.
"You're so..."
He pursed his lips, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he took a deep breath almost as if to calm himself.
"Rest for a while. I'll get you a glass of water and make you some breakfast," he said calmly before striding out of the room, keeping the door wide open.
I groaned in frustration. I didn't need this. I didn't want to be around him. I didn't need him to tend for me. Fuck this.
I got up, fighting through the nausea and fatigue as I staggered out of the room. I was very much aware that I was only wearing a t-shirt but I didn't give a shit. I'd leave even if I was in my birthday suit.
I held onto anything within my reach as I surveyed his apartment and I easily caught sight of the front door. I headed for it, clutching onto the couch as I slowly made my way around the living room. Almost as if he could sniff me out, he emerged from the kitchen. I wanted to run when he marched over to me but my limbs refused to move.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"Leaving."
"You can barely stand!"
"So?"
"Mein Gott!" he exclaimed, gesturing with hands as if he wanted to crush my head. "Will you just stop being so fucking stubborn and let me care for you?"
"I don't want you to fucking care for me!"
"Too fucking bad." He stooped low and lifted me in his arms. "You're just impossible," he muttered, shaking his head as he stomped his way back to his room, placing me back on the bed again. "Now stay there or I'm going to tie you down."
I huffed, turning away from him. "Why am I here anyway? Where's that Laura chick? Aren't you supposed to be getting a morning blow job from her?"
"For the last time! I have no interest in Laura! I have no interest in anyone but you! Do I have to write that fucking down for you?!"
I scoffed. "She practically had her tits shoved on your face."
"Says the girl who was practically engaged in foreplay with her friend while doing tequila shots off each other."
"The fuck do you care."
"Same way you care."
"I don't give a shit."
"Keep telling yourself that, gorgeous."
"I will."
He marched his way out the room while I kept glaring at the wall, trying hard not to let fatigue take over me. I'd be damned if I humored his heroic charade.
Like the asshole that my body was, I drifted off to sleep.
* * *
I was woken up by something cold gently caressing my body and I practically jumped a mile when I felt the damn thing on my stomach.
"The fuck are you doing?" I seethed, crawling away from Rick as he sat beside me.
"You have a fever," he replied, soaking the damp towel in the basin filled with iced water.
I took a moment to collect myself, wrapping my arms around my bare body. I snapped my eyes to him.
"You were touching me," I hissed. "You promised you won't."
He sighed. "I know, but you were burning up. I wasn't even touching you. Just the towel," he said, holding it up as if to prove a point. "Now please, lay back down. I'm not going to hurt you."
I looked at him for a moment, trying to deny the fact that I believed him.
"What time is it?" I said instead.
"Around one."
"Don't you have to go to work?"
"I took a day off."
I frowned. "Why?"
He gave me a flat look. "I couldn't exactly leave you, Angel."
I pursed my lips, dropping my eyes. "I should go."
"Not yet. Your fever just came down. I'll take you home once you've eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
Something in those three words ticked him off.
He threw the towel against the wall as he sprung to his feet.
"For the love of God, Angel! Will you look at yourself for one fucking second?" he snapped. "Your body is practically begging for you to stop abusing it! How long do you think you're going to last like this, huh?! Another year? A few months?" He scoffed. "You're in pain, I fucking get that! I do! But making yourself suffer won't do anything but worsen it! I can practically see your ribs, Angel! And don't get me fucking started with the track marks all over your arm! You've gotten worse in a matter of weeks! You keep saying you don't want to hurt me, or your brother, but this! Seeing this! Seeing you like this is ripping me apart! Seeing you in pain is ripping me apart! And not seeing you at all is ripping me apart! Will you just fucking stop?!"
He was seething with enough anger that should have scared me. He wasn't just pissed off. He was livid. Unbelievably livid. Fiercely livid.
His chest heaved at every harsh breath that he took while his eyes raged with so much anger and his body practically simmered with unadulterated fury.
"I'm sorry," I managed to spit out.
He sighed, his shoulders sagging as his rage almost instantly disappeared.
"You have a lot of things to be sorry for but I don't need an apology. I need you to lay down and let me take care of you. Can you let me do that just this once?"
I nodded and obliged. He let out a harsh breath before sitting down beside me, picking up the towel from the floor and soaking it in the basin. I bit my lip, tensing when he placed it on my bare chest, slowly sliding it down to my hip. I screwed my eyes shut when he repeated the process, my hands curling into fists as the cloth went back and forth, pressed against my scars.
The anxiety was building up. The pain becoming harder to ignore as the memories assaulted my my mind.
He stopped but the panic continued to wreak havoc inside me.
"Angel, breathe," he said and I just realized that I wasn't.
I forced a deep breath through my mouth, my chest trembling as it refused to allow it.
"You do it," Rick said, placing the towel in my hand. "I don't want to hurt you,"
I shook my head, unable to speak.
I've never touched those things. I couldn't. Even when I was showering or taking a bath, I always used a sponge but even then, it was still fucking awful.
Rick sighed, taking the towel again. "I'll make it fast."
He did it fast and my breathing was just as fast. I was hyperventilating. Going into a full blown panic attack at the feel of someone touchng me there after years of depriving myself that simple thing. Touch. Even when I fucked, I always kept myself guarded. Sometimes when I got too drunk, I'd forget and when I did feel being touched there, I'd end up hitting the person or kicking them.
I was that fucked up. Incapable of being touched by another person. It was pathetic.
When Rick was finally done, my chest was tight and the walls seemed to be closing in on me. I just kept myself still and let the panic attack pass, wishing I could rip my chest open so I could breathe.
He was watching me, observing me almost as if he was trying to pick out every movement I made. I closed my eyes, the feel of his gaze making my anxiety worse.
After minutes of me pathetically struggling to catch a proper breath, he handed me a glass of water and I chugged it, only just realizing how thirsty I was.
I steadied my breathing, blocking out the awful memories of that god awful day and everything that led up to it. Everything that happened after it. Everything that made me even more fucked up. Too fucked up for this man.
"Stop staring."
Even though I couldn't see it, I knew he was staring. At those things. I didn't want to know what was running through his head as he inspected the cracks on my shell with a careful eye.
"Sit up," he ordered.
I opened my eyes half way, seeing him holding a t-shirt in his hands. I took it, not wanting him to touch me anymore, and slipped it on quickly, letting myself relax at the thought that at least I had some sort of barrier against him.
"I made you some chicken soup earlier. I'll just heat it up," he said before getting to his feet.
He left and when he came back, he was carrying a tray. He placed it on the bed, taking the bowl and dipping the spoon into it. He blew at it before bringing it to my lips while I just stared at him.
"Angel, I don't want to force feed you, but I will if you don't eat."
"Why are you doing this?"
I couldn't fucking get it. Was it pity? I didn't see it. I couldn't see one fucking thing in his eyes.
He sighed. "Just eat, Angel."
I pursed my lips, trying hard to get through him but he was just blank. Empty. I couldn't stand the sight of it.
"I can do it."
I reached for the bowl but he held onto it.
"Please. Let's not fight right now," he said, sounding exhausted.
We looked at each other for a fleeting second, the spoon held out in the space between us. He didn't try to shove it down my throat. He didn't look like he was pissed off anymore. He didn't show anything and I hated it.
"Angel. Eat," he said, his voice flat. Nothing.
I stared at him more, wanting something. Not this crap. "Are you pissed?"
He sighed. "I'm not," he said, still the same tone of indifference. "Just eat. Please."
I looked away, parting my lips and letting him feed me like an incompetent fool. I forced myself to swallow and he went on feeding me for six more spoonfuls of soup until I couldn't take it anymore. My digestive system was so fucked up, I couldn't even bear having it even half filled.
"Just one more," he urged.
I shook my head, refusing to meet his eyes. "I can't."
"Angel, you need-"
"It hurts!" I snapped.
He sighed but didn't force it. He gave me another glass of water before he gathered the tray and went back to the kitchen. When he came back, he took my temperature, muttering about how it had lowered and made me take an Advil.
When he was about to leave again, I caught his wrist. I looked at him, trying to see through his guarded eyes. I couldn't read him still. It was unusual. He was always so open but now, he was blocking me out. I realized he was being Dr. Richardson right then. Not Rick. I hated it.
"I didn't know you were watching."
He frowned almost in confusion.
"Last night," I went on. "I thought you left. I saw you leave with her. You were talking to her all night. You told me you were going to fuck her."
My hold on his wrist tightened at the thought.
"I was angry. Alex was there. He was just trying to distract me. I was going to shoot up on heroin so I could stop thinking. He hates drugs. He had a little brother, Alfie. He died after OD'ing on heroin a few years ago. Other than his daughter, I'm all the family he has. We were just messing with each other. Trying to get our heads off the shit inside us. He wanted to stop thinking about going to his kid and I wanted to get you out of my head. I didn't want to think about you being with her. I didn't want to think of you touching her. It was driving me crazy watching you laugh with her all night. You never laugh with me. You never smile. I'm not like her. I can't give you what every other girl can. It made me so fucking angry."
He moved closer to me, his free hand reaching to hold my cheek but I drew back, screwing my eyes shut. I needed to let this shit out because it was starting to suffocate me.
"I don't know why you want me. I have nothing to offer you."
I sighed, dropping my head when he tried to hold my cheek again.
"I'm fucked up, Rick. So deeply fucked up that you can't even imagine the things I have to constantly live with."
I gripped his wrist even tighter, fighting through the lump in my throat.
"I can't stop doing drugs. I can't stop drinking. I hurt when I eat. I scream in my sleep. I treat people like shit. I'm always angry. I'm so fucked up, Rick. Why would you want me when you can have someone better? Anyone else is better than me. That's why I can't wrap my fucking head around you wanting me. It's not just the sex. It's not about the money or opportunity. You don't want anything. That's what scares me. You don't want anything. You just want me. Wanting me is the worst possible thing you could do, Rick."
I opened my eyes, seeing him staring at me. It caught me. The way he was looking at me. It had my head spinning. My fucking chest clenching. My throat tightening.
"I remember all the shit I said last night. It takes more than a few shots of tequila for me to black out."
I fucking hated it. Everything from last night was coming back to me. I wanted to shoot myself. I got too drunk to think before speaking but I wasn't drunk enough to forget about everything I said.
"But just because I said all that shit doesn't mean I'm going to magically flip," I went on, looking away. "I'm a ticking time bomb. I know you're going to end up getting hurt because of me. I'm already hurting you now. That's why I can't let this go on anymore. You deserve better. You may want me now but you won't if you knew how bad I can get. You won't want to have anything to do with me if you saw the worst. Thank you though."
I paused, forcing a smile as I let go of him. The absence of his skin against mine made me feel so fucking empty, I wanted to grab him and never let him go.
"Thank you for caring," I said, curling my hands into fists to keep myself from reaching for him. "I never thought I would meet someone as good as you. I needed that. It was nice. Being with you. I'll cherish it."
I offered a broad smile while he just looked at me. I decided if this was going to be the last time I got to see him, I at least should keep a souvenir.
I leaned in, taking his lips in a deep kiss. I took it in, mentally shoving it in a box in my subconsciousness as a reminder that I once had a man as good as Frederick Richardson care about me. Genuinely. Not because he was paid to. Not because he felt sorry for me. Or that he wanted something in return. He cared because he just did.
I pulled away and I didn't waste another second. I clambered off the bed, disregarding my state of undress and heading for the door. Before I even got there, he yanked me back, his arms coming around me.
"You just can't stop spouting bullshit for one second, can you?" he whispered, tightening his arms when I tried to pull away. "You don't actually expect me to just let you go, do you?" He chuckled lightly. "I already signed an NDA. I'm not going anywhere."
I froze at his words and then I was fuming. Rage coursing through my veins.
"Who made you sign?" I hissed through gritted teeth.
"Jude came by the hospital yesterday."
"I'm going to fucking kill him."
"He's only protecting you," he immediately defended.
"Like hell he is. Can't you see how fucked up this is?" I bit out, untangling myself from him. "If something involves a non-disclosure agreement, it's a sign that you should walk away, Frederick!" I yelled, a hand coming to my head as my skull practically broke open.
"Lay down," he ordered.
"No," I hissed, glaring furiously at him as I fought through the nausea waving through me. "Did he even tell you why he made you sign? Do you even know what you've gotten yourself into?" I seethed, my hands curling into fists. "My mother knows you saw her with Andre. That's fucking why! She threatened you. She probably already has eyes on you. She may be a trophy wife but she's not a dumb bimbo. Why do you think the shit that she does hasn't hit the tabloids? Because she's smart and ruthless. She'll do anything to keep herself from being ruined. Jude may think he only wants to protect me but we both know you're not capable of hurting me. He made you sign that shit to protect her. Did you even read it?"
He didn't answer me and I wanted to rip his scalp off. This fucking idiot.
"You grew up surrounded by people of the law! How could you sign something without reading it?!" I said in disbelief. "I know every word in that fucking contract by heart, Rick. It was structured to benefit us in every angle! We practically own you now. Every thought, every word, every fucking breath, it's ours!"
Idiot. Stupid fucking idiot. Stupid stupid stupid fucking stupid idiot.
"Angel, calm down. It's just an NDA," he said gently, as if trying to console me.
"It's not! Your signature gives us the power to make your life a living hell if you even attempted to breach the contract! We can ruin you beyond the law! We can do anything we want to you and you won't be able to say shit to anyone about it! You don't get to walk away. You don't get to talk to anyone about us. You'll practically be living a double life. How could you do that to yourself?"
I hit his chest repeatedly but he didn't seem affected by it. It made me want to hit him more.
His jaw clenched and I felt the tensing of his body against my fists.
"What are you hiding?"
I shook my head, letting out a harsh breath. "My family is filled with enough fucked up shit to drive a man into insanity, Rick. Secrets. Lies. Depravity." I shook my head again. "Tell me. Just fucking tell me why you're even wasting your time with me. God, make me understand why you're so intent on ruining your life by being a part of mine!"
"I don't know. I can't make you understand when I myself don't even understand why I feel like this. But I just can't walk away. It scares me too, the things I feel for you. The things I would do for you. It's insane but I can't help it. I can't shake it off."
"That's just a load of bull!" I screamed, shoving him away from me when he tried to hold me.
"No. It's just cheesy as hell. Doesn't mean I'm lying."
"No. I refuse to do this. You are not going to be a part of this. Give me a phone."
"Why?"
"Give me a phone, Frederick," I hissed. "I need to rip that fucking contract to pieces before my father sees your name."
I spotted my phone on the bedside table and I went to it, yanking my arm free when he tried to pull me back. There were missed calls and messages from my brother. I dialed his number. He picked up on the first ring.
"Say my fucking name and acknowledge my authority."
I heard him sigh. "He told you."
"Fuck yeah he told me! Now say my fucking name!"
"It's just to-"
"Fuck it. I'll say it for you. My name is Vivien Angel Howard-Lastor and as the current third seat of the family council, I have the authority to declare Frederick Richardson's contract void on the grounds of fraud, under duress, and misinformation on his behalf. Effective immediately. Rip that fucking contract right now!" I bit out, ignoring Rick as he watched me with a mix of confusion and apprehension.
Jude sighed. "Your grounds aren't firm. You have no proof of any wrongdoing and he was competent to sign in his own will. He'll support my claim."
I felt myself fume as my breathing grew harsh, the throbbing in my head becoming redundant.
"Page five. Clause two. Appendix three," I hissed. "If the recipient of this contractual agreement was not given proper disclosure of the reason behind its necessity before signage and deliberately deceived the recipient, he or she may contest its validity on the grounds of fraud. Clause four. Appendix two. If the recipient signed this contractual agreement without a third party witness, deliberately putting the recipient at a disadvantageous position, the contract is not binding on the grounds of under duress. Clause seven. Appendix five. If the recipient was led to believe false information by the executor, he or she may demand for the contract to be void immediately," I enumerated, barely stopping to breathe as I paced the floor while clutching my head. "First ground. Fraud. I can bet you my fucking arm you didn't disclose even a fraction of what was the real reason why you made him sign. Protection my ass, prick," I spat harshly, "Second ground. Under fucking duress. You isolated him with the intention of manipulating him. I don't have to know what bullshit story you told him but I bet it was good enough that he'd sign without reading shit," I practically snarled into the phone. "Third ground. Misinformation." I chuckled humorlessly. "I don't have to elaborate on that one because we both know you're too much of a pussy to say anything against them, you little bitch."
I raked my fingers through my hair, pacing back and forth. My anger was so extreme that I was tempted to reach into the phone and wring my brother's throat.
"I want that contract ripped to pieces and burned, or so help me God, Jude, you're the one I'll be ripping to pieces and burned."
"It's already done, Gel. I've sent the original copy to Mr. Jenkins yesterday. The council would have been made aware of it by now," was my brother's mechanical response.
I let out a breath of disbelief. "He's your friend. How could you do this to him?"
"He wanted it. I gave him the chance to walk away. He rejected every attempt I made. I couldn't disclose anything else without the assurance that he won't speak a word of us and I can't let him stay without making him sign an NDA. That would be irresponsible of me," he defended, his voice flat. "And quite frankly, you have no right to question me. You're my right hand before my sister. You are obliged to support my decisions, even if it conflicts with your opinions and beliefs."
Right then, I knew I wasn't speaking to my brother. This was Jude Lastor. The heir. My fucking master.
I closed my eyes briefly, holding back the urge to scream.
"This is personal, not business. Everything that concerns his relationship with me is my responsibility."
"And as my right hand, you're my responsibility. Everything you do affects me and I cannot allow you to risk yourself by letting him in without precautions."
"If he were a risk, I would have made him sign myself. But I didn't. Because I was going to leave him the fuck alone! You didn't even have the decency to notify me! What you did is downright immoral!"
"It's harmless, Gel. As long as he keeps his mouth shut."
Exactly. As long as he keeps his mouth shut.
"That is not fair."
"He doesn't have a choice."
My hands curled into fists as I shook, bristling with fury.
"If he gets hurt..." I trailed off, pursing my lips as I set my gaze on Rick. He was too fucking good for this. "You have my word, brother, I'll make your pretty little whore suffer ten folds."
"You swore you would protect her!"
I hit a nerve without even trying. He was getting sloppy.
So was I, apparently.
"You asked for this. I'm just giving back the favor," I spat mockingly. "You touch what's mine and I destroy yours. That's how we do it, isn't it?"
"I swear to God, Angel. If you-"
"If you want to keep fucking that whore of yours then do as I say and burn the contract. Because trust me, brother, you don't want to see what twenty-four fucking years of depravity can do to someone's reason. It's practically non-existent in me. If someone even so much as looks at Rick the wrong way, I'm going to tear your pretty little whore to pieces. And when I'm done with her, she'll be begging for a bullet straight through her skull and I'll make sure you watch me bleed her fucking dry till the last fucking drop."
I cut the call and scrolled through my contacts, pressing call on Art's caller ID. He answered before it even rang.
"Miss Lastor," he greeted sharply. "The evaluations are currently-"
"I don't give a shit. Drop everything."
Art paused for a moment, the sound of numerous footsteps resounding around him before a door was open and shut.
"Please, give me your orders."
"Stella Roberts. Make it loud and do your worst," I began, glancing at Rick. "Drop her in one of Jude's properties when you're done and tell her; if my brother doesn't do as I say, it will be me who comes for her next."
"How long do we keep her?"
"Long enough to make the both of them beg."
"Yes, Miss Lastor."
I cut the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. I looked at Rick and let out a harsh breath, rubbing a hand over my face as I took a step back just so I couldn't hit him.
"You really weren't joking when you said you knew every word of that contract," he muttered sardonically as he carefully put a hand on my shoulder. I glared at him. "Calm down, baby. You scare me when you get murderous."
"This is not a joke, Frederick," I hissed as I dropped myself on the bed.
He sighed, crouching in front of me. "I know, but you have to calm down. You're sick. Stress can worsen your state. I don't want that," he said softly. "Who was that on the phone just now?"
I pursed my lips. "My insurance company."
"Don't lie."
I turned my head away. "I'm not telling you."
"Alright. What about Stella?"
"What about her?"
"Are you really going to hurt her?"
"Yes."
"Don't do that. I can handle myself and she's innocent in all of this."
"So are you," I snapped, turning my head to face him. "Jude put you on the line of fire when he made you sign and I will not let you become collateral damage in a war you shouldn't even be in."
The idiot actually smiled. I swear, I was going to hit him.
"So this is how you show you care, huh? Threatening someone's life for mine? Wow." He sighed, shaking his head. "But as flattered as I am, I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me. Call it off."
I turned my head away again. "No."
"Baby, this is Stella. You promised to protect her, remember?"
"I only did that to make my brother happy. She means jack shit to me and right now, the only thing I want to make my brother feel is pain and misery. No one crosses me without regretting it. Not even him," I said, meaning every word.
"I made the decision to sign," he pressed, trying to make me look at him but I refused to move my head. "Stella shouldn't pay for the consequences of my decision and if you won't call it off, then I will. Give me your phone."
"No." He reached for it and I swiped it away. "Dammit, I'm trying to protect you, don't you get that?"
"I do, but I can't let you do something that you're going to regret," he bit out, trying to get the phone out of my grip. "If you do anything to Stella, Jude will never forgive you. Can you honestly say you'll be able to live with that?"
"I've lived through worse," I fired back, planting my foot on his chest to keep him away. "What I won't live with is having your blood on my hands."
He sighed, drawing back. "Don't you think you're exaggerating just a little bit?"
"You have no idea what my family is capable of," I said, fear snaking its fingers around my throat. "They're monsters fueled by greed. They take everything a person's worth until they're no longer of use and if anything even shows the tiniest bit of threat to them, they will eliminate it at any means necessary. I can't allow them to do to you what they've done to me and I will not spare an innocent life if it means you get to keep yours."
He stared at me, as if in shock, before diminishing the space between us as he kneeled, his hands cupping my face as he pressed his lips to mine.
I drew back immediately, covering my mouth.
"The fuck?" He tried to kiss me again but I dodged. "I'm sick, babe."
"I have a strong immune system."
"Will you stop being stupid?"
He shook his head, muttering something that I didn't quite catch and then taking my lips in his. My eyes widened, not knowing where the hell this was coming from but when he deepened the kiss, my useless brain shut off and my eyes fluttered to a close.
His hand clutched the back of my head, his fingers going through my tresses while his tongue coaxed my lips into granting him entry that I was too dazed to deprive. His tongue slipped into my mouth, seeking and taunting mine. I met him halfway, inhaling shakily as I tried to provide air into my lungs while he took over every sense that I had.
I gripped his shoulders, my legs enveloping him while his arm wrapped around my back, pulling me to him. I bit into his lip when he pressed further, the small bit of friction eliciting a wave of current inside me.
Caution was abandoned as the desire we both shared burst into flames. We pulled. We bit. We sucked. Licked. Neither holding back. I poured the rage that was consuming me into the kiss, the hunger I didn't know that I had making me ache more of him.
The kiss turned sloppy. Tongues tangling. Teeth bumping. Lips straying. Hands fumbling. It was almost desperate. It felt intense and it was just a kiss, and yet, it felt more than that.
His hand dipped low and a gasp escaped me when he cupped my pussy with his palm. I shamelessly leaned into his touch, tilting my head back as he trailed wet kisses along my neck. By God, it was insanity. How his touch lit enough fire to burn me. How his kiss had me struggling to breathe. How his mere presence brought me into a whirl spin of peace and chaos.
He was intoxicating. Liberating. Maddening. Addictive.
He angled his head, pressing his forehead against mine while I panted, my mouth half open, my breathing heavy and audible, making sounds of pleasure that I didn't know I could make. When I opened my eyes, I was met with an intensity in his eyes more powerful than before burning me. It had my heart stomping a frantic beat against my chest. Made every hair follicle on my body stand in attention.
He dug his fingers deeper, almost as if searching for something and I cried out, the pleasure that his mere fingers brought me making me cling onto him for dear life. This man was mysole undoing and at each urgent stroke of his fingers, he broke me in ways that had me clutching onto my restraints. Holding back from falling into a pit filled with something unknown. And as everything inside me clenched with the need for release, I knew I've pulled into a path that I didn't know what led to because one thing I was lucid enough to know at that moment while I was clinging onto the precipice was that I've never cum while getting finger fucked before. At least not hard enough to knock me unconscious.