The Bad Boy Arrangement - Nora Flite

The Bad Boy Arrangement

USA TODAY Bestselling Author

Nora Flite Copyright © 2015 Nora Flite All rights reserved. THE BAD BOY ARRANGEMENT is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page A preview of what's to come: - Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen - Epilogue LAST OF THE BAD BOYS - Chapter One - Chapter Two- Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six -

- Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen - Chapter Sixteen - Chapter Seventeen - Epilogue ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~ Also from Nora Flite: Connect with Nora!

A preview of what's to come: “You shouldn't give me instructions,” he whispered, fingers circling my wrist just below my mug. “I'm the kind of guy that will listen. Telling me what I need to do to make you blush is dangerous.” My mouth was suddenly dry, I couldn't even remember the taste of my drink. Abell ruled my senses. I could see where his eyelashes connected with the hooded lids of his heated eyes. I could even see the tiny lines across his perfectly smirking lips. We were too close, and I knew it, but my brain was firing wrong. Stop this, I told myself, Don't let him get to you. I had wanted to go home and think. There was so much riding on me, and I hadn't had the time to process it fairly. Abell was showing me he knew exactly how to take over my mind. His nearness was as good as a typhoon, demanding my attention and roaring that if I stayed or if I ran, the result would be the same. He would consume me. “Nix,” he said under his breath. “Y—yeah?” Smiling slowly, he ran his thumb in a circle around the underside of my wrist. “You're spilling coffee everywhere.”

Glancing down, I saw that my floor was shining from the constant drip of my drink. Unconsciously, I'd been tipping it as I leaned towards Abell. I shook myself, realizing I'd been inches away from kissing him. I knew he'd taste like the tang of fresh brewed coffee. He'd be delicious, he'd—Stop! Reaching out with my other hand, I grabbed my mug and set it on the sink. Then, I peeled at his fingers; he let me go reluctantly. “Abell, no, we aren't doing this.” “Doing what?” he asked, still hovering over me. His thigh touched mine, and I jumped. “This. I wasn't playing hard to get, I really have no plans to do anything with you. Ever,” I added for emphasis. Chuckling, he rubbed his leg on mine, sliding it inside my knee until we were twisted up like a pretzel. His hands came down on the counter behind me, halting any escape. “You're trying to tell me none of this is tempting you?” Unable to look away from his stare, my breathing became choppy. “I'm cold as a fish.” “Oh yeah?” His eyes flicked down, staring pointedly at my shirt. I followed his gaze, noticing what he had; my nipples were stabbing through the fabric. Biting my tongue, I searched for a response. “It's just chilly in here.” He twisted his lips together. “Then I'll have to warm you up.”

Something was crushing into my hip, digging in hard. With my heart pressing into my ribs, I shut my eyes. I knew what was grinding against me so firmly. That's his cock. He had a hard-on thick enough to drill through his jeans. Abell whispered, “I never did get lunch. Maybe I could eat something else?” Each time my heart thumped, it strangled my brain. This can't happen. Subconsciously, I rocked my body against his. Abell inhaled sharply, a small noise in his throat. His fingers coiled in my hair. Vibrations echoed through my bones, rolling into my pussy, my clit already so swollen I felt my panties rubbing it with every small shift of my hips. It felt amazing, and I knew, if I just... just let this happen, it'd be...

- Chapter One Abell

It had been three days and five hours since my last fuck. Well, give or take. I could be wrong about the hour. Either way, I was antsy as hell. Going this long was like keeping water from a man in the desert. I could survive for awhile, sure, but I knew myself. If I didn't find a nice pair of thighs to dive between, I'd be useless to the world. So, really, it was for everyone's benefit that I got laid. I had a few places I liked to roam when I was scouting for a playmate. Bars are stereotypical, but they work—especially if you like the college crowd. Clubs? They were too sweaty for my mood. Tonight, I'd gone a little out of the way. The rock concert was in a park that had been strung up with Christmas lights along the fringes. An invigorating chill infused the night air. All in all, it wasn't a bad scene. I just wish the damn speakers weren't numbing my ears, I thought with a chuckle. The band had been playing for twenty minutes, but I couldn't have repeated any of their lyrics. My attention

was devoted to scouring the rolling bodies for my next prize. There were women everywhere, thank fucking goodness. Skinny types in painted on jeans, curvy girls with their tits fluffing out... you name it, they were here in droves. I was in Heaven. As I swayed casually to the music, I moved with grace through the packed bodies. The smell of spilled beer weighed the air down, making me glad the venue was outdoors. The space—like every event in this city— was too small to hold everyone comfortably. Speaking of too small. To my left, a woman in a skirt that barely hid her ass was grinding at the air. Her hair was slicked back in a high tail, makeup clinging around her eyes like she was auditioning for a movie about Egypt. She was trying way too hard. I love the Try-Hards. They were the kind of girl you knew was looking to get some cock. Their actions said, 'I'm right here, just insert tab A into slot B and let's go!' My type, entirely; women who knew what they wanted never failed to get my pants tight. Grinning, I slid beside her, my hips rocking with the tempo. Wordlessly, not even meeting my eyes, Skirt-Girl humped the air until she was inches away from me. Her

hips twisted, towering heels barely moving off the grass —maybe so she wouldn't fall and break an ankle. In seconds we were swaying together, her round ass touching my zipper. That long length of hair brushed her neck, tempting me to reach out and grab it. I hoped she liked having her hair pulled, because once I got her alone, I planned to yank it back so I could nibble her pale neck. Just thinking about that has me getting stiff. Carefully, I adjusted myself in my pants, never missing a beat. The music suddenly exploded, turning into applause. Skirt-Girl slowed down, acting like she was watching the stage, but I knew better. This game and I were old friends. Running a hand through my hair, I smiled at her until she glanced my way. It's funny, we hadn't said hello, but I'd had my erection on her ass for several minutes. “Hey,” I said, nodding at the band. “I think they're finishing their set. Come take a break with me, get some air.” Cocking her head, Skirt made a show of toying with the top of her halter. “How about you buy me a drink first?” I wasn't surprised by her request. Try-Hards sometimes want you to buy them something before they'll sleep with you. It's an exhausting ritual, but what did I care? Cash was never a problem for me, I'd had it in spades my whole life.

“Sure, I'll be right back, Sugar. What do you want?” Her eyes darted down, fixing on the front of my jeans for a long second. Oh, she was good. “A beer is fine. For now.” For now. Jeez. Try-Hards are seriously the best. “Beer. Not a problem, you just hang here.” My smile touched my eyes, then I was off. I knew where the nearest vendor selling alcohol was, I'd already chugged a bottle down when I'd first arrived. The problem was that they were as far from the stage as you could get. Shoving around dancing groups and chatting people, I beat a path towards the drink stand. It was past ten, the sky a rich blue-black that would never be truly dark, not with all of the city's light pollution. The edge of the park had a few tall lamps, the people thinning until I didn't feel like I was being crushed in a tuna can. Most folks wanted to be near the stage, so the fringe was almost empty in comparison. There, I thought, walking towards the small table in the distance. Buy some beer and hurry the fuck back before little miss Skirt finds another cock to ride. “Get the fuck away from her!” A voice shouted out from my right. On instinct, I turned to look. Just down the grassy hill, away from the crowds, there was a woman. Reddish hair, black pants, a surprisingly demure cream colored top and appropriate

jacket for the weather. Pretty. Normal. But the situation she was in wasn't normal at all. She had her hands on a man's arm, yanking at him to get him away from... Oh, shit. There was another girl, and she was kneeling on the grass at the guy's feet, doubled over like she'd taken a punch. Had that guy actually hit her? “I said get away from her!” The red head was pulling at the man. There was no hint of fear, even though he could easily break her damn skull. Her short black heels dug into the ground. She meant business. What was going on? And why was no one else doing anything? Not my problem, I told myself, glancing at the drink stand. Visions of Skirt-Girl danced in my head. Her plump lips, her perky ass, her— “I'm calling the cops, you son of a—Aaah!” Red was a damn ghost to me, I had no clue who she was. Regardless, when I heard her scream, I bolted down that hill at breakneck-speed. His fingers were crushing her forearms, turning the skin bloodless. Seconds before I careened into the group, I saw Red's face. Instead of terrified about how he was ready to split her in two, she was pissed this guy had dared to touch her. Who was this woman?

Grabbing the man's shoulders, I yanked him to me, forcing him to release Red. Then, before he could get his balance, I shoved him away violently. He stumbled, catching himself at the last second. “Hey, Fuck-Head!” I shouted, cracking my knuckles. “What the hell are you doing to these two?” I wasn't some breed of hero; this was none of my business. But no one else had stepped up. How could I sit back and watch? The big guy stomped forward, eyeballing me— sizing me up. “This isn't your problem, buddy. Why don't you get out of here before you get hurt?” I knew he could see the muscles through my tight shirt and open jacket. I'd dressed to impress the ladies, but it also warned the world that I was no push-over. If this guy thought I'd be an easy mark, he was dead wrong. Standing taller, I flashed my best smile. “A lovely woman in a skimpy skirt is waiting for me to return, and you just cock-blocked that plan. Someone has to pay for that, might as well be the asshole beating on his girlfriend.” To my left, Red made a face. “I'm not his girlfriend, and neither is she.” “You're both single? Good to know.” I blessed her with a quick smirk. The way her eyes widened had my heart beating faster. Unfortunately, I had other priorities.

The big asshole lifted his chin, chest puffed out like a rooster. “Last chance, get lost or get ready to collect your teeth off the grass. Hope you have a good dentist.” “Holy shit,” I laughed. “Did you really just say that? Like, actually say that out loud?” Lines crawled across the bridge of his nose, a snarl if I'd ever seen one. Talking this out was a failure. I'd already figured it would be. Any guy that'd attack a woman had to be short-tempered. Ducking low, he ran right at me. I'd taken some martial arts classes when I was a teen. Nothing serious, basic body-movement and leverage shit. My mother's idea, of course—she wanted me to know how to protect myself from the 'bad kids.' I don't think it occurred to her that I was one of those kids. If she was still alive, I would have thanked her for those lessons now. Anticipating his movements, light on my toes, I tensed up. When he got close, I darted to the side. It didn't take much momentum—he was the one rushing me—for my fist to slam into his guts. The noise he made was awful, like a balloon deflating while it dribbled wetness. Coughing, my attacker slumped forward. Hugging his stomach, he glared up at me through his hair. Drool slid down his chin, veins criss-crossing the whites of his eyes. The fucker wanted my blood.

Twisting my torso, I got ready to give him one more hit, something to drop him for a few hours so he'd stop being a threat. Nighty night, I thought. Red's knee came down, catching him in the ear and planting his face firmly in the grass. Green stained his cheek, his shirt ruined from his own spittle. The other girl gasped, covering her mouth. Holy shit. Lifting an eyebrow, I stared at Red appreciatively. She smoothed her shirt, shrugging. “He deserved it.” Bending over, she helped the blonde woman to her feet. “Are you alright, miss...?” “Trish,” she said, stepping further away from the unconscious man. “And thanks. Both of you. I don't know what made him think it was okay to corner me like that. I told him I didn't want to go home with him. I'd seen him slip something into my drink earlier, knew he was bad news.” A picture was forming in my mind. This guy wasn't just violent, he was a fucking rapist. I hadn't felt bad for him before, but now, I fought back the urge to kick him while he was down. Red pulled out her cellphone. “Let me call the police.” “Wait,” Trish said quickly. “I'd prefer if you didn't.” I frowned dubiously. “He tried to drug you. The shitheel shouldn't get to walk away from that.”

“Nothing really happened, just almost. The cops won't help with this.” Trish shrugged defeatedly. “I've been down this road before. Nothing gets resolved and I get dragged through the mud.” Red looked shocked. “Wait, what?” she asked. Offering an apologetic smile, Trish slid backwards. “Thanks again.” In seconds, she'd faded into the crowd. The red-head tightened her eyebrows, glaring down at the guy on the ground. “Now what do we do?” I understood her anger; this man was trash. But we were in public, it wasn't like I could tear him to pieces with everyone watching. The reality of the situation sucked. I said, “We can't do anything, so we have to do nothing. For now.” She fixed her wide eyes on me. The centers were flaring, green jade that was engulfed in flames. “What does that mean, 'for now?'” Nudging the guy roughly with my foot, I took some sick pleasure in his groan. “That girl is right. The world is unfair, it's shit. This guy is going to be walking the streets again, looking for prey. That's the reality.” “So what, he never has to pay for trying to rape someone?” Slowly, I moved my eyes to hers. I was sure she sensed the budding fury in me. How could she not? It was making the back of my neck hot as a furnace. “No. I said we'd do nothing—for now. He'll pay someday. This city is smaller than it seems.”

Red's lips parted so that the center was a beautiful little 'o' shape. The genuine threat in my voice, my not so subtle promise, had made her reevaluate me. Seeing the way her eyes lit up, I did her the same favor. I'd lost my chances with Skirt, perhaps it was time for Plan B. She said, “You'd hurt him? You'd go that far for justice?” Grinning, I offered her my hand. “Don't know what you're talking about, I don't give a shit about justice. Name's Abell, and you?” Looking from my palm to my face, she hesitated... then reached out for the handshake. “Nix. And you're wrong.” I blinked. “Huh?” She motioned at the guy in the grass who still hadn't moved. “You have to care about justice a little, you jumped in to try and help a pair of strangers.” My jaw tightened from Nix's scrutiny. Having my actions picked apart made me uncomfortable. “What can I say? I heard a beautiful woman in trouble and had to step in to help.” Her lips curled up at the edges. “Too bad she didn't hang around, she could have heard you flattering her.” Bending closer, I lowered my voice. “I didn't mean Trish.”

Nix froze, staring at me like I might bite her. The longer I stood near her, the more I wanted to. She wasn't the type I was searching for while prowling for pussy this evening. Don't get me wrong, I love strong women—and she was obviously strong—but I was suffering a dry spell. Nix wouldn't be easy. Or would she? It's worth finding out. The more we talked, the more I wanted to hear how she'd sound in... other situations. There was a soft indent on her bottom lip. How would that feel under my roaming tongue? Would she moan or whimper when I gently scraped my teeth over her nipples? Fuck. This is happening. I'd decided. Nix was going to be mine. I nodded towards the drink stand. “Let me buy you something. After what just happened, we could both use a little refresher.” “But what about...?” Glancing over her head, I pointed. “The cavalry is coming.” Turning, she peered at the men in security shirts who were being guided our way by bystanders. They'd become helpful now that the action was over. “Security can handle it from here,” I said, reaching for her wrist. Her hand twitched in my grip; it was warm and smooth. “Everyone saw what happened. Maybe the

guy will get charged with causing a nuisance, at least. Come on, take a breather, enjoy a reward for your good Samaritan actions.” Pursing her lips at me, Nix said, “I'm going to talk to them.” “What?” She broke away, hurrying towards the guards. Stunned, I stood there, watching as she spoke to the group. Her hands moved, gesturing sharply from herself to the guy in the grass. A small buzz of pride burned through me. It was laugh worthy; I didn't know this woman, why did I care that she was bothering to take the time to speak to Security? She didn't leave me to stew for long. Writing something down, she handed a notebook back to the guard, then ran my way. The night air brushed the hair off of her neck, her lips were redder than the skin of a fresh apple. I knew I was staring, but thank goodness, she didn't notice. “Okay!” she said, smoothing her hair back, taming it as if she was ashamed it would dare fly free. “I told them what happened, and they have my information if they need me for anything else.” I shook my disorienting mood away. “Then it's time for that reward drink.” Nix wrapped her arms around herself, adjusting her coat. The frown on her decadent lips warned me she was

considering saying no. Everything in her body language was closed off. But she wasn't done surprising me. “Alright,” she said with a coy smile. “I've had a rough week, and tonight hasn't helped. I could use a 'reward.' Just one drink, though. I have an important meeting early tomorrow.” Beaming, I spread my arms. “What a coincidence! I've got a meeting, too, so you can't keep me out all night, no matter how much you beg me.” “Sure,” she laughed, eyeballing my torn jeans. Her furrowed brow said she doubted I had to be anywhere tomorrow. “One drink. That's it.” It's funny how many of my nights started this way; alcohol at the beginning, and my bedroom at the end. Tonight would be no different. Nix was just like every other girl I'd met. But that was good. I didn't need different. **** December had turned the air into a metallic blanket. It crackled with static energy, my nose burning red the longer we stumbled through the streets. One drink had quickly become two. Then three. I'd stopped counting after five.

We were a blur of laughter, heated stares, and progressively more bold touches. As we climbed into the empty subway car, Nix caught her heel on the floor's rough edge. Bending low, I meant to just help her stand. That was when she kissed me. She tasted like beer, and a little bit of whiskey—the shots we'd swallowed had been a surprise. Her hands were in my hair, nails digging into my scalp like I was going to vanish. “Your place,” she mumbled, talking between tangling her tongue with mine. “Now. Right fucking now.” I'd pegged Nix as standoffish. Clearly, I'd been way off the mark. Holding her close, loving how her body warmed us both against the winter's chill, I guided her out of the metro station. “How drunk are you?” I asked, curling her against my hip as we climbed the stairs of my building. I wanted this woman, but if she was too wasted to know what was about to happen... Unlike that scumbag from earlier, I was no rapist. “I know what I'm doing.” She bit the words off, the first hint of the attitude I'd seen in her when we'd met mere hours ago. Through my whirl of alcohol and lust, I studied her. What was going on that I'd missed? She'd been brisk in the beginning. And now she's begging you to take her inside your place. Stop analyzing it.

“Kiss me again,” she demanded, shoving me against the wall beside my apartment door. Fuck analyzing. Clutching my keys in one hand, I curled the other into her hair. It was thick, soft as velvet. “Yes Ma'am.” I forced her lower, arching her spine as I buried my mouth onto hers. Nix's lips were as pillowy as whipped cream, her hips yielding under my seeking fingers. When I crushed her to me, her breasts plumped over my chest. If she'd had on a low-cut top, they would have spilled out. Without breaking our kiss, I shoved the key into the door, kicking it open. Finally I pulled away, sucking in air. “The bed,” I growled, giving her a shove. “Now.” Nix landed there, rolling to her back and yanking her jacket off. The look in her eyes lured me. Pink tinged her cheeks, a mix from the cold and her obvious desire. Approaching her, ripping my own jacket away, I threw it to the floor. Bending down, I slammed my hands onto the bed on either side of her knees. “Shirt. Off.” She shivered visibly, nails hooking under her top so she could pull it over her head. The result mussed up her long hair, ruining what was left of the precise, pulledback style. Nix went to fix it, but I grabbed her wrist. “No,” I whispered, “I like it messy like that.” Her eyes flashed, as if she were trying to recover something in her brain—a deep thought. “You do? Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, pulling myself on top of her. “Plus, it's only going to get worse. Believe me.” Nix squirmed, lying back in my shadow. Her bra was gorgeous, an expensive, silky thing in pale lavender. This woman had money—that, or a sugar daddy. What if she does? That shouldn't have bothered me, but somehow... the idea of another man spoiling her had me bristling. It's the alcohol, I told myself. It's fucking with my mind. Shouldn't have mixed so many things. Yeah. It had to be the foggy drunkeness. Why would I give a shit about who someone else belonged to? I'm a bad person, I knew that to my core. All I wanted was to dominate this woman, leave her panting and broken so that my cock was the only dick that could ever satisfy her again. I love the sound of that. Sliding towards the edge of my bed, I unhooked the button of her pants. Nix was ahead of me, kicking her heels off. “Eager?” I asked, grinning up at her where she was lying. I saw the dip of her throat flex. “Maybe. Is that weird?” “What?” Her mouth moved like a fish, then she looked away. “Nothing, forget it.” Watching her for a long moment, I said, “I want you to be eager.” My teeth slid over the inside of her pants; she twitched, gasping. “Everything I do is meant to drive

you so fucking wild that you forget what planet we're on, baby girl.” She shifted her body, pushing her hip against my cheek. “Then hurry up, get to that. That's where I want to be.” A flutter of doubt flew through my mind. Is this girl using me? That would be new; my motif was to fuck people, then forget about them. No attachments. Nothing long term. I wanted to hear women scream my name, but I always forgot theirs. Was Nix thinking the same thing? I was intrigued, but it didn't matter. If she wanted pleasure so she could numb her woes, then fine. She'd get that. Rolling her pants down, I tossed them in the corner with her shirt. Her panties matched her bra, glossy lavender and already damp. I bent close, flaring my nostrils and meeting her eyes. “Delicious. Fuck, I can't wait to taste you.” Nix reached down, grabbing my hair, forcing me upwards. “No, not that. I don't want that. I just want you to fuck me.” She doesn't want me to eat her out? I slid my hand low, peeling her panties aside. “Are you sure?” Gliding my fingertips over her inner thighs, I spread her wetness around. “If you ask me, this is one hungry pussy. And I love eating hungry pussy.”

“It's not—I just—aah!” she moaned, shuddering as I slid my fingers deep inside of her. Then I pulled them back, fluttering just the tips at her entrance. Again, I dipped into her pussy, rubbing her walls. Nix rolled her whole body, nails curling harder in my hair. “Wait, hold on, that's... that's amazing!” “I know.” Wrenching out of her grip, I kissed just above her swollen clit. It pulsed, but Nix, she tensed down to her toes. Her pussy squeezed my hand, a reaction she couldn't control. “Your cute little cunt is sucking me inside. It's more honest than you are.” She arched her back, whimpering. “I didn't say I didn't like it, I just really want you to fuck me.” “You're blunt,” I chuckled against her skin. “I love that.” With a final twist of my fingers, I slid them free. Nix sighed, her body trying to hold me inside of her. As I smoothed my palm over her thigh, I brushed her clit with my thumb in passing. Instantly she jerked, staring at me with a new rush of heat. I whispered, “You're beyond ready. Is this from me, or are you just always so horny?” Crawling on top of Nix, I straddled her hips. Peeling my shirt off, I put my torso on display. I was covered in ink, dark splashes and punctuating colors. “Did those hurt?” she whispered, tracing my hip. Her touch thrilled me, my eyes shutting briefly so I could enjoy the sensation.

“They hurt, yeah. But I like a bit of pain.” My hands went lower, clutching the top button of my jeans. “I don't think you want to hear about my tattoos. I can tell you'd rather my cock was buried inside you right now.” She hadn't blinked in far too long. When I pulled my zipper down, I watched goosebumps creep over her pale skin. Kicking my pants away, I sat back on her. The way she gawked, I had a feeling she'd just realized how big my cock actually was. It was pushing against my briefs, the material stretching to try and hold it back. “It'll go in easier if I eat you out,” I whispered. Her stare flicked up to my face. “You're not the only one who can handle a bit of pain.” “You've got some attitude, huh? Bit of fire on that tongue?” Laughing softly, I reached down and lifted her hand. Before she reacted, I pressed it against the shape of my erection. Both of us shuddered, her touch making my cock flex under my briefs. I pulled away, but her hand remained. Gingerly, she stroked me, one finger gliding up under the head of my cock. My eyes closed, rolling in my head. Fuck, that feels amazing. Gripping the elastic band, she pulled my underwear down. My prick bounced into the air, the tip shiny, reddish and engorged. Like I said, it had been far too long since my last fuck—I was eager. Squeezing around the base of my cock, I guided it towards her. Her hand came up, pressing against my

chest. I was expecting her face to be flush with passion, but even through the alcohol, she was nervous. I said, “It'll be fine, I'll fit, trust me.” Her eyebrows crunched together. “It's not that. Do you have a condom?” Leaning across her body, I yanked one from my nightstand. The whole sheet of them spilled out, lying on my floor like discarded police tape. Nix blinked at them, but she wasn't distracted for long. Rolling the latex down my thick length, I winked at her. “Better?” She licked her lips, nodding. “Yeah.” “Ready to go for a ride?” Her lashes covered her eyes like a sultry canopy. The edge of her smile went higher. “Yeah.” Rubbing my chest over her bra, I reached under her; the hooks snapped free. With nothing between us now, I caressed her firm nipples with my inked chest. We were smothered together, friction that begged to become real fire. Her arms circled me, thighs forcing the tip of my cock against her pussy. The sensation blinded me, showing me colors that shouldn't exist. Too much whiskey, I reminded myself. The hunger in my belly burned. My prick couldn't have been harder, it was ready to shred the condom into useless bits. She puffed out a heavy breath, the noise vibrating over her tongue.

“Excited?” I teased, rubbing the fat cock-head against her wetness. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Is that all you can say?” Smirking like a half-moon, I pushed harder—spreading her a mere inch. Her warmth was intense, it took everything I had not to ram balls-deep. “Tell me you want it. I want to hear you screaming my name.” Nix went pinker than ever, avoiding my stare. “I... forgot your name.” I started to laugh, but the motion forced my cock deeper. Groaning, I bit my tongue and grinned. Sweat slid between my shoulder blades from my willpower. “Naughty girl, I wait until the next day at least to forget someone's name.” What was the point in storing that information? “It's Abell.” Thrusting fiercely, I listened to her cry out—and I joined her. “Say it, say my name or I'll stop right here.” It was a lie. There was no way I'd stop fucking that perfect pussy. Nix whined, her muscles convulsing under me as the sensation of my cock stuffing her finally reached her brain. “Abell!” she hissed, eyes wide, seeing nothing. “Abell, it's Abell! Now just fuck me, please, just...” Kissing her throat, I moved up, nipping her earlobe. Then I offered her the darkest, most private of whispers. “I love how you sound when you beg for it.”

Arching my spine, I slid out so only the tip was inside her hugging warmth. Without missing a beat, I slammed forward, the wet sound of our contact echoing through my apartment. She squealed, crushing my cock with the most greedy pussy I'd ever met. Her pace was faster than I expected; her body reaching for me, closing the distance again and again. Nix thrust along my shaft with so much desperation, I had to adjust to her speed. “When was the last time you got laid?” I asked breathlessly. “A hundred damn years ago?” Ignoring me, she cut into my back with her nails. Her panting scorched my ear. Nix clutched me, demanding my cock—making it clear she was used to getting her way. Heat bloomed in my chest, then slid down into my belly. Tension flooded my muscles, the tingles taking hold. I knew I was going to finish soon, but I wanted her to cum first. I always made my partner cum before me. It was one of my few generosities. Wrapping my lips on hers, I cut off her erotic moaning. I slid over her teeth, explored her roof. All the while I kept thrusting, my thick cock pushing the limit of her body. I could feel how tight she was, stretching near the breaking point. Nix was soaked, more excited than I

remembered anyone else being—without more work, that is. And fuck, she felt amazing. My skin was going numb, my mouth buttery, almost too sensitive. The telltale flutter of her pussy warned me she was near orgasm. Hugging her against me, I broke the kiss. The dazed centers of her eyes met mine, saw my grin. Lowering my face, I circled the tip of her left nipple, suckling gently. “Oh!” she cried, jerking without control. I held her close, tongue making patterns on her pink flesh. Around my expanding cock, her walls rippled. “Cum for me,” I growled in her ear. “You're right there, babe. Go for it... I need to feel you milking my cock.” Sobbing, her thighs choked my waist as she shook. The pressure of her release put me into overdrive. I bent her hips up, my arms hooking under her legs. While she was still shaking from orgasm, I pounded into her vigorously. Nix bent in two, her knees by her ears. She was flexible, and that turned me on in a way I could never describe. It toyed at me with future promises, told me the things she could do... the things I could do to her. Grunting, I grit my teeth until my skull throbbed. Warmth attacked my core, my balls tightening as I started to cum. The condom worked, but I swear, I filled it so violently the latex was ready to split.

“Fuck,” I said, sweat dripping down my neck. Below me, Nix had shut her eyes. Her cunt embraced me, making it tempting to stay inside of her. Just enjoy it. Ride that pleasure out. I waited longer than usual, studying her eyelashes, the mild curve of her nose. She was beautiful. How had I not noticed just how beautiful until now? Her head lolled to one side. “Right,” she mumbled. “I will, I know.” Startled, I waited for her to explain what she was talking about. Nix was lying there, her eyelids twitching. She's dreaming. I'd fucked her so good that, combined with the alcohol, she was out cold. Shifting, she said softly, “I'll do it. Trust me. I do everything you ask, I always have.” I hated the idea of waking her. Gently, I slid backwards, my shaft dragging inch by inch along her slickness. The sensation was delicious, I had to squeeze my eyes shut and bite my tongue to stay quiet. Dammit, she feels too good. Finally I was free. Sighing, I tossed the condom into the trashcan near the bed. As carefully as I could, I peeled my blankets back. Guess she's staying the night, I thought, bemused. Naked as she was, my room—weak to the December temperatures—proved to be too much. Her shivers were subtle, but I felt them through the mattress. Frowning, I tugged the blankets back, amazed she didn't wake up.

I'm getting all of my good deeds for the year out of the way. That was what I told myself as I covered her up, tucking the blankets firmly around her chin. Lying under them beside her, I kept watching the side of her face. This bold woman... brave enough to stand up against a muscled brute, to protect an unknown person, and to insist the right thing be done in the aftermath. A woman who had proved to be just as eager, as hungry, as I was. The buzzing at the stem of my brain kept trying to tell me this was special. That she, this stranger, was special. No. She's like every other woman I've hooked up with. That didn't sound true. But it was. It had to be. No one in this world was special. Everyone was out for themselves. People were selfish to their core, they always proved it in the end. She's nobody. With that on my mind, I drifted off to sleep.

- Chapter Two Nix

My mouth tasted like the bottom of a lake. Groaning, I rolled over, rubbing my hand over my lips. What the hell did I eat? And why did my skull feel like someone had been jumping on it? It must be from the rock concert. As the black fog slipped off my brain, I remembered more about my evening. How I'd only gone to the show because my 'date' was supposed to meet me there. And, when he hadn't, I'd started to leave in anger. Being stood up was awful. I didn't have time for dating with my busy work life, but I still tried occasionally. Dating sites were the only way I had of meeting men. But last night was just a reminder of what a waste it all was. Wait. Last night. Right. The girl getting assaulted, and me, deciding to get involved. Twisting under the blankets, I felt my sore muscles. Was it all from defending... what was her name, Trish? Chuckling at myself, I rolled onto my side. What was I doing, being all heroic? But she'd needed help. That

guy was going to hurt her, I'd just known it. And no one else was stepping up! No. That's not... entirely right, wait... Blinking, I stared blearily around the room. Had my walls always been so white? No... My apartment was blue, what was going on? Next to me, something moved. Then it grunted. Clarity slammed into me like a train going off the tracks. This isn't my apartment. Then this wasn't my bed! I... No. I sat up, the blankets falling away and exposing my naked chest to the cool air. The motion split my brain in two, I grabbed my forehead and winced. I didn't have the luxury of feeling pain, not right then. I needed every brain cell, all of my focus, to make sense of what I was seeing. There was a stranger lying next to me. In a wavy mess, my memories came back. All of them. Every alcohol infused, sweaty, obscene and wild memory. I never did hookups. It just wasn't me. But the combination of stress at work, stress from my parents, and the rejection of my no-show date, had left me wanting to act out. Abell—his name was Abell, right?—had... I don't know, tempted me to let go. To have some fun, shake

things out. Plus, he'd been my savior, shoving that potential rapist off of me. It had helped that he was sexy as hell, too. Now, sitting in those unfamiliar sheets in the early glow of morning, looking down on his sharp features, noting the string of condoms cluttering the floor... I regretted everything. I hooked up with someone who keeps that many condoms at the ready. Shit, why did the one person I decided to let loose with have to be a player? Flushing, I covered my breasts, frantically looking for my clothes. I need to get out of here before he wakes up. Sliding out from under the covers, I touched my toes against something rough. My outfit! Bending down, I gathered the clothes in my arms, my eyes fixed on Abell with paranoia. Starting to lean away, I wasn't aware of my surroundings; my hip connected with a small alarm clock on the nightstand. The device tumbled free, clanking loudly on the floor. I slammed my palm over my mouth, as if the sound had come from inside of me. Then I saw the time blinking on the clock. It's after eight? Oh fuck, fuck! I need to go, I don't even have time to go home and change, the company meeting... my parents are going to kill me! “Morning,” a smooth, sultry voice said beside me. Yanking the bundle of clothes to my neck, I stared at Abell. He was leaning back on the pillows, arms folded

behind his head. He looked entirely too comfortable, his blue eyes twinkling warmly in the morning sun. His torso was bare, hard muscles and rich ink drawing me back; forcing me to remember the night we'd had. The way he'd rolled over me, claiming every inch of my flesh until I was writhing, soaking, screaming—Stop stop stop! I warned myself. Clearing my throat, I said, “Uh, morning.” “Going somewhere?” “I have to get to work,” I said quickly. “And you decided to take my jeans as a souvenir?” Baffled, I stared at the clothing I was using to hide my body. He was right, it was what he'd been wearing last night. Spotting my shirt in the far corner, I narrowed my eyes on Abell. “Look away, please.” His face went blank. “Look away?” “I'm naked,” I hissed, turning reddish-pink. Abell smirked blatantly. “I noticed.” I think I started to glow, I was so humiliated. “Just look away already!” “But I saw you last night.” He paused. “All of you. Every inch, Sugar.” Again, the memories came. His mouth on mine, his fingers burying between my legs. Gritting my teeth, I lifted my head high and ignored him, walking over to my discarded outfit. I knew he was watching me, I could feel his eyes, but fine. Whatever. I didn't have time for games.

My parents are going to murder me for being late! That was worse than some guy staring at my bare ass. Though I was twenty-three, they both had a strong hold over my life. I guess that's what happens when you work for your mom and dad at one of the top consulting firms in the city. I'd struggled and busted my hump since the first day I'd walked through those doors. It had been torture to juggle every meeting, every success, every failure. I'd never had time for a social life, but the lack of friends and loved ones would pay off. When I'm the owner of the company, it'll all be worth it. All of it. First, though... I had to get to this damn meeting. I didn't know why they were having it. My mother had called me last minute, just before I'd reached the concert, telling me I had to show up at nine today. She could have told me why, I thought, shoving my legs through the holes of my pants. All week, she'd been harder on me—more likely to snap—than usual. It had left me drained, wanting to just break free and change it up. And look where that got you, a stranger's bed. Way to go, Nix. Twisting around, I buttoned up my top. Abell was still lounging, but while his body was relaxed, the hunger in his eyes warned of something else.

This guy didn't even try to hide what was on his mind. I'd never met someone like him. How the hell could he be so raw? Who had the energy for that kind of thing? Still, I couldn't lie to myself; my belly was one big, creamy sensation. No one had ever looked at me with that much desire. Abell lived and breathed sex. Maybe, in another time-line, I would have tossed my clothes off, ignored the meeting, and crawled back into bed with him for round two. But this wasn't a sci-fi movie, I hadn't discovered the ability to jump dimensions. In this universe, I was someone with responsibilities. Goals. None of those included indulging in a second pointless hookup. “Which way is the metro?” I asked, wiggling into my heels. “You're not even going to have breakfast with me?” He yawned, stretching so that every muscle on his chest rippled. Yanking my gaze away, I tugged on my jacket and hurried towards the door. “The metro, just tell me.” “You could at least give me your number.” “I don't give out my number to people I barely know.” “Gotcha. You just have sex with them.”

Freezing, I turned enough to scowl at him. His small smile teased me. “You're going to insult me, when you did the exact same thing last night?” Abell's eyes twinkled like long lost stars. “Don't get upset, I didn't say it was a bad thing. One of the best qualities a woman can have is going after what she wants.” Dammit. Fuck this guy. Staying silent, I ripped open his front door, exposing the hallway of the apartment building. Behind me, Abell spoke with a bored tone. “To the right.” I blinked and looked over my shoulder. “What?” “The metro. Take a right when you leave.” He was helping me now? After busting my ladyballs? I wasn't sure how to take that. Reevaluating him, I placed my hand on the edge of the doorway. “Thanks.” Straightening up on the bed, he let the blanket slip down his body. The soft curls of hair dusting his pelvis revealed before my eyes. It was clearly intentional. Helplessly I glanced there, then back to his face. He arched one eyebrow. “You can thank me by climbing back into bed. There was a lot I wanted to try with you last night, it's a shame I never got to.” Burning like the sun, I clenched the doorway. “And you never will.” “No?” Abell laughed, placing his hand over the blanket between his thighs. Slowly, he caressed the

growing shape of his morning wood. “Sweetheart, remember where I live. You'll want to know when you get that craving for more, and I'd hate for you to forget where you need to go to quench your mad thirst.” Heat throbbed in my lower belly. Biting my tongue, I spun around. “Believe me, we're never going to see each other again.” “Want to bet on it?” “Yes,” I laughed humorlessly. “I'll take that bet.” Abell winked, jerking himself through the blankets faster. “Mmn. What do I get when I win this bet?” Rolling my eyes, I said, “On the impossible chance I see you again, I'll buy you dinner.” “Careful,” he groaned, grinding into his palm lewdly. “I'm not a cheap date.” My whole face was on fire. Could he be anymore obscene? “Thanks for the evening, it was almost good. Almost.” Though I slammed the door, I could still hear him laughing through the wall. Asshole. How dare he act like I couldn't resist him? What an egotistical prick! I don't have time for this, I reminded myself. I had a meeting to be late for. ****

Rushing through the glass doors of the building, I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflective walls. My hair was all over, makeup stained the circles under my eyes; I was a damn mess. I'd decided I definitely didn't have time to get changed, I was late enough as is. Grumbling, I straightened my shirt, then ran my fingers through my hair. My parents are going to lose their minds. Rounding a corner, I spotted a familiar face at the end of the hall. “Gram!” I said, waving at my brother— technically half-brother—frantically. Gram always gave me the impression of a coiled spring. He was uptight, a little anxious—and I understood. I'd experienced the rough side of our family, but Gram... well. He'd always had it harder. Being the product of an affair is never easy. “Nicky,” he said, pushing off the wall. He glanced at the nearby door, the way into the meeting room, then to me. “Where the hell have you been?” “I'm sorry!” I groaned, brushing my palms on my pants. “It was... something just came up.” The word 'up' conjured the image of Abell's cock flexing towards the sky, thick and delicious and... Holy shit focus, you damn nympho. Is this what happened when you got laid for the first time in forever? How did you detox from sex? Shaking his head, Gram reached out to smooth some strands of hair on my scalp. “They're inside, waiting for

you.” The unsaid sentence was there in the air. I was part of this, but not Gram. He'd never been allowed in any of the company meetings. Though he worked here, my brother was treated worse than a regular employee. He had no perks, no real bonuses for being related to my dad. Gram was tolerated at best, part of my father's guilt, and drenched in the shame of how he'd come into existence. My mother flat out hated him. I'd been surprised when he chose to work for us, but over time, I'd understood. Jobs were hard to come by in today's market, and Gram had never gotten a degree; his mother couldn't afford to put him through college, and my father refused to help. Even with the emotional abuse he took, Gram stayed here because he actually loved what he did. Something about the act of problem solving the company finances really left him proud. That counted for something. Inhaling deeply, I stepped towards the door. “Anything else I should know?” I could have sworn that something flashed across his face. “Just get in there before they implode.” Grinning, I soothed my nerves as much as I could... and entered the room. The long, dark pine table—capable of holding fifteen people—contained only three. My mother,

looking ever more tense, my father with his constant frown, and a man I'd only ever seen on the covers of magazines. Corin Birch. He looked the same age as my dad, but there were far less wrinkles across his face. Striking blue eyes, richly tan skin, I was sure he was quite the catch when he was younger. Maybe he still was, silver foxes had their appeal. They all turned to me at once, reminding me just how empty the room was. Wasn't this supposed to be a hugely important meeting? A hard pit grew in my guts. Shouldn't the share holders be here, or the managers, or just... anyone else? “Nichole,” my mother said, not muting her exasperation. “Where have you been?” I hated when she used my full first name. “I got caught in traffic,” I lied casually. Flicking a quick look at Corin, I slid into a chair next to my father. “Sorry about being late.” “Thirty minutes late,” my dad sighed. My lips pulled into a forced smile. Be professional. “Right, I'm sorry to make you all wait. Especially you, Mr. Birch. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Corin chuckled, a thickly rich sound. “She's so much like you, Gabby,” he said, eyeing my mother. “That same charming mask when she's trying to impress someone.” His sly smirk was oddly familiar.

That comment struck me as rude, and out of place. My mother shifted in her seat, not looking at me. “Mr. Birch,” she said flatly. “How much longer do we have to wait for your son to arrive?” His son? Corin's smile twitched. “I'm sure Abram is on his way. We already waited half an hour, what's a bit more?” “Excuse me,” I said, lifting my hands and spreading my fingers. “Your son is coming here?” I'd only ever heard about Corin Birch's son, but the rumors weren't very flattering. Reckless, alcoholic, arrogant with an addiction to wild sex... I didn't want to meet Abram, why would my parents want to? My dad kept his gaze on the tabletop. “We'll explain everything once he's arrived.” I laughed warily. “I thought this was a business meeting, but everyone is acting strange. Where are all the other execs, what's really going on here?” “Calm down, Nichole,” my mother hissed. Palming my forehead, I looked straight at Corin. He had his fingers steepled patiently in front of him. “Mr. Birch, please, can you explain what's going on here?” Before he could answer, the door opened. Twisting, I looked at the man who swayed—swayed —into the meeting. He had his thumbs hooked in his pockets, a leather belt enhancing the fitness of his lower

stomach. I could see his muscles through his shirt and open jacket. The sun that filtered past the windows turned the blue of his eyes into crystals. Comfortable, calm, and undeniably handsome. Abram Birch. Abell. The man I'd hooked up with last night. Oh shit, I thought, meeting his surprised stare. Abell paused, recognizing me and obviously not expecting to. Slow as fresh honey, a smile spread over his face. “Well, hey there.” Everyone was watching me. A fierce blush rolled up my neck. “You're Corin Birch's son? You?” Fuck fuck fuck what the hell had I done. Corin made a gruff noise. “Glad you could make it, Abram.” “No problem,” he said. “I thought I'd have something to... keep me busy this morning, but that didn't pan out.” He hadn't stopped looking at me since he'd entered. Even now, he kept watching me as he answered his father. My heart was in overdrive; I couldn't breathe. Torn between feeling humiliated or furious, I bit my tongue and squeezed my knees. Everything was spinning, my world wobbly. Why did it have to be him that I'd hooked up with? And why the hell were we all here!? “Have a seat,” Corin said. “Then we can get started.”

Putting his hand on a chair across from me, Abell slid into it. “You could have started without me. You never needed me at any of your meetings before.” Corin glanced at him, his eyes hard. “I need you this time.” My father rocked side to side uncomfortably. “Let's get this over with.” “Get what over with?” I asked, breaking my silence. Holding a hand over her mouth, my mother breathed out loudly. Then she opened her briefcase, placing a stack of papers on the table between her and Corin. “You explain it,” she mumbled. This was all wrong. I'd been to many meetings for our company, and not once had everything been so private or tense. This felt as if I'd stumbled into something... dangerous. Corin pulled the papers closer, flipping them, reading the tiny words. “You don't want to be the one to explain to your daughter what her choices are?” I leaned closer. “Choices? What's written in there, what's happening?” “Mr. Birch—Corin,” my mother hissed. “Please. Don't drag this out.” “Fine. As you wish.” He lifted his eyes, fixing them on me. “Miss Halloway,” he said, “Tell me, how long have you worked for your parents' company?” Under the table, something touched my foot. I startled, realizing it was Abell's shoe. He was trying to

rub my ankle. Eyeballing him with a warning, he winked, clearly not bothered by my irritated frown. Ignoring him, I said to his father, “I've legally worked here since I was seventeen. But I've been here constantly since I was a child, doing anything they wanted—anything they'd let me.” Corin's smile was indulgent. “So you enjoyed working here?” “Of course!” Nothing felt more satisfying than figuring out what another company needed to increase their success. Marketing was a game, but it had rules and I'd ingrained those rules after years of hard work. Some of my tension melted as I dipped into this familiar territory. “It's how I spend all of my time. It's my life.” “And,” he went on, “You expected that someday, you'd take over? Inherit all of this, being an only child?” I wasn't technically an only child, but Gram had no chance of inheriting anything. Scrunching up my eyebrows, I asked, “Wait, 'expected?' That's what's going to happen.” Paranoia raced through my blood. I stared at my parents. “Right? I... that's my future, isn't it? CEO of Halloway Inc?” They said nothing. I let my tone get louder. “That's what you always told me. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on—why is he asking about my future?”

Abell rocked back in his chair, but he was no longer smiling. All of us were feeling the heaviness in the air. “Nix,” my dad whispered. “Let him finish.” His face was pale. Sweat poured down my neck, I looked back at Corin expectantly. He slid the papers to me, nodding at them. “Miss Halloway, you'll find your answers in there.” Turning the stack around, I read the words. “This is a contract,” I said slowly, reading deeper as I flipped the pages. “It says that... no. It can't be.” In disbelief, I gawked at my parents. “You sold the majority of the company to Birch Industries? To him? Why didn't you tell me?” My mother's lips were fiercely puckered. “It was over twenty years ago. We needed the money Corin had, or we would have gone completely under.” Abell's chair creaked as he adjusted in it. “Why is this only coming up now?” I had the same question. Staring at Corin, I bent to read further. What I came across in that document made me start laughing. I knew I sounded unhinged, but I didn't care. The contents of that contract were pure insanity. “This is a joke,” I said, smiling in a way that never reached my eyes. “You're all messing with me.” “No,” Corin said. “It's not a joke. Not even a little bit.” Waving the papers, I tossed them at Abell. “Read that. Go on, read what it says.” A joke, I told myself firmly. A

giant fucking joke. Abell turned the pages, and when he reached what was making me laugh, he froze. “This is a joke. It says her and I are supposed to—” “Get married!” I cut him off, pushing my chair away from the table. “Isn't that hilarious? They expect me to marry you, of all people, so that your father will return the majority ownership to my parents!” Insanity. Ridiculous. I couldn't, even for a second, allow myself to think this was real. My mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “That's what I agreed to when he loaned us the money. Corin wants you to marry his son and give him a grandchild.” “It's a giant fucking joke,” I nearly shouted. She scowled and said, “Don't overreact.” “Overreact!” Throwing my hands up, I looked at them one by one. “You're trying to tell me that after all these years of killing myself for this company, years of working with the expectation that I'd take it over someday, that now I could lose everything, and you want me to not overreact?” My mother shut her eyes, saying nothing. Corin sighed. “Miss Halloway, this is all very real, and all very serious.” “Fine,” I said, crossing my arms. “This contract is impossible to enforce. You can't make people marry

each other or get pregnant! This isn't the eighteenhundreds.” He nodded. “True. I can't force you to marry Abell. However, you're deciding your fate—and the fate of everyone working for this company. Marry him, give me a grandchild, or watch as I absorb this company and remove everyone you know and care for from its property. Including you and your family.” Cold prickles grew along my spine. He was serious. This would change everything about my world. Lifting my chin, I stared Corin down. Then, I turned towards his son; the man I'd slept with last night. A man everyone here expected me to sleep with again. Marriage? A baby? That wasn't the future I'd been chasing. But if I didn't agree, they'd rob me of the one thing I'd run myself into the ground for. Not just me. My parents... And Gram. What was I supposed to do? “You,” I said, gesturing at Abell. “You're being really quiet. Aren't you upset? This affects you, too. Don't you realize that?” His eyebrows went up. “I'm not stupid, of course I know it affects me.” Suspicion infected me. “Did you know this was going to happen?” He didn't act like he recognized me last

night, or this morning, but... Abell curled his lip in disgust. “I had no fucking clue.” “Then say something! Tell me what you're thinking!” “About which part?” he asked, tilting his head. “The bit where I'm supposed to marry you, or the part where, if I don't, I lose nothing?” I opened my mouth, but Corin spoke first. “You misunderstand, Abell. If you don't marry her, I'll happily cut off your access to my money. It's about time you learned to stand on your own, anyway.” Shock burned through Abell's expression. “Is that so? How fucking considerate of you.” My sourness was briefly relieved by Abell's situation. Good, let him see how it feels to be threatened. I didn't want to delight in his misfortune, but it was nice to have someone in the same shoes as me. “You're awful,” I said softly, seething. “All of you. How can you plan my future like this? How can you just decide I'm supposed to marry a guy like... like him?” I threw my arm out to indicate the tattooed man. Abell's lips slid into a neutral line. “A guy like me?” Then, a wicked smirk took over his face. “Why do you think 'a guy like me,' who can have any woman, would want to marry you?” Tensing up, I felt my jaw drop open. He wouldn't want to marry me? Don't think about what he said, that's

not important! What did I care if he rejected me? I wasn't marrying anyone! I had dreams, goals, so much to do... And settling down to pop out babies wasn't in my cards. Breathing in sharply, I stood out of my seat. “I'm done with this. I'm not going to sit here and let you turn me into some brood mare.” “Nix,” my father gasped, reaching for me. “Think about what you're doing! If you don't agree to marry him, we'll lose everything!” I knew he was right, but the disgust—the rage inside of me—was burning away any part of me that could be patient enough to debate this. “I can't agree to anything,” I snapped. “Not here, not without—I don't know, some time to think!” My mother spoke, but her eyes stayed on her lap. “If you'd read the contract closer, you'd see you have time. Nothing is final until the day of the wedding passes.” “The day of the wedding,” I laughed bitterly. “Great. Fantastic. When is that?” “One month from tomorrow,” Corin said calmly. One month. That was all I had. Abell lifted his hand in the air. “Isn't that sort of fast?” I grabbed the door handle, shoulders hunched. Again, my father called out to me. “Where are you going?”

Gritting my teeth, I glared at him. “I already said I wasn't going to sit here while you guys wrapped me up like a present to hand over to a manwhore like him!” Abell didn't hide the low boil of distaste that filled his glare. What I'd said or how I'd said it, I'd managed to piss him off. Let him be mad, I thought firmly. It was his family that had set out to ruin my life. They thought they could force my hand, but I wasn't going to let anyone choose my future. Without looking back, I slammed the door on all of them.

- Chapter Three Abell

That woman was a piece of fucking work. Manwhore? Sure, I'd been called that name and worse before, but somehow when she'd said it—her tone seething with disgust—it had hit me hard. So fuck her, I didn't need her to like me. My father had dropped a bomb I'd never expected. For years, I'd lived comfortably on the money my family had earned. I never wanted for anything, women and expensive toys were at my fingertips. And now that's all going to vanish. Well, unless I married Nix Halloway. How could I marry anyone, let alone her? She'd made it clear, she wanted nothing to do with me. It didn't seem to matter that I'd made her squeal and whimper as she came. This woman had 'standards' and she didn't think I met them. My father really expects me to not only marry her, but to get her pregnant? Did he not know me at all? “Abram.”

Looking up, I spotted Corin heading my way. I'd left soon after Nix had, stealing into an alley behind the building. The cigarette between my fingers glowed like a beacon. I didn't smoke often, just when I was super pissed. “You still call me that,” I said, flicking ash away. “You know I hate that name. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you insist on using it.” “You're angry,” he started, “I get it—” “Angry?” I chuckled. “Not at all, why would I be? You've just blackmailed me into knocking up a woman I barely know.” A woman with a fiery mouth and a killer ass. Thinking about her positively was bad, it didn't help me one bit. He stood an arm's length away, hands folded across the front of his suit. “I don't see why this is such a big deal. Last I heard, you've been busy sleeping with anything that'd give you the time.” “That doesn't mean I'm okay with being forced into it.” Tossing the cigarette, I crushed it under my shoe. “Tell me why you're doing this. What's the goal? You already own their company, this song and dance with marriage is pointless bullshit.” “My reasons are my own.” “That's classic you, right fucking there.” Staring me down, he turned partially away. “You're going to get the girl to marry you, Abram. Do you

understand that?” “You want a grandkid that bad and this is the only way to get me to do the deed for you, huh?” “Never mind what I want. If you want to keep being a playboy, running around without worrying who's responsible for paying your bills, you'll get this ring on her finger.” He slid a small box from his pocket, shoving it into my chest. I clutched it, caught off guard. Cracking the lid, I saw the diamond wedding band inside. “Wait. You want me to marry her, but you also want me to keep fucking other women?” Laughing without humor, I resisted chucking the box back at him. “Okay, I'm officially confused. This isn't some attempt to get me to settle down?” He watched me without any emotion, eyes as flat as dusty glass. “This isn't about punishing you, it's about punishing her.” “Nix? What the hell did she do?” “No. Not her.” Confused, I looked on as he strode away. Once he'd rounded the corner, I slammed my forearm against the brick wall. My father and I had never gotten along, suddenly he wanted me to do something for him? I understood when I was being used. Still, I thought, rubbing my tingling skin. What he's asking me to do... Could I really marry Nix, but still keep up my lifestyle? She'd be my wife on paper, but I'd be free

to run around, banging who I wanted, spending money on whatever I desired. She'd get to keep access to her family's company, too. Honestly, this was starting to look like a win win. I didn't want to be married, the idea of it didn't match who I was. If it was the only way to maintain the fun wave I'd been riding for years, though, what choice did I have? Lifting the velvet box, I frowned. If my father seriously doesn't care if I'm loyal to this girl once the papers are stamped, then he isn't out to hurt me. He also said he wasn't punishing Nix. What is he trying to accomplish? I had no clue what was going on behind the scenes, but I did know this: If I wanted to keep my cash, I had to coerce Nix Halloway into tying the knot. Thinking of that woman filled me with mixed emotions. She'd been delicious in bed, then cold and distant when she woke up. I hadn't really expected to see her again, but when I had, she'd turned into a stuck up bitch who hated my guts. Clenching my fist, I breathed in deep. The way she rolled her hips under me, how her pussy hugged my cock... So what if she hated me? You don't need to like someone to fuck them. No. We didn't need to like each other at all for this to work.

Stuffing the ring deep in my jacket pocket, I saw the plan forming in my mind. I was going to marry Nix. I'd make her long for me, like I had last night. I'd force her to scream and moan. Then, once she was addicted to what I could do to her body, Nix would be begging me to marry her. She was going to be mine in every possible way a woman could be. I just had to do the one thing I was good at.

- Chapter Four Nix

I was fucking furious. Rounding the hallway, I spotted my half-brother at the end. He looked up at the sound of my stomping heels. I started to veer towards him, ready to seek comfort—to cry and berate our parents—when something stopped me. Gram's eyes were glistening with guilt. For a moment my knees locked up. No. It can't be. But I was sure it was true. He wore his emotions on his sleeve. Snatching the fabric of his jacket, I yanked him into en empty office and slammed the door behind us. “You knew something bad was going to happen in there!” The words tumbled free. “How could you not warn me?” His hands went up in defense. “Nicky, please, what could I have said?” “I don't know!” Palming my forehead, I breathed through my nose loudly. All the fight went out of me; I was too exhausted. “Sorry. I don't mean to get upset at you, it's not like you did anything wrong. I just... a heads up that I was walking into an ambush would have been nice.”

“I didn't realize it was an ambush, just something strange, what with my dad and Gabby and Mr. Birch sitting inside all alone, waiting for you.” “Something strange is putting it mildly.” He put a hand on the back of his skull. “So, what did they say, what happened?” Sticking the heels of my palms against my eyeballs, I laughed sarcastically. “Well, nothing too huge. They just expect me to marry a stranger who's known for sleeping around, and if I don't, everyone here loses their jobs. Oh! And I'm supposed to give the Birch family a grandkid!” Gram was silent. I pulled my hands away to find him staring at me in horror. I smiled sadly and said, “Yeah. That's the face I made, too.” “Nicky. That's... how can they do that?” Pacing the room, my voice grew tense. “They're blackmailing me, that's how. Legally I can't be made to do shit. But if I don't, I'll never become CEO! Everything I worked for, just... just gone! Over with!” “Being forced into a marriage like this isn't worth any level of job status.” “It's not just the status. It's time. Energy.” Running my fingers through my hair, I gave a manic grin. “I killed myself for this company. How can I walk away from it? Lose everything that was waiting for me? I had the

potential to be something! Taking that away isn't right! And what about my promise to you?” His smile was stale. “Oh, Nicky, that doesn't matter.” “No.” Stepping forward, I grabbed his shoulders. I needed him to see the severity in my expression. I took my promises seriously, and the one I'd made to Gram years ago—when I'd stumbled in on him crying after my mother had berated him over being useless—had been the most serious of all. I loved my brother dearly, and he deserved some karma for everything he'd gone through. “I told you,” I said firmly, “When I become CEO, you can stop scraping your nose on the ground around our parents. I'll be in charge, you won't have to feel so... so uncomfortable here.” “Listen,” he said, “Do what's best for you. That's all you should think about.” It didn't make sense. People should always fight for their future, why wouldn't Gram? I'd always pictured Gram and I running this place, I trusted him more than anyone. What if I couldn't give him that future anymore? “But I promised,” I whispered. Shrugging, he reached out for me. On impulse, I leaned in, embracing the hug as fiercely as he did. “It's only money,” he said against my scalp. “I'd find a new job. So would you. So would everyone.” Everyone.

How selfish was I being? There were hundreds of people relying on their jobs here, and Gram wanted me to do whatever I felt was right. He wasn't interested in forcing me to marry someone, and he had a lot to lose if I didn't go through with it. I need to think about how my choice affects others. Marriage would let me keep the company. I could become CEO, let everyone remain financially secure. I could have everything I'd always wanted. And something I don't want. Abell. That bastard. I'd get the company in the long run, but in the short run, I'd be dealing with him. Giving Gram one more hug, I stepped out of his big arms. “I need to get out of here. If I see Mom or Dad right now, there's no telling what I'll do.” He chuckled, looking over my head and out the open door. “Better go, then, here they come.” I spun, seeing them facing away at the end of the hall. “Dammit.” “Go,” he said, “Before I have to explain to Security why you gave the heads of the company black eyes.” Laughing, glad he'd eased the mood, I backed out the doorway. “Alright, see you later. And... thanks. I mean that.” In a rush, I fled down the hall as fast as my heels would let me go. Gram was my brother, no matter how my parents treated him. He'd always been good to me, and though I

couldn't do much for him, someday... if I was CEO... I could give him anything he wanted. I just had to do the one thing I dreaded. Rounding the corner of the building, I headed down the sidewalk. It wasn't even noon yet, but the New York sun was smudged behind thick grey clouds. December was looking more grim than the cheerful decorations on the street lights wanted to suggest. I hope the Metro isn't packed. Though I could afford a car, I didn't own one. I'd never learned to drive. That never got in my way, though. I had public transport, or the convenience of private car companies. Parking in this city was a nightmare, so personally, I felt blessed not to own a giant metal monster. It's time to go home. A hot shower and clean clothes are waiting for me. Once I'd gotten out of my sweaty outfit, I'd be able to think clearly. And I had a lot think about. Eyeing the big fluffy clouds, wondering if we'd get snow, I walked right into something solid. “Aah!” I cried out, my balance going off kilter. Stumbling backwards into traffic, I had no way to stop my momentum. Shit shit shit! All those thoughts about cars, and now, one of them was going to crush me in the street. There had to be some irony in that. I'm going to die! I...

Strong hands grabbed me, circling my lower back while squeezing my wrist. “Easy there,” a voice chuckled. I knew that voice. Lifting my eyes, I stared at Abell's intimately close face. There were electric blue flecks in his irises, his broad, fit body casting a shadow over me darker than the storm clouds above. When I gasped, his scent swarmed my head—maple pancakes and pine. He smelled like a damn bed and breakfast out in some quaint countryside. My stomach even rumbled a little, a fact that made me turn red. Both of us looked down at his hand where it was gripping mine. Yanking myself free, I put some space between us. I rubbed my wrist, feeling his warmth linger. “You,” I said, hating how breathy I sounded. “What are you doing here?” He jerked a thumb to the side, indicating a yellow Ferrari. “This is where I parked. Why are you still here? You booked it out of that meeting over twenty minutes ago. I figured you'd be as far away as you could get by now.” My blood was still rumbling from my near death by passing cars. Wiping my clammy palms as casually as I could on my jacket, I forced them to stop quaking. “I got pulled aside for... business reasons. I am in charge at this office, after all.” No way I'm telling him about my talk with Gram.

He bowed his head slightly. “Not surprising, you were trying to take 'charge' with me all night.” The reminder of our hookup brought new thoughts into my skull. They popped like bubbles, but I didn't enjoy the contents. This is the guy I need to marry if I want to keep my future. Everyone's future. He stood in front of me in distressed jeans and an open leather jacket. Beneath it he was clad in a pale grey, too-tight-because-the-world-needs-to-know-he-has-arocking-bod T-shirt. And he did have a rocking bod. I'd seen it in all its glory. Last night, Abell had pressed against me so firmly I'd expected his tattoos to leave ink stains on my skin. For all of his issues, he had some good qualities. Too bad they were all bedroom related. The rumors about his entitled nature and arrogant, over-sexed personality were pretty easy to believe. Whenever anyone at the office brought up Birch Industries, the girls would inevitably start whispering about the 'bad boy son' of Corin Birch. Of course, they called him Abram, because no one had met him in person long enough to know what he preferred to be called. One time, my secretary had been gossiping that he'd gotten arrested for indecent exposure. Apparently,

according to her—and the internet—he'd been fucking two models on a yacht, and when they'd pulled into port, he'd kept it up... right on the front deck for the world to see. She'd offered to show me photos, but I'd turned her down. If only I'd let her, I mused. Then I would have recognized Abell. I could have avoided sleeping with him. Ugh. He yanked me from my thoughts. “You were wrong, you know.” I blinked. “Huh? Wrong about what?” His smirk was jagged. “You swore you'd never see me again.” I bit my tongue, trying to think of a response. My silence just goaded him on. “Don't you remember?” he asked. “Here, let me jog your memory. I was naked, you were naked, we were in my bed after a long night of wild, rough sex and—” “Stop!” I hissed, glancing side to side. There were too many people walking along the sidewalk, including potential employees or clients from Halloway Inc. I didn't want them to hear about my escapades. “Just shh! Of course I remember.” His smile was way too pleased. “Then you remember our bet.” For a long while I stared at him. This morning was a vivid memory; his hand on his hidden, but obvious,

erection, that seductive grit in his voice as he purred at me. “The bet,” I blurted out. “You mean...” “The date, yeah.” He leaned closer, his lips unfairly within kissing distance. “I think you owe me dinner, but I'll accept lunch. How about it? I heard your stomach growling minutes ago.” With one finger, he traced upwards from the top of my pants to just below my breasts, pulling away. “I know you're hungry.” Clutching my stomach protectively, I felt my heart racing. I wasn't going to tell him that the growling had been my reaction to his delicious scent. “Lunch? Now?” He shrugged casually. “We can get to know each other better. It'd be good for both of us, what with our eventual tying the knot.” The reminder of my doomed situation turned my fluttering chest into a tangle of cold elastics. I twisted my hand in my shirt, dropping my arm to the side. “I know plenty about you, Abell.” “I think you know what I'm like with my clothes off, but I'm more than just eye candy.” Shaking myself, I pointed a finger at him. “It doesn't matter. There's not a chance in hell that I'm marrying you, and a lunchtime get-together wouldn't fix that.” Liquid sin invaded his voice. “I don't know. I did win the last bet, I think I'm on a lucky streak.” His cockiness blew my mind. “You honestly think you can convince me to marry you?”

“I think I can convince you to do a lot of things,” he chuckled wickedly. Trying to ignore the warm tingles that had grown between my legs from his dark promise, I shook myself. “I don't get it. Why would you want to do this? Doesn't it bother you that your father is forcing you to get married?” A flash of genuine anger crawled through his stare. “Of course it pisses me off.” Reaching into his pocket, he dug out some keys. “But it'd piss me off more to lose my lifestyle.” Of course. He wants to fuck around and be a playboy king. A rush of confusing jealousy and disgust hit me. Why the hell did I care if he loved being a manwhore? It bothers you because you don't want to get mixed around with a guy who enjoys that kind of wild lifestyle. Yeah. That was all it was. Sourness invaded my voice. “Guess it's all about the money and random sex for you.” “Correction. Copious amounts of random sex.” Grinning, he clicked a button on his keys; the car revved loudly as it started. “Isn't it the same for you? The money, I mean. Not the sex. Or maybe the sex. You tell me.” Flushing, I watched as he walked around to open the passenger door. “You're wasting your time flirting with me. You can't make me want to marry you.”

“Oh, I think I can.” Running his finger along the top of the car, he winked. “Isn't it clear that I hate you?” “A little thing like 'hate' won't stop me from getting what I want.” The inviting, obvious lust mixing in his gaze had me shifting from heel to heel. I swallowed uncomfortably. “I don't want to go out for lunch. I just want to go home and change out of these clothes, take a shower.” He tilted his head. “Fine. Let me give you a lift.” My jaw slid open, then I clicked it shut. “You're determined to get me in your car.” Smiling, he tapped the roof. “It's just a ride, and it'll be faster than the metro. Come on, I won't bite—well, okay, you know that's not true.” The hairs on my neck stood up. “Stop talking about last night!” Abell's stare stuck on me like glue. “I think I found your weakness, but I wouldn't of taken you for a shy girl. Especially,” he said, his voice getting louder, “With the way you shoved me against my apartment door, grinding against my cock before we even got inside and —” “Shut up shut up!” I shouted, waving my arms. His teeth glinted in the sun. “I will, if you get in the car.” Looking around warily, I moved to his side. “Fine! Give me a ride home if it means that much to you.” Did

this man have no shame? The inside of the car was a rich auburn, the seat helping me sink deep in an attempt to relax me. It probably worked on most people, but not me. I was so tense that I had to actively push into the headrest just to touch it. Otherwise, my tight spine would keep me hunched forward. Abell climbed in beside me, looking me up and down. “You can chill out, I'm not going to crash us into a building or something.” I wasn't worried about a crash. I was worried about what the hell I was doing. “Just drive,” I mumbled, pointing through the crystal-clear windshield. “My apartment is over on Cordova.” He pulled into traffic, taking us smoothly through the jammed downtown roads. I stared out the window, trying to avoid scanning the side of Abell's face. His skin was so smooth, the sun could bounce off of it and blind someone. I darted my attention back to the buildings before he could catch me peeking. I was caught off guard when his elbow brushed my knee. That simple touch sent ripples of heat down my thighs. They radiated outwards, my belly flipping and tightening simultaneously. One night together, and my very being remembered how good he'd felt. My body was my enemy.

Abell kept moving, leaning further across me. Wrenching back in my seat, I spoke around my numb tongue. “What the hell are you doing?” Is he trying to make a move on me, right here, right now? He popped the glove compartment, holding up a case of CDs. “You like rock music, right?” I sat there and held my breath. “I—what? How do you know that?” Arching his eyebrows high, Abell laughed. “The concert last night. Unless you were there because you hate rock music.” Disoriented and unable to stop myself, I said, “I like rock, but I wasn't there for the band.” He squinted, pushing a CD into the player. “Don't tell me you were there to serendipitously save that girl.” Chewing my lower lip, I twiddled a strand of hair between my fingers. “Forget it.” “Come on, it can't be that bad.” Sighing, I looked away from him. The last thing I wanted was to see him smiling all smug at what I was going to say. “I was out on a date, alright?” “I didn't see you with anyone.” “How could you?” I laughed bitterly. “The asshole never showed up.” There, now tell me I deserved it, or what a bitch I must be for that to happen. “That's terrible,” he said flatly, pushing the breaks so we stopped at a red light. “What kind of a dick stands a beautiful woman up?”

Beautiful? Baffled, I twisted my neck to look at him. His knuckles were crushing the steering wheel, eyes so fiercely blue they could have turned the world to ice if he stared long enough. “It takes a brutally empty heart to abandon someone.” There was a ringing in my ears. I couldn't stop staring at his tight frown. He agreed with me? Why would a guy who sleeps around care about anyone's feelings? The traffic moved, jostling us both. Blinking my fog away, I looked at the CD player. Reaching over, I tapped the buttons until a song I liked began to play. I think he was stealing glances at me as I did it, but I didn't have the guts to check. We said nothing more until he pulled up outside of my apartment. “Here we are,” I said. “Thanks for the lift.” Climbing free, I slammed the door. I had to get away from that bubble of him. The whole car was packed with his essence; warm and intoxicating. A second car door clapped shut. Abell had hopped out, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. “I could use some coffee, do you have any?” With wide eyes, I looked at him in disbelief. “You're not coming inside.” “Sure I am.” “No, you're not.” Shaking my head briskly, I walked towards the steps. “Why would I invite you inside?”

Abell followed behind me closely. “You saw the inside of my place, it's called fairness.” “Excuse me?” “Fairness, you know, when—” “I know what fairness is.” Scowling, I dug my keys out of my pocket, unlocking the door. “People don't trade home visits like dinner checks.” He put a hand on the wall, leaning there. “They should. The world would be a friendlier place.” I didn't want to get 'friendlier' with Abell Birch. Yanking my door open, I gave him a warning glare. He just smiled back at me. The guy could smile his way out of a knife fight. Hovering over me, he said, “If you make us some coffee, I'll count it as our date.” On some level, I was aware that I owed this man nothing. But I liked to keep my word, and I had promised him a date if we saw each other again. If we do this now, I can get it over with. He'll have no leverage over me. Analyzing him, I said, “You're incredibly determined.” “You have no idea.” Pausing, I waved him inside. “Fine. One cup of coffee.” Why did that sound familiar? Just one drink. Right. I'd been trying so hard to run away from all of the stress and frustration in my life last night, that I'd

kept drinking with Abell. It had been spontaneous— tempting. The adrenaline high from standing up to the attempted rape, then Abell's blatant flirting... I don't know. He'd just made the idea of running from my stress, just for one night, so appealing. I'd let it go too far, but that wouldn't happen again. Coffee was safe, no one hooked up on coffee dates. Did they? Dropping my jacket onto the couch, I set my keys on the granite counter-top of my kitchen island. My place was the perfect size, in my opinion, for someone like me. I didn't have parties, I owned no pets, so I needed very little. Most of my time was spent at work. “Make yourself comfortable,” I said, setting up the coffee maker. The scent of the grinds filled my nose, making me smile. Abell unzipped his jacket, but that was the extent of his 'getting comfortable.' “Nice place, your parents pay for it?” Stunned, I nearly dropped the mug I'd picked up. “That's a little forward.” “That's what you find forward?” Leaning on the fridge, he crossed his ankles. “Money-talk should only happen between friends, and we're not even acquaintances, Abell.”

“After letting me bury my fingers in your sweet pussy, we're beyond acquainted.” I was on fire, my kitchen too small, too hot suddenly. “Yes, my parents pay for this.” “I'm guessing they pay for everything.” Shaking my head, I propped against the sink across from him. “I work for my money, they don't pay for everything.” He cracked his knuckles, watching me in his intense way. “It's their company, technically, whatever they pay you belongs to them.” Lines pulled over my forehead. “If you want to be precise, your dad owns their company, now.” My blunt observation hung in the air. The only sound was the constant percolating of the coffee machine. Abell breathed in slowly, as if he was thinking about what to say. “Yeah. I guess he does. But he won't, if you do what he's asked.” Laughing louder than I meant, I pulled the pot of coffee off the burner, filling the two mugs I'd placed nearby. “You act like it's so simple.” “Isn't it? Think about how your life will change if you don't marry me.” “It'll change no matter what I choose.” I motioned for him to step aside so I could get into the fridge. When he did, I pulled out a carton of heavy cream. “Your motivation is really obvious, Abell. You said you want to keep living your life as King of the Playboys.”

Grinning, he waved away my offer of cream, sipping the black coffee. “That's not how I phrased it. Why do you make it sound so awful, what's wrong with sex?” Pouring enough of the white liquid into my mug to turn the coffee pale, I said, “Nothing.” My cheeks burned, the discussion making me uneasy. “Sex is fine. But sex with all those people you don't even know? How can that be satisfying?” “You didn't know me. Wasn't it satisfying for you?” Looking deep into my cup, I eyed my own reflection. Yes. It really was. But I couldn't admit that, so I just took a large mouthful of my coffee instead. “How much cream do you like?” he asked, clearly noticing how I'd drained the container. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “A lot, copious amounts.” His lips split into an angled grin. “Naughty girl.” “A jizz joke?” I laughed lightly. “If you're trying to get me flustered, you'll have to try harder.” Angling his head like a hawk, Abell set his cup down on the counter. Slowly, with purpose, he rounded the kitchen island until he was standing over me. On reflex I backed up, my thighs bumping the sink. I was trapped. “You shouldn't give me instructions,” he whispered, fingers circling my wrist just below my mug. “I'm the kind of guy that will listen. Telling me what I need to do to make you blush is dangerous.”

My mouth was suddenly dry, I couldn't even remember the taste of my drink. Abell ruled my senses. I could see where his eyelashes connected with the hooded lids of his heated eyes. I could even see the tiny lines across his perfectly smirking lips. We were too close, and I knew it, but my brain was firing wrong. Stop this, I told myself, Don't let him get to you. I had wanted to go home and think. There was so much riding on me, and I hadn't had the time to process it fairly. Abell was showing me he knew exactly how to take over my mind. His nearness was as good as a typhoon, demanding my attention and roaring that if I stayed or if I ran, the result would be the same. He would consume me. “Nix,” he said under his breath. “Y—yeah?” Smiling slowly, he ran his thumb in a circle around the underside of my wrist. “You're spilling coffee everywhere.” Glancing down, I saw that my floor was shining from the constant drip of my drink. Unconsciously, I'd been tipping it as I leaned towards Abell. I shook myself, realizing I'd been inches away from kissing him. I knew he'd taste like the tang of fresh brewed coffee. He'd be delicious, he'd—Stop! Reaching out with my other hand, I grabbed my mug and set it on the sink. Then, I peeled at his fingers; he let

me go reluctantly. “Abell, no, we aren't doing this.” “Doing what?” he asked, still hovering over me. His thigh touched mine, and I jumped. “This. I wasn't playing hard to get, I really have no plans to do anything with you. Ever,” I added for emphasis. Chuckling, he rubbed his leg on mine, sliding it inside my knee until we were twisted up like a pretzel. His hands came down on the counter behind me, halting any escape. “You're trying to tell me none of this is tempting you?” Unable to look away from his stare, my breathing became choppy. “I'm cold as a fish.” “Oh yeah?” His eyes flicked down, staring pointedly at my shirt. I followed his gaze, noticing what he had; my nipples were stabbing through the fabric. Biting my tongue, I searched for a response. “It's just chilly in here.” He twisted his lips together. “Then I'll have to warm you up.” Something was crushing into my hip, digging in hard. With my heart pressing into my ribs, I shut my eyes. I knew what was grinding against me so firmly. That's his cock. He had a hard-on thick enough to drill through his jeans. Abell whispered, “I never did get lunch. Maybe I could eat something else?”

Each time my heart thumped, it strangled my brain. This can't happen. Subconsciously, I rocked my body against his. Abell inhaled sharply, a small noise in his throat. His fingers coiled in my hair. Vibrations echoed through my bones, rolling into my pussy, my clit already so swollen I felt my panties rubbing it with every small shift of my hips. It felt amazing, and I knew, if I just... just let this happen, it'd be... Abell shrugged out of his jacket. As it hit my floor, something hard bounced free of the pocket, sliding on the tile. Blinking, I focused on the mystery object. It was black velvet, a tiny square. I knew, if I opened it, I'd find a ring. The sight of it sent me spinning. With all my strength, I shoved Abell away so hard he stumbled into the island. Air flooded my lungs, every breath tasting like him. “You need to leave,” I rasped, crushing the counter behind me; I needed something to hold me up. The surprise in his eyes rivaled the burning lust. Patiently, he straightened up. Then he reached down, adjusting his blatant erection. “You're sure?” Shifting on my heels, I could feel the wetness in my panties. “Get out.” Holding my chin as high as I could, I kept my voice steady. “Right now. Leave, Abell. I'm not some toy for you to fuck around with.”

“What,” he chuckled. “Did you want to stay pure until after our wedding? Because I have bad news for you.” My eyes fell to the velvet box, and he followed me, his expression going dark. “You brought a ring with you? Are you that confident I'll just say yes?” Not waiting for an answer, I pointed at the door. “Get out. Now.” Bending down, he plucked up the box, sliding it into his pocket. Languidly, he walked away, thumbs tucking into his belt. Over his shoulder he said, “We're going to have to make this work, and you know that. I want to keep what I have, and you want to keep access to your future. Pretending you're going to choose another option besides marrying me does us both a disservice.” Breathing in, I said nothing. Cracking the door, he stared at me. Just his eyes had my blood racing. With a final smile, Abell shrugged. “You should have let me stay. I would have eaten your pussy until you passed out.” The door shut softly behind him.

- Chapter Five Abell

The instant I was outside, I pushed my hands over my eyes and filled my lungs. This air was fresh, clean. Free of Nix. Fuck, I thought, She's like a wool blanket I can't shake off. I'd hoped to seduce her, begin my plan of getting her to marry me. The damn ring had messed that up, but... I had no control in there. It had gone out the window the second I'd gotten near her. It was good that she'd told me to leave. The detached nature of my usual flirting had cracked. When I'd touched her wrist, it had taken all I had not to twirl her around and rip her pants down to her ankles. I'd have been fucking her before she could put the mug of coffee down. I was aching to have her again. Did she notice? I wondered if my mask had been good enough. I couldn't let her see how hungry I was for her pussy, for the sounds she'd make. That would take my power away. I didn't remember the last time I'd wanted someone so badly.

Shaking myself, I gulped more air. The thumping in my ears faded, a calmness washing over me. Okay, there we go. Better. Ruffling my hair, I glanced back at her apartment. No. Not better. I need to get further away. Being so close was tempting me to bust back inside. If I did, I wasn't sure I could stop myself from ravaging her curves. Crushing my fists to my temples, I stomped towards my car. Driving would clear my mind, it always did. Slamming the door shut, I revved the engine violently. The rock music we'd been listening to together poured from my speakers, sliding into my veins and reminding me of Nix. The volume knob broke in my fingers from how hard I twisted it to turn it off. Blessed by silence, I threw the piece of plastic to the floor. The windows were down, the wind biting my cheeks as I pulled down the street. It was hard to go fast in New York, the city wasn't made for it, but I tried anyway. What happened back there? I asked myself, finally feeling the fog lift. It had started as my typical method, me using any lines I could to get the topic pointed at sex. The cream bit was too perfect. But then, the second I got within reach of her, the game had changed. Nix had her own gravity, I was floating in her orbit. All of her tiny sounds, subtle reactions, they pushed me

towards an edge. I didn't want to know what lay at the bottom of it. You need to use her. Remember how much she hates you. It was easier said than done. Nix had a fire inside of her, and while it scorched me, it also heated me up. I liked the attitude she had. The challenge of conquering her turned me on feverishly. Right. Conquer her. Rule her. Don't let her take over. I was the one in charge. I had to remind myself of that. This girl, she could never be more than a piece on the side. My wife in name, only. What am I so scared of? I asked myself, laughing out loud. She's nothing to me. I just got a little worked up back there. She's hot, that's not new, that's not unique. Nix was nothing special. And if I wanted to keep my loose and free lifestyle... She never could be.

- Chapter Six Nix

Clutching my chest, I stood by the sink long after Abell had left. Each breath was a struggle, I was hyperventilating. In my mind, one sentence played over and over. I almost kissed him again. I'd come so close! What was I thinking? Why was I so weak? Letting Abell drive me home was a mistake, but letting him inside was a damn catastrophe. He'd been a walking beacon of sex. His blue eyes had promised me perverse, delicious things. And his cock, rubbing up against my thigh... Turning around, I twisted the sink knobs. In desperation to escape this madness, I shoved my head right into the cold flowing water. “Ah!” I gasped, whipping my hair back, droplets flying around my apartment. I was soaked, but my brain was finally free. “I can't sleep with him,” I said to the empty room. “Never again. I just can't.” But how was I going to save my company? Or was I going to just give it all up? He brought a ring with him.

Abell wasn't playing around. He'd said he meant to marry me, to use me to keep his money, and he was serious. I was nothing to him, but... he was nothing to me. A guy like him was bad news. All he wants from me is sex. The visual that brought —his muscles flexing, his cock ruddy with desire—had me shivering. All I want is... What? My company, I told myself. I can't lose that. But marrying Abell and being forced to give his father a grandkid, that was too much. The memory of sleeping with Abell had me recalling the condoms spilling from his bedside table. I couldn't imagine needing so many. If I marry him, I won't be seeing condoms. Abell would fuck me, filling me with cum. That taboo realization had my heart throbbing almost as much as my clit. Stop it! You can't sleep with him! But I did have to marry him. It was the only way to keep everyone happy. Could we both get what we wanted without compromising? If I talk to Abell, tell him I'll marry him as long as we never consummate it... Could that work? I walked towards my bathroom, pulling my clothes off as I went. We could lie.

Gripping the doorway, I grinned. It'd be easy enough. Get married, then say we're 'trying' to get pregnant, but it isn't working. That happened to people all the time! How could we be blamed if it didn't work out? Surely, the contract wouldn't be broken because of a 'biological' issue? Feeling like a genius, I turned my shower on until the room billowed with steam. I hurried to wash up, eager to remove the day-old sweat. I know what I have to do. The plan I had gave me a sense of control. After almost giving in to Abell like I had... I needed all the control I could get. **** When my alarm went off the next morning, I was ready for it. Jumping out of bed, I stretched my arms wide, yawning. Through the white curtains of my bedroom window, the sun was a welcome beacon. Yesterday, I'd awoken in a stranger's bed. That had been the start of the worst day of my life. But today, I thought, beginning my precise morning routine, Today, things will be different. I wasn't excited about my plan, but it was a plan. That counted for something. Having a way to make this mess result in some resemblance to the future I'd meticulously worked

towards gave me a bit of strength. In my mirror, I brushed my hair until it shined. I'd always struggled with frizz, so I made sure to take extra time to get every strand in place. When I was finished, I'd tied my hair back in my typical bun; shiny and immaculate. I'd laid new clothes out last night. That way, they wouldn't get wrinkled. Even so, I ironed them for the second time. When I was done, they were stiff enough to cut a muffin in two. Speaking of which. Dressing carefully, I grabbed myself a cup of coffee from my pre-programmed machine, and then a cranberry muffin from the counter. I loved sweets, but thanks to my 'attentive' (as she called it) mother, I'd developed an odd relationship with them. She'd tried to ban them from my life. In subtle retaliation, I indulged in the treats whenever I could. Who could blame me? Desserts are fucking delicious. Washing my hands, I did a final check in the mirror. Yesterday, my parents had seen me in a state I never wanted to repeat. Being prim, proper, it reminded me that I was a Halloway. I had power, I had money, and I'd do what I had to in order to keep it. But I'm not like him, I told myself firmly. Abell wanted everything for himself. I wanted to be CEO not

just for me, but for Gram, too. I planned to keep my promise to him, to make his life better. That was what made me less selfish than Abell. I clung to that fact fiercely. Shoving into my jacket, I hurried out the door. I knew the exact time I had to be at the metro, and no way I was missing it. Today, I'd show my parents what I was made of. I was a Halloway. And we always achieved what we worked for. **** My heels chopped along the sidewalk as I exited the subway. I was striding, head held high—and then higher —when I spotted Halloway Inc. The building, my building, stood tall in the middle of the city. The red brick was brighter than the other structures surrounding it, a fact I was always delighted by. This was a company to be proud of. It'll be mine. Clenching my fist, I exhaled. The sight of the building had renewed my determination. Crossing the street, I shuffled through the automatic doors. The front desk was a half-moon of white wood, the man behind it busy talking on the phone. I knew his name was Conroy, I made it a point to try and learn the names of every employee.

I waved at him as he caught my eye. His pleasant smile was my reward. Turning the corner, I power-walked down the hall, ready to enter my mother's office. But I didn't need to go that far. She was standing right in the hall. My heart stuttered, confronted by the woman who had controlled me my whole life. I'd never known someone so intimidating. Don't be scared, just tell her what you're going to do! Forcing my head higher, I cleared my throat. “Mom.” Turning, she stopped staring at her phone. She was rarely without the thing, always typing away or talking to someone. “Nichole,” she said, lifting an eyebrow. “Good to see you're here on time today.” Crinkling my mouth, I bit back the comment I wanted to let fly. Focus. “Mom, listen. I need to talk to you about yesterday.” Her chest flared with her deep breath. “Yes. I imagine you do. Go on, are you here to tell me how horrible I am again?” The muscles along my neck and shoulders turned to steel. It was a wonder I could talk at all. Faced with her doubt, I wanted to show her she was wrong. She clearly thought I was a coward, or worse, a selfish brat. But I wasn't. I wouldn't be.

“I decided to agree to the marriage,” I said flatly. I'd hoped for her to be shocked. It would have been delicious to see that expression on her puckered face. I wasn't that lucky today, though. Fuck, was I ever lucky? Tilting her head, she stared down her nose at me. “You're serious, aren't you? You're really going to do this?” The smile I offered her was sour. “What choice do I have? Marrying Abell Birch is the only way to keep the company in our name, and for me to become CEO like I'm meant to be. I'm not losing that.” I've given up so much. What's a little more? She considered me for a long while. I wondered what she saw, what she thought about my decision. Her face was a polished mask, and it never flinched, not even when she pulled a piece of paper from her purse and handed it to me. “You'll need this.” I blinked at it. “What is it?” “Everything that needs to get done before the wedding.” The piece of paper was a detailed schedule. Food tasting for the reception, flowers for the ceremony... this was the outline for my own misery. I was being forced to wrap myself up in a pretty bow to be thrown to the wolves—or wolf. One with frosty eyes and a killer body. Reading the list, I shook my head in mild disgust. “You have appointments already lined up. You assumed

I'd say yes to this blackmail.” “I took precaution. It's good to be prepared.” “Right,” I said, tapping the spot that mentioned Macy's Bridal store. “It's important to prepare your daughter for her funeral gown.” “It's called a wedding dress. Do you always have to be so dramatic, Nichole?” Ignoring my glare, she handed me a small green envelope. Poking the sharp corner, I squinted at the gold seal and elegant writing that spelled my name. “Don't tell me this is a sample wedding invitation, I'm not inviting anyone to this mess.” Her mouth scrunched, like she'd eaten a handful of lemon rinds. “It's an invitation to the Birch's Christmas party. It's this weekend, you're going.” “You expect me to put on a cocktail dress and make nice with the guy who's selling me to his son?” My mother turned away, phone sticking to her ear as she avoided my attempt to burn a hole through her skull with my brain. “Speaking of dresses, don't you dare miss that wedding dress appointment next week. Find something that fits. You don't have much time to slim down, so your options will be limited.” Narrowing my eyes at her, I shoved the list and invitation into my purse. “Guess I'll just be stuck with whatever they can dig out from the back, then. Something that fits my apparently gigantic ass.”

When I turned away, I exaggerated my hips as I walked around the hallway corner. It was a ridiculous strut, over the top and straight out of some strip club dance routine. I wanted her to maybe get the sense that she was being horrible. She hadn't yet, but hey, there was still time. Why is she never satisfied with me! This feeling wasn't new, but it still stung. As a kid, my mother used to make me weigh myself every morning and night. If the number deviated greatly, she'd deny me dinner. I'd often go to bed hungry. Yeah. She was a real piece of work. “Nice walk,” a deep voice said. Turning, I gawked at Abell. He was lounging by the water cooler, crumpling a paper cup. His stare said he appreciated the way I'd been swaying around like an animal in heat. Stuttering, I said, “I—that—you don't understand.” “No need to defend yourself. I wasn't complaining.” Red from head to toe, I choked the strap of my purse. “Why are you here?” Abell rocked forward, coming my way. Suddenly he pulled up short, standing back further than usual. His smile wavered, eyes taking me in again. What the hell is wrong with him? Do I smell bad? He gathered himself, teeth glinting brightly. “I'm here to run into you.” “I actually was hoping to see you, too,” I said.

He gave me a look that implied he was more than happy to hear that. “You were angry with me last time we spoke, or was that just your way of flirting?” Instead of fighting with him, I motioned for Abell to follow me. Ducking into an empty hall, I made sure we were alone before rounding on him. “We need to talk about this marriage situation.” His chuckle slid over my heart, caressing it. “You already know where I stand, Sugar.” A tiny tremble took hold in my knees. Stay on target. “I've moved past the denial stage of this. Your father has my company by the throat, and I've worked too hard to lose everything. Marrying you is the last thing I want to do, but I'm open to making it work.” Abell had turned to stone, doubt contorting in his face. “You are?” Nodding, I held up a hand. “You want your money, I want my company. I just have one condition.” “Go on.” Lowering my voice, I bit off the words. “No. Sex. Ever.” His forehead crinkled dramatically. “In general?” “Between us!” I hissed, clenching my fists. “It'll be a sham marriage, get it? We'll do it on paper, but nothing else. It's the only way I'll agree to it.” “Didn't my father also demand I knock you up? Do you have a sham baby in your pocket, too?”

My throat went dry as old toast. “We'll tell him we're trying, when we aren't.” Scratching at his cheek, he asked, “What if I say no to your one condition?” “Jeez,” I laughed, “Do you want to sleep with me again that badly?” He smiled, saying plenty with just his eyes. Blushing furiously, I mumbled, “This is the only way I'll go along. I'm not going to subject myself to becoming someone's whore. I'd give the company up before that.” “Ouch.” Touching his hand over his heart, he sighed. “You make it sound like sleeping with me is a punishment.” “Just tell me you agree to my terms.” Abell looked down his nose at me. He was quiet, making me wonder what was going on behind his stoniness. Finally, he gave a tiny shrug. “When you beg me to fuck you, do I still have to resist?” My mouth fell open. “I'd never beg you to fuck me.” “You will.” His smirk could cut diamonds. “You definitely will. And when you do, my stipulation is that... I won't hold back.” A flutter crept through my body, building a home between my thighs. I squeezed them, ignoring how good the pressure felt. “You've got me all wrong. I'm not that desperate.” He gave me a long, intense look.

Breaking away, I said, “I already told my mother I was going along with the marriage.” Abell tilted his head, as if viewing me in a new light. “She'll let my father know, I imagine. Guess I don't have to spill the good news to him.” “Then we're done here.” Yanking out the list my mother made, I confirmed the time slots. That eager, cautious woman... she'd actually set up a meeting with a florist today. “I have an appointment to get to, see you later.” He pushed off the wall. “I'll come along.” Stumbling, I shot him a confused stare. “Why? It's just looking at flowers.” He hunched closer to me, I could hear him inhale. “Who knows, you might need a second pair of hands.” It took all of my strength to stop staring at his mouth. Grabbing my phone, I called for a private car. “I don't have the time to argue with you.” I need air, I need it now! Marching out the front of the building, I shielded my eyes from the sun. In mere minutes, a shiny black car pulled up against the curb. In my rush to escape Abell and all he represented, I opened the door, practically jumping inside. Phew, I thought in relief. I'd just buckled myself in when Abell slid into the backseat across from me. I stared at him in disbelief. Grinning, he clicked his seat belt. “Are you going to shove me out of the car?”

My driver twisted around, offering me a look that said he didn't know what to do, but would listen to my instructions. I shut my eyes tight. “I'll wait until we're in the middle of moving traffic before I kick you out.” Abell's laugh was low, scratchy—real. It was the first hint of something genuine beneath his surface, and it threw me for a loop. “You're staring at me,” he said. “Sorry.” I focused on anything else but the man sitting beside me. Don't get fooled by him. He's a player, that's all. The driver turned us onto Main street, taking us quickly towards the flower shop. It was a tiny building shoved onto a corner across from the mall, the front of it covered in painted vines and actual flowers. I slid from the car so fast that I banged my forehead on the edge of the roof. “Ow!” Cupping the tender spot, I winced. “You alright?” Abell asked, hurrying to my side. “Yeah. I just banged it, nothing major.” Lifting my eyes, I stood still as an ancient tree. Abell was leaning over me, his fingers pressing against my skin next to my injury. The concern in his stare left me baffled. His magnetic pull demanded I not look away. Brushing my hair back, he said, “Looks like you'll have a small bump. Does it hurt?”

The thumping of my heart was so loud, it blocked the rush of passing traffic. I struggled to make sense of what was happening. Abell was being so sweet, I was spiraling into a confused bubble. Just answer him! I said, “Um. No, it's okay. Just a little sore.” His arm fell, leaving me tingling where he'd touched. “It looks kind of red. Well, all of you looks red right now, actually.” Coughing, I spun around and walked stiffly into the shop. “L—let's get going!” Fuck, I fell apart just then! But his caring vibes had been too much for me. Was he playing with me, pretending to be concerned? The air was humid inside the store. Water spritzed from hanging pipes, plants glowing in bright greens, reds, and so much more. “Hello,” I said, spotting a woman behind a tiny counter. “I need to pick out flowers for... a wedding.” Saying it out loud had me fidgeting. “Ah,” she said, rounding the counter and approaching me. “Are you the lucky bride?” Pursing my lips, I peeked at Abell. “Lucky isn't the right word.” The clerk was oblivious to my sarcasm. “Well, look around and help yourself. You'll find we have flowers perfect for any event.” I wondered what kind of flowers you picked for an arranged marriage.

Something morbid, I thought with a smile. Did they have black roses? I'd have to look. Abell, who'd been rather quiet, reached out to cradle a hanging vine. “I didn't realize we were picking flowers for our wedding.” “My mother insisted I get it done quickly,” I mumbled. “Apparently, a month to get ready isn't much. Who would have thought.” He grinned, fingering the long vine so it coiled around his hand. “Cheer up, how can picking out flowers be depressing?” I gave him a flat look. “Flowers aren't my thing. Do you have some tricks to make it fun?” “Oh, I have tricks.” He tugged the leaves, then stroked them obscenely. “I don't think the florist would appreciate me using them on you.” I turned away before he could get a reaction out of me. “I'm ignoring that comment.” Unzipping my coat because of the humidity, I moved down an aisle. “Help me find something... weddingy, I guess. I could just pick white.” Abell followed me, his hands spreading his jacket wide, flapping it. “White would be boring. You want something more vibrant, ideally to match the dresses of your bridesmaids.” I stumbled, staring back at him. “First, I won't have any bridesmaids. Second, I didn't peg you for a guy who knew about complimentary colors.”

He placed his palm to his chest, making a face. “Art runs in my blood, give me some credit.” “I met your father, I wouldn't call him 'artsy.'” Abell's fingers clenched just slightly, but I caught it. “It's on my mother's side.” The edges of his usual smile had cracked. Had I touched something sensitive? Eager to push this awkward tension away, I clapped my hands. “Alright, Art-Master, what flowers would look best?” “For the wedding? Not a clue. But this...” Abell leaned close to a blue tulip, tapping it. “This would look gorgeous in your red hair. You have a fire in you, a cool color like this would enhance it.” His comment lacked the crassness he'd been indulging in since we'd first met. Seeing him like that, bending close to a fragile flower, eyes warm and welcoming... Why is my heart beating so fast? He pulled on one of the most wolfish grins ever. Like an animal, he stalked forward, his hand dropping away from the tulip. He whispered, “There it is, in your eyes, the fire I was talking about.” On reflex I stepped backwards, bumping the nearby table. The sound of water sloshing made us both stop in our tracks. In slow motion, I watched a bucket topple over the edge, right towards Abell. He tried to jump back, but he wasn't ready; the water spilled across the front of his shirt. “Shit!” he shouted.

“Oh no!” Cringing, I let my hands bob in the air, too unsure what to do with them. “I'm so sorry! I didn't even see that bucket!” He stretched his arms, pulling the soaked cloth across his chest. The water had turned his shirt transparent, dark ink and hard muscles peeking through. The perfection of his body among all the beautiful flowers was like some high-fashion modeling ad. Catching my breath, I stared straight at his stomach, following the dip of his abdominals into the top of his jeans. The edge of his briefs were visible, tattoos vanishing beneath the elastic band. I knew exactly what it looked like under there. Why the hell did I want to see it again? “Hey,” he chuckled. “My eyes are up here.” Flushing, I looked around frantically for a towel. “Uh, let me find something to dry you off with.” “It's fine. You didn't get my jacket, just the shirt.” He shrugged out of the jacket, then tugged the soaked shirt over his head, exposing his bare skin. Ever so casually, he nodded towards the front of the store. “I'll just zip it over me so I can walk out of here. Unless you prefer this look?” I was gawking again, but I didn't need him to point it out. Stumbling on my tongue, I said, “Sure. I mean, um, your jacket. Right. It should be fine!” Get it together! But how could I? Abell was impossibly sexy, and he was within touching distance.

If I reached out, I could run my palm right down his chest. Would it be warm, or cool from the water? He stepped close to me, and the floral cloud was broken by the pine and maple scent that came off of him. “Did you want something, Nix? Something from me?” My heart floated up, filling my throat. “No,” I managed to croak. “Nothing.” The corner of his mouth moved upwards. “The future owner of Halloway Inc shouldn't be such a liar. It's bad for business.” Abell's hand cupped my cheek, and where he touched, heat bloomed. In my ears, the drums pounded. My cells were buzzing, my body eager to climb onto his. I wanted to rub against him, I knew he'd be hard and soft all at once. Kiss him, my body demanded. It'd be so easy; he was right there, inches away, he... “Excuse me!” The florist shouted, rounding the corner. “Why is he stripping?” Retreating so fast I bumped the table again, I stared at the woman with my eyes bugging out. I knew I looked guilty—I felt guilty! What was I doing? What had I almost done? My mouth fell open. “He isn't stripping!” Abell grinned, reaching down to brush the button of his jeans. “I could, if you two want.” I wished I could find a big crack in the ground and crawl into it. Maybe I'd grow back as a weed! Weeds couldn't be humiliated!

The florist crossed her arms, her face a puckered knot. “I think you should tell me what flowers you want. Then you should leave.” “I'm so sorry,” I stammered, shooting a fierce glare at Abell. “I'll keep him on a leash next time.” His smile went ear to ear, boyish and amused. He's trying to be charming. Flicking my eyes up and down his exposed tattoos, I shivered as if I was the one covered in icy water. Fuck. He IS charming. Abell was inching his way past the barrier I'd set up in my heart. And I hated it. All of it. You should know better. Don't be so naive! I had to be strong, cold, disconnected. Why did he have to make it so hard? “Miss,” the florist snapped. “Oh.” Startling, I scanned the rows of flowers all around us. “Right, sorry. The ones I want are...” Different petals flew through my vision; every shape, every color, for any occasion. I knew nothing about weddings, how did I narrow down my choices? Something bright caught my eye. That's it. That's the one. Abell's words had influenced me. Last time that had happened, we'd nearly kissed in my kitchen. He's dangerous, I reminded myself. He's using you! Even knowing all of that, my heart still went fuzzy when I heard Abell inhale sharply. He'd realized which flower I was picking.

Reaching out, I brushed the shiny green stem. “Here,” I whispered. “This one.” The blue tulip was cool to the touch.

- Chapter Seven Abell

Nix was silent as we left the florist. Was she feeling the same distorting bundle of emotions that I was? Looking down on her, how the winter sun turned her hair into copper, I tried to see into her head. I failed, fucking obviously, but I still tried. Willing myself to become psychic was as likely as her spilling her guts to me. The incident in that greenhouse had left me stunned. Not the water, not how she'd eaten up the view of me as my shirt soaked through. Nix had listened to my wistful murmur about a damn flower. She'd listened. To me. Only one other person had ever done that. My jacket was chilly against my bare skin. I'd zipped it up, carrying my damp shirt in a tight ball in the crook of my elbow. Across the street, the mall looked like someone had vomited tinsel and ribbon all over it. Christmas is in the air, I mused. She was looking at her feet, at the clouds, at anything except me. The car was gone; she noticed, digging out

her phone to call the driver back. “Wait,” I said, waving my hand. Nix froze in middial. “Don't call yet.” “Why not? We're done out here.” Flipping my wet shirt at her, she caught it just before it hit the ground. “Not quite, Sugar. You owe me a new, preferably dry, shirt.” Gripping the soggy fabric, her eyebrows crawled as high as they could. I was waiting for her to argue, I had a whole spiel ready to counter her. Nix tucked her hair behind her ear, marching over the crosswalk towards the mall. “Nothing too expensive, okay?” She didn't even try and disagree with me. My sneakers skidded over the pavement behind her. “Are you feeling alright?” Dodging the seasonal crowd, she held the mall door open for me. “Of course. Why?” “Well. You're not being difficult, for a change.” Her lashes fluttered rapidly. “Are you trying to politely call me a bitch?” Laughing in my throat, I walked ahead of her through the busy mall. “Never say I don't have tact.” Her heels clicked violently across the hard marble. Under her breath, she muttered, “It's not me being weird, it's you.” “What was that?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Pulling up short, she grabbed my elbow and tugged me into a store. The sensation of her fingers gripping me lifted a wave of heat through my center. “In here, they have good clothing.” It was a brightly lit shop, the tall front windows painted with giant gold and black crowns. Cabo Street, I thought, recognizing the store. Nix had good taste, though that didn't shock me. From the start, she'd made a point of dressing in fine clothing. She was almost obsessed with how she looked, to the neurotic point of fussing over her hair when we'd been fucking. Even her underwear is classy, I thought, remembering the shiny lavender lingerie. “Abell, look at this one.” She was fingering the hem of a dark red shirt. As I got closer, she spread it out, showing me the golden design along the arms. “Nice, right?” Brushing my hand over the material, I nodded. “Soft. I like soft things against my skin.” She bit the edge of her mouth, her laugh nervous. “Of course you do. Want to try it on?” “You're the boss.” Unzipping my jacket, I let it fall to the floor. The shop was full of people, and all of them— man and woman alike—stopped to stare at me and my naked chest. I wasn't watching them, though. I was watching Nix.

Her eyes flew wide, the perfectly addicting pinkness of her blush crawling up her neck. I loved watching that happen. “Abell!” she hissed, raising her arms as if she could hide me from everyone. “Why do you insist on getting naked all the time? Stop!” Elongating my body, making the muscles in my back ripple, I put on a confused face. “Stop? But everyone seems to be enjoying the view.” She scanned the crowd, fidgeting when she noticed the girls snapping photos of me. There were some frowns, but mostly, the women were eating me up. It was only Nix that was getting upset. Holding the red shirt against me like a curtain, she grit her teeth. “Why are you doing this?” Pointedly, I met her stare. I could see the emotion swirling in her green eyes, and I hoped she could feel even a hint of mine. Why am I doing this? It was a good question, and my answer came out more calmly than it should have. “To make you jealous,” I whispered. Nix transformed into a statue. Her hands were talons, so tight they might never let go of that shirt. “What?” she asked, breathing the single word out. “It's true.” Gently, I took the shirt from her, sliding my arms through the sleeves. Around us, people made noises of disappointment. The show was over; in minutes the shoppers dispersed, leaving Nix and I alone among the racks.

Her hands still hovered in the air, fingers bent. I had the terrible suspicion that she was getting ready to claw my eyes out. Instead, she let her arms drift to her hips limply. “Why would you mess with me like that?” she asked. Slipping into my jacket, I zipped the front. “I'm not. Isn't it obvious that I like you?” “You don't like me,” she laughed, acid coating her tongue. “You just want to use me. I'm another pair of walking tits to you, only these tits are dragging access to your cash behind them like a ball and chain. That's what you want from me.” I steadied myself. Her words were harsh, but she wasn't entirely wrong. “Nix—” “Stop.” There was a rawness in her voice. Were her eyes wet? She turned away, her fire and ice armor returning. “Don't play with me. I don't have time for it.” Reaching out, I clasped her shoulder. She started to wrench away, but I held her firm. “Listen to me,” I said. “Whether you're right or not, what I said wasn't a lie. Making you jealous, making you ache for me and only me... I love it. I can't get enough of you.” She went stiff, twisting to gawk up at me. Her pupils were glossy, darker than an undiscovered galaxy. She was seeing me, actually seeing me. If this moment could last, I'd stand among those racks of pressed jeans and soft shirts forever. But it couldn't.

My life didn't mix well with romance. Nix backed away, hesitating. Whatever she'd been about to say, she stopped herself. “The shirt,” she mumbled. “Let's go take care of that.” Plucking at the front of the material, I smiled cynically. “Yeah. I guess that's what's important here.” There was hurt in her eyes, I fucking saw it. But I couldn't call her out, I couldn't do anything. Nix considered me a player, and she hated everything that word stood for. Why was I letting myself get all torn up over her? What the hell was I doing? Trying to keep my lifestyle. I need her to want me for that to happen. No. That wasn't true anymore. She'd agreed to marry me, and all I had to do was promise I wouldn't try and sleep with her. That would be easy, I had plenty of other people who'd indulge me. Why was I wasting air getting so flustered over this woman? Nix walked beside me, her wallet tucking into her purse as we exited the store. The chaotic noise of the busy mall slammed into me. The air smelled like cinnamon and hot chocolate. Through the chorus of sounds, I heard Nix's stomach rumble.

Peeking down at her, I scanned the mall. “Hey,” I said, pointing. “I'm starving, let's get some ice cream.” She blinked, but her lips turned up into a smile. “Really? Ice cream in winter?” “It's hot enough in here.” The mood between us lightened. Nix nodded, leading the way. “That actually sounds really good.” The line was short; people probably had the same thought Nix had about ice cream and the time of year. “I'll take a lemon cone,” I said, pulling out my wallet. “And give her whatever she wants.” Her eyes sparkled. “Vanilla. In a cup, please.” The clerk rang us up, handing the treats over. “That'll be five dollars.” “Don't say I never spoiled you,” I chuckled at Nix. The pearly shine of her teeth went ever brighter under the Christmas lights. “Oho, big spender.” Carrying our snacks, I led her up the escalator until we found a far corner of the mall. The ceiling arched high above, ornaments dangling on gold chains and twinkling with their reds and silvers. Sitting on the bench, I licked my ice cream. It was a burst of tartness on my tongue. “Man, that's good.” “It's pretty amazing,” she sighed. “I love desserts. My mother hates that I love them, which makes me like them more.” Her smile was contagious. “Hey, I have something I wanted to ask you.” “Shoot.” I nibbled the edge of the waffle cone.

“Your dad is having that Christmas party this weekend. Right?” My back popped as I sat taller. “Wait, were you invited to that catastrophe?” “Apparently. Is it going to be that terrible?” Not once had I attended my father's company parties. But if Nix was going... “That depends. Will you be wearing something holiday themed, like a cocktail dress made of mistletoe?” Her laugh was a shot of espresso into my nervous system. “If that's what it takes to salvage the party, I'll consider it. Are you... you know, going to be there?” Ducking her head, she stared intently into her ice cream. “I might swing by.” Winking, I turned the cone in my hand. “Is that what you wanted to ask me? If I was going? Baby, you don't need to be so subtle, come right out and say you wanted me by your side.” Chewing her bottom lip, she shifted on the bench. “Actually, I was going to ask if my brother could come.” A drop of melted lemon hit my knee. “You have a brother?” “Half-brother, but yeah. Gram works at Halloway Inc. You didn't meet him yet?” My shrug was quick. “Huh. Older or younger than you?” “Why does that matter?” I reached over, dipping my finger into her ice cream, then licking it off. “I want to know if he's a puppy-dog

younger brother, or the older type that will try to kick my ass when he hears that I hooked up with his sweet sister.” She hit me in the shoulder. “That's none of his business, don't you dare tell him. He wouldn't hurt a fly, anyway.” Grinning, I wiped my hand on my napkin. “What, you're saying he never chased off any guys when you were younger?” “No.” She hesitated, turning the yellow spoon in her fingers. “He didn't have the chance. I didn't meet him until I was eighteen.” “What?” Staring into her cup, she stirred the vanilla slowly. Her voice was far away. “It was a huge shock when he showed up. Turns out Dad hadn't been so faithful. My mother went nuts. Attacked him, screamed, the whole works.” Disgust bit deep into my heart. A father who betrayed his family? Yeah. I knew that story. Nix was shrinking into the bench, knees tucking to her chest. She looked like she was trying to disappear. Reaching out, I cupped her knee—she twitched. “It's alright,” I said gently. Her face smoothed, as if I'd comforted her. “I don't know why I'm telling you this.” “You don't have to.”

“I know. I just... I guess it feels good to share it, finally.” Switching her crossed ankles, she smiled at me sadly. “My mother hates Gram. Right from the start, it was like she wanted to wish him out of existence.” “Why does he work at your company, if she hates him so much?” “That was Dad's decision. I guess he felt guilty for hiding Gram away, ignoring him. That doesn't stop him from treating Gram like he's a living scarlet letter, though, when he's the one who fucked up.” “That's terrible,” I said softly. She watched me, as if trying to believe my sympathy. “Now we get to pretend to be one big, happy family. Mom despises Dad for cheating on her, but she refuses to divorce and let the world see their sham marriage for what it is. He can't leave her because he's weak. Gram just tries to stay invisible.” “And you?” Her eyebrows lowered. “Me? I do what they want. I always have. Taking care of what they ask me to... it's all I'm good for. Even now.” The memory of her talking in her sleep stabbed me. That night, she'd mumbled something similar. A life of doing what people want you to do. That was the life I'd run from. Nix had stayed. Both of us were fucked up. Which path is better? Running, or being a martyr?

Standing, she headed towards a trashcan. “This is all melted, I'll be right back.” The stiffness in her shoulders was obvious, even from behind. She put up with all of that? Her and I had much more in common than I ever realized. “Abram,” I said when she sat beside me again. “What?” “My name. My father still calls me it, even though I hate it, because that's the kind of man he is. He wanted me to become a grand, powerful leader of his company. But that's not me. It never could be.” My smile was cold as a corpse. “He was never good at hiding his disappointment.” Nix furrowed her brow, and I had to wonder what was going on behind her lovely eyes. “Is that why you... do what you do?” I didn't want her looking at me like that. I wasn't some victim, I didn't need to be psychoanalyzed. Smiling as wide as I could, I pushed myself to my feet. “Who knows! I just wanted you to see we share the fun tradition of nick-names. Come on, let's get out of here.” Tradition. Hah. Calling myself Abell had been about sticking it to my father, claiming something for myself. Nothing I'd done growing up had been good enough for him. But Nix was wrong.

The final straw that led me into debauchery had been something else entirely. That day in the hospital was a brutal memory. I never wanted to think about it again, and the only way to run from the moment where I'd finally discovered the cruelty of the world, was to bury myself in throbbing flesh and forgettable faces. I didn't want clarity, I wanted to drink and fuck. I wanted to not care. My talent is not giving a shit. Except Nix had proven that wrong about me. She was proving everything wrong about me. As we exited the mall together, I felt her staring. I didn't dare look down at her. I was too afraid of the pity in her eyes.

- Chapter Eight Nix

“Excuse me? Miss Halloway?” I knew the man was talking to me, but I was busy gawking at the house—the mansion—that towered ahead. White lights were draped around pillars, the entrance way, the delicately trimmed bushes... everything. It was a gorgeous home. Who needs a place this big? A car horn blared behind me, making me jump. “Ma'am?” the valet coughed. “People are waiting to pull up, you need to get out of the car.” Focusing, I put my gloved hand in his, letting him help me out of the backseat. Everything smelled fresh, juniper tickling my nose. Here we are. I'd almost backed out, but in the end, my temptation had been too strong. I wanted to see Abell again. He'd been acting so strange when we'd left the mall. He wouldn't look at me, and when he talked, it was disconnected. He's always like that, I'd tried to tell myself. Except I knew that wasn't right. Abell had been peeling away his falseness bit by bit around me. So why, after talking about my family, had he thrown his plastic wall back up?

Adjusting the heavy, double-buttoned coat I'd worn to avoid winter's bite, I walked unsteadily through the front door. Thick carpets stretched along the floor, the kind meant for movie stars. The house reeked of money. Relax. So what if the Birch's are rich, your family is wealthy, too! Don't be intimidated! Except we didn't have this kind of wealth. We never had. This was a whole other tier, another world. The buzz of conversation rolled over me as I entered. Freezing in the foyer, I gazed up at the pale staircase draped in green garland, a balcony with red ribbons twisting along one side. Tables covered in food sat against each wall of the room, an ice sculpture of a deer perched on one of them. There was a crowd milling around, all of them dressed to impress. Just as I'd figured, every face belonged to a stranger. I was in the middle of a fancy Christmas party, and I knew no one. Wonderful. A woman in a black dress approached me with a tray of glasses. “Drinks?” “Yes,” I said gratefully, taking the champagne flute and sipping. “I think I'll need this.” Where's Abell? Did he not come? What about Gram? The party was in full swing. If making a late entry was anyone's plan, they were pushing it. Checking my

phone, I felt my stomach slip lower—no missed calls. Not even a text. Abell had exchanged numbers with me before we parted the other day. Since then, the only thing he'd texted me was an invitation to visit him if I got lonely. I'd ignored it at the time, I knew what a booty call was. Now, I was tempted to respond, just for an excuse to make contact. The hairs on my neck stood tall. Suddenly, I didn't feel... alone. Turning, I caught a pair of blue eyes watching me. They didn't belong to Abell. Dressed in a black suit, his silvery hair shining, Corin Birch came my way with a smile. The sight of him made my mouth taste like a leaking battery. Ah, here we go. “Miss Halloway,” he chuckled, holding out a hand. The gold watch on his wrist glinted. “May I take your coat?” You can take my foot up your ass. Smiling politely, I shrugged out of the long coat, passing it to him. The dress I'd chosen for the evening wasn't made of mistletoe, but it was green like the plant. Knit from soft wool, it hugged my body, showing off the curves my mother hated, while touching my knees to keep it classy.

I'd thrown my hair up in a braid that was wrapped high on my neck, the air brushing my bare collar bone. Dressing to fit the situation was something my parents had ingrained in me. Corin looked me over slowly. The appreciation in his eyes had my dinner tickling the back of my throat. “You look lovely. Your mother and you are so similar.” Laughing, I sipped my champagne. “Don't let her hear you say that, she'll be furious.” “I've seen her angry side enough times to not be afraid of it.” Curiosity chimed in my skull, louder than a grandfather clock. “She never told me that she knew you. I mean, knew you knew you, enough to get a personal loan... and to set up this whole marriage contract.” I spit the last sentence out, wishing I could crush it under my heel. He must have sensed my growing disgust; I wasn't really hiding it. “Even after our meeting together, she's still told you nothing.” “Not a thing. Why don't you enlighten me?” The corners of his eyes crinkled up. “I think not. Here's a question for you, how are you and my son getting along?” I went to take a big mouthful of my drink, but it was already empty. Had I chugged it that fast? Corin is making me nervous, I can't help it. “Abell is... something else.”

“Do you hate him?” My eyebrows flew high at the abrupt turn this conversation had taken. “Hate him?” Corin stroked his palm over my coat in his arms. “You seemed appropriately offended when you learned your fate. I guess his reputation precedes him. I'm sorry about these circumstances, Miss Halloway.” I couldn't control the sarcasm in my tiny smile. “Are you? You could always call the wedding off, burn the contract.” “No,” he said, his voice rich with a darkness I didn't understand. “I'm afraid if you want Halloway Inc, you're stuck with my wreck of a son. You'll be married to a man who cares about nothing but wasting the money we both earn on whores and alcohol.” Blown away by his insult, I squeezed the stem of my glass. Abell had told me he didn't get along with his father, but for the man to callously tell me that his own son was a mess, it was shocking. Everything Corin is saying about him is stuff I've thought. Even with that fact, it bothered me that he could speak so poorly about his own son. So no one around us would hear, I whispered, “Were you always such an asshole to him?” My polite facade had fully melted away. Corin paused, his fingers curling around one of my coat's buttons. I feared he was getting ready to tear it off.

“Do you approve of his history, his habits, Miss Halloway?” Rocking side to side, I frowned. “No, of course not.” “Could you ever see yourself loving a man who chooses his obscene, selfish desires over your own happiness?” The room was pleasantly warm, and still, a cold chill swam through my blood. “I... no, never.” Was I crazy, or did Corin smile like he was actually happy? “I'll go put your coat in the check-in area, it'll be waiting for you when you leave. Enjoy yourself tonight, Miss Halloway.” And that was it, our weird as hell conversation was over. Staring after Corin, I forgot my drink was empty and took a sip of air. Unsatisfied, even irritated, I looked around for one of the woman with trays. What the hell was that all about? Corin was disturbing me with how confusing he was being. He knew my mother... but wouldn't say how. He slandered his son in front of me, all while mocking how I couldn't escape the contract. If the man was auditioning for the part of a super villain, he was one nuke away from getting it. Spotting a girl with more drinks, I started to move through the crowd. I didn't get far before I locked my knees, a gap in the busy room revealing a couple standing by the wall.

It was my mother. And she was with Abell. Ducking to the side, I willed myself to act normal— to not be spotted. Why are they talking? Were they just making conversation? Peering at them, I noted how sharp Abell looked in his rich, plum colored vest over a white button-down. The contrast helped define the width of his shoulders. He'd peeled the sleeves to his elbow, not shy in exposing his elaborate tattoos. The combination of class and casual reminded me of a rock star. In a way, I guess he was one—or pretty close. A rich, rock star player, I mused, stringing together all of his qualities. Recalling what his dad had said about him, my guts knotted tight. I didn't know how to feel. Abell was a player, but his dad was a monster for pointing it out. For calling him a fuck up. The things Abell had told me when we'd sat and eaten ice cream together on our surreal shopping trip, they became clearer. I understood why he'd run away from the pressure his dad apparently put on him. After all, I thought, squinting at my mother, I've experienced the same thing. Abruptly, he leaned in, listening to something she was saying. His smile, even yards away, turned my heart into a jet engine.

He looked so good when he did that, like he had a secret he wanted to share, and he'd tell you... for a price. Abell turned away from her, weaving through the crowd—right at me. Shivering, I snatched a full glass off of a passing tray. He hadn't spotted me yet. However, before I could dart away and get my bearings, his sapphire stare locked on me. That wicked grin was as good as a bear trap. “Nix,” he said, stopping inches away. “I thought we'd agreed you'd be wearing mistletoe.” I waved down at my dress. “Amazingly, I couldn't find any, so I had to use this as a substitute.” Clicking his tongue, he tapped his breast pocket, pointing out the sprig of mistletoe he'd stuck there. “It's your lucky night, I have some right here. Let's get you into the back, see how it looks.” Smiling helplessly, I swirled my glass. “One sprig isn't enough to make me decent.” “Exactly,” he whispered, bending closer. His breath tickled my throat. “That's the whole point.” The flutters in my belly turned into hot waves of pressure. Abell had taken away any comeback I could have tried. Looking away, I sipped the champagne. “What were you and my mother talking about?” “She offered me a handjob for fifty dollars. I turned her down.”

Spitting my drink out, I caused people to turn and stare at me. Cupping my mouth, I coughed hoarsely. Laughing, Abell grabbed a napkin from his pocket, offering it to me. “Guess you liked that one.” Wiping my face, I blushed wildly. “She'll kill you if she learns you said that.” Inside, I was still giggling. “You'll have to protect me from her, then.” He winked, then grabbed my drink from me, finishing it off. “Want a tour of this place?” Pulling my lower lip in, I ignored how he'd stolen my champagne—my liquid courage. “Sure. That'd be better than trying to make conversation with strangers. Who are they all? Friends of your dad?” “Friends?” Abell made a wide gesture with one arm. “People with money, connections, power. The kind of mercenary scum my dad loves associating with.” His eyes flared, but he was quick to smile at me. “Come on. I haven't been back here in eight years, I'll try not to get us lost.” “Eight years?” The heels of my ankle boots scuffed over the polished floor as I followed after him. “Why so long?” “Have you met my father?” Chuckling, he held open a door for me. I stepped through into a quiet, carpeted hallway. “I stopped living under his rule when I was sixteen.”

“That's so young! Where did you go? How could you even make it on your own?” Closing the door, he strolled down the dimly let hall, his voice softening. “The truth isn't that impressive. My dad never denied me access to his money. I've had a credit card in my name this whole time.” I offered him a slanted grin. “That's not exactly the bold, 'going your own way' plan I'd expect from you.” “You think I'm bold?” Heat spread over my cheeks. “It's a word that suits you.” Abell turned the corner, a circular room stuffed with books opened before us. “Wow!” I gasped. “There's so many!” In the center of the ceiling, a glass window let in the midnight haze of the sky. Gazing up at it, I noticed a graceful staircase that led to a polished door. “What's in there?” “Nothing,” he said, rounding on me. “It's an old closet.” Weird place for a closet. Spinning slowly on my toes, I went back to studying the shelves. “It's beautiful in here.” “Beautiful is a word that should be reserved for... better things.” His eyes sucked up the low lights, blue centers shifting with shadows. I hadn't realized there was a bookcase behind me, not until he stepped forward, causing me to retreat into it.

When my spine tapped the thick novels, I went stiff. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He whispered, “You know why.” Licking my lower lip, I glanced away. “Abell, you agreed. No sleeping with me.” “Now who's bold? You think I'm trying to fuck you right now? Is that where your mind is, Nix?” I sucked in air, lifting my chin high to try and stare him down. “I know what you want, Abell Birch. You can't fool me, and you aren't getting it.” “Tell me what I want.” Lingering there, he casually slid his thumb over my shoulder-strap. “Say it out loud, baby girl. You might as well. You're already thinking about it.” The memory of his warm lips haunted me. “I'm not,” I lied. “You're just... it's obvious. It's what you want from every girl.” He went quiet, watching me without blinking. Abell stood perfectly still, only the occasional puff of air through his nose told me he was alive. There was a severity in his pupils, something burning up from deep inside. What was he thinking about? Lowering closer, his eyelashes twitched. “Maybe,” he hissed softly, “Maybe what I want from you is different. Did you ever consider that?” I was so close to asking him what he meant. It was right there on my tongue. My pulse stampeded until my

heart became a blur of sensation, I imagined it was a hummingbird trapped in my chest. “Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. I don't... want you. Not like this.” Abell chuckled, pressing his forehead against mine. “Then why are you breathing so heavily?” His scent flooded me, my vision starting to sway. He leaned into me, his erection digging into my thigh. Grinding against the front of my dress, he took a mere second to find where my pussy was. Was that his damn super power? “Ah!” I cried, turning away so my cheek touched the books. “W—wait, we can't... you know we can't...” Ignoring me, he slid himself up and down with deliberate movements. His cock rubbed at me through the fabric, insistent on driving me wild. “I can get you off like this.” He pressed harder, faster. “I can make you cum without fucking you.” “Nix?” Gram shouted, echoing in the hall outside. “Are you down here?” His voice snapped me back to the present. I didn't want anyone to catch me with Abell in such a revealing position, but my brother? Grabbing Abell's wrists, I pushed him away from me. He gave me an inch of space, staring at me with lust glazing his eyes. “Remember our agreement,” I said. I darted a look at the hall. “I'm not doing this, we have to stop!”

There was a heavy beat, a long second, that passed between us. Was he going to listen to me? Or keep pushing, sensing I was about to break... that I had broken? “Fuck!” he growled, wrenching away. His fists knotted at his sides, tendons flexing. Running a hand through his hair, he forced out a tight laugh. “Guess he saved you after all, huh?” My juices were running down my inner thigh. I prayed nothing would show through my dress. “I saved me,” I panted, struggling to calm down. “I'm not sleeping with you again, get it?” He eyed me hungrily. “I can feel you wearing down, babe. You won't be able to hold back much longer.” A full body shudder, crafted from pure pleasure, shook me. What if he's right? The concept was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. No, I can't... that can't happen. I was smart enough to know that getting closer to Abell was a bad idea. But every second we spent together, I wanted... more. So much more. His father's words crept into my head, itching like spiders. Could you ever see yourself loving a man who chooses his obscene, selfish desires over your own happiness? My answer had come quick: Never. I wasn't so sure any longer.

“Nix!” Gram shouted. With one more shaky breath, I shoved past Abell. “We need to hide, before he finds us together like this.” “What?” Abell laughed. “I thought you said he wouldn't beat me up.” “He won't!” But he thinks Abell is scum, because I told him he was. I can't handle the way he'll look at me when he finds us alone! It was obvious what we were doing! I'd have to beat myself up later for letting Abell get so close to me, when I'd meant to keep us as far apart as I could. In a panic, I spun in place, searching for some escape. Gram was in the hall, and this room had no where to go. We were trapped. No. There's one place. My eyes snapped to the staircase. Not waiting for Abell, I threw myself up the steps towards the door above. The closet he mentioned! “Wait!” Chasing after me, Abell's voice cracked. “Don't go in there!” Ignoring him, I wrenched the handle, diving into the room as adrenaline made my palms slick. Fight or flight. I'd chosen flight. The scent of chemicals hit me first. It was dark, my eyes adjusting from the light that filtered in through the huge windows. It could have been a small attic, except every inch of it was filled with one thing.

Painted canvases. “Nix,” Abell hushed, coming up behind me. Moving forward, I gazed at the myriad of paintings. They were all stunning, brightly colored like flowers in spring. One by one, I walked past them, my hand in the air—wanting to touch, but knowing better. “What is all this?” I whispered. Shutting the door gently, Abell stayed where he was, silent. Peeking back at him, I went back to scanning the art. Someone with skill had done all of these. They were well preserved, only a little dusty. No one had been in here for some time. Leaning in close, I realized they all had signatures. Tiny, curving white letters in the bottom right corner— they read 'Birch.' “Did you paint all these?” I asked, standing up straight as a rod. The light above cast hard shadows along his nose and brow-line. The movement of his head, as he stared at the paintings, was subtle. “No.” “Then who?” Coming forward, he reached for one of the paintings where it sat on an easel. At the last second, he pulled away. “My mother.” Shock spread through me like cement. His mother? And I knew, deep down, even before I asked, that

something sad existed in the air between us. “What happened to her?” His lips made a shape, but it wasn't his normal smile. “She died. Years ago.” I hugged myself harder. “When you were sixteen. Is that why you ran away?” Abell twisted, watching me closely. “You have a good memory for details.” Again, he looked at the canvas in front of him. “You want to know what happened?” “Yes.” I said it fast; there was no hesitation. His outline was sharp, as solid as a mountain on the horizon. Yet still, I had a terrible feeling that if I touched him, he'd crumble away. “My mother was a... good person.” He paused. “More than that. There isn't a word for her. She was perfect, and kind, and her soul was gentle. Accepting.” Bending his neck, he looked at the window, whispering, “That still wasn't enough for him.” Ice burned inside of me. “Your father.” Nodding, Abell opened his palm, finally brushing the side of the easel. “I don't think he ever really loved her. It didn't matter how she felt, or what she did, he just didn't care. When she got sick, and the doctors said she didn't have long... she started painting. “I joined her. We'd sit up here for hours, just talking, laughing, watching the colors dry. She'd always wanted to be a painter, but she'd given up that dream to take care

of me. But I was older now, and she was—” He stopped himself, then grit his teeth. “Dying.” My feet were rooted to the floor. In my pocket, my phone buzzed—Gram was calling me—but I didn't care. I was attached to nothing in that moment but Abell. If I thought he'd peeled back his walls before, now I knew what that really meant. He looked past me, over my ear. “The day she went into the hospital, I knew she was done. Everyone knew. But while she lie there, waiting for my father to come, he never did. I called him, over and over, but it made no difference.” Making a fist, he shut his eyes—and laughed. The sound was torturous. “The woman who never stopped smiling, died with tears in her eyes, because the man she loved until the very end refused to see her! Isn't that amazing? Isn't life fucking amazing?” Clutching my hands together, I saw the visceral pain contorting his face. Once, as a child, I'd encountered a rabid dog roaming the streets. It's eyes had been rolling, unhinged. Spittle coated it's soaked snout. Someone had called the police, hoping to prevent anyone from getting hurt. As I watched from the safety of a bank, the dog went after the cop who approached. He shot it before it could dig in its fangs. In that moment though, I'd seen the pure desire to kill in the eyes of a living creature. Now, I saw that in Abell.

He was dangerous, he was broken. Being close to someone like this was as reckless as wanting to build a house on the edge of a volcano. The smartest thing would be to turn, walk out that door, and forget everything. The contract... my company... the marriage... Everything. Crossing the room, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him against me. Abell jolted, resisting me before going slack. In the darkness, disbelief fueled his stare. “Stop,” he whispered. “Don't try and act like you care. No one fucking cares. This world is full of selfish, shitty people. No one is worth loving. Not anymore.” “Say what you want,” I mumbled against his chest. “I remember a night when a certain man, in all his glory, tore down a grassy hill to save someone he didn't know. There was no reason to step in. He just did it... because he cared.” Gripping my chin, he angled me upwards. The glow in his eyes made me grateful he was holding me up. “You think that I saved you just because I cared?” “Yes.” “Maybe I hoped you'd be so thankful, you'd spread your legs for me.” He's trying to hurt me. “That wasn't it. You said another girl was waiting for you, I remember. Saving

me, saving Trish, it messed your night up. You knew it would, and you still acted. Don't lie to me.” Abell's expression was rampant with chiseled grooves. He challenged me in that silence, dared me to bail under the intensity in his glare. But I wouldn't break. I had fire in me, and he knew it. Cradling me to him, he crushed my face to his chest until my skull throbbed. It was pain, but I loved it. “Thank you,” he said softly. Hearing his heart beat, I wanted... I wanted to stay there. We could hide away in this room full of memories, never facing the people who had hurt us. I'd never run from anything before, but he made it feel so easy. I was shaking; we both felt it. “Sorry. It's cold in here,” I lied. Abell's lips quirked. “You use that line as an excuse a lot. Let me finally warm you up.” My attention was frozen on his mouth. “But... the agreement,” I said in a hush. From his pocket, he lifted the mistletoe. “Holiday tradition trumps everything.” I licked my lower lip, my lungs constricting. “Tradition. Right. That...” His mouth glided across mine, linking us tight. Abell was warm, even cozy. It would have been magical to stand there, our tongues slipping together as the rest of the world—my responsibilities—faded away.

In my pocket, my phone buzzed, shattering the moment. Abell leaned back, both of us gasping softly as we parted. The stars in his eyes held me steady, chained me there in his arms. He said, “I think your brother is calling. It's probably time to leave.” Shoving my emotions down, enough to back away, I dusted my dress off. “Right. Yeah. We should go before he sends in a search party.” Why did he stop kissing me? And why did it make me feel so anxious? Together we left the room, our hands dangerously close to touching by our sides. I was aware of the distance, I wanted to close it, and I knew it was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. On the edge of the main foyer, surrounded by the crowd, Gram was typing into his phone. Breaking away from Abell, I waved an arm. “Gram!” He looked up when I called to him. “Nicky! There you are! I had started to think you weren't here.” I jogged to meet him. Before I could say another word, I pulled up short—Abell had clasped my shoulders from behind, effectively stopping me in my tracks. From my vantage, I got to witness the unease in my brother's eyes. Abell said, “You must be Gram. Nice to meet you in person.” Stepping beside me, he held out a hand.

Gram shook it, eyes narrowing a fraction. “Same. Thanks for the invite, your house is amazing.” “It's not mine, but I'll take the credit,” Abell said. I saw his hand squeeze, knuckles going bloodless. Wincing, he pulled away, shaking his fingers with a shallow laugh. “Nice strong grip you have there, brother-in-law.” Gram's shoulders balled up by his ears. His smile was tight as a drum. “Don't get ahead of yourself.” They were weighing each other, the silent judgment of two men trying to discover the intent of the other. It was a silly attempt at machismo. I didn't need, or want, either of them starting a fight. “Hey, both of you, stop it.” “Stop what?” Gram asked. Rolling my eyes, I gave him a light shove. “You know what. Quit sizing him up. And you, Abell, don't antagonize him.” “I'm not!” I lifted one eyebrow. “You are. Just quit it. This is a Christmas party, we should be full of good cheer.” A loud ringing cut through the air. Conversation died, and I looked up, spotting Corin at the center of the room. He had a glass held high, tapping the rim with a spoon. At the sight of his smug smile, my stomach dropped. What the hell is he doing? “Attention,” he said loudly. “I'd like to make a toast.” He scanned the room, finally halting when he found me.

I stopped breathing. “The Birch family wants to welcome Nichole Halloway into our fold. She and my son are going to be married at the end of the month, and I for one couldn't be happier. And, you're all invited to the reception!” All attention was on me. Glasses went up, a cacophony of happy 'cheers!' rumbling over and over. The applause became a hurricane. And to my credit, I managed a fake smile. I smiled and smiled and waved a hand politely. And Corin's eyes never left mine.

- Chapter Nine Nix

In a flash, the days went by. They evaporated hour by hour, until finally, the current date slammed into me like a car crash. Today I'd be trying on my wedding dress. How did two weeks just vanish? It had been a blur. I'd weathered it in a haze of planning, firm acceptance... And the occasional cocktail in the afternoon. But there was more plaguing me than just the wedding. Abell had drilled himself into my life. He found numerous ways to be close to me, always pushing the limits—always trying to get me to buckle to him. I'd been strong, but if I was honest, it had been a struggle. The bastard was too good at finding the cracks in my armor. One gritty whisper and my thighs were soaked. It was as if my atoms had been programmed to react to him. Each day, the temptation to just drag him somewhere private so we could repeat what we'd done the night we'd met grew stronger. I need to stop seeing him. That was the answer; avoid Abell Birch. Except when I stepped outside my door that evening...

Abell was waiting for me. Dammit. He was parked out front, leaning on the hood of his car. The sun was reflecting off of the glossy paint, but his teeth rivaled the shine. I'd never seen such a smug looking man. He wore it like it was his cologne. Rocking off of the car, he waved at me. “Nice to run into you, Sugar.” Narrowing my eyes, I edged down the steps. “What are you doing here?” “Bringing you coffee.” He revealed two cups behind him, balancing on the Ferrari's hood. “Extra cream, just the way you like it.” I blushed red hot. “You came here just to bring me coffee?” “Is that surprising?” Opening my mouth, I paused. “Yeah, actually.” “I'm hurt.” Passing me one of the drinks, he chuckled. “But I was also told you'd be doing errands today, and I thought you could use some company.” He'd been told? By who? Thinking about the Christmas party, I connected the dots. “My mother told you, didn't she?” Sipping his coffee, he nodded. “Yup.” Cursing that woman for meddling, I took a quick pull from my paper cup. The aroma of coffee grinds and the sultriness of cream washed over me. He'd made the drink perfectly. “Abell, you don't want to come to a

bridal store. It's what groups of girls do, you know? Giggling, sitting around, trying on clothes? Boring.” “Beautiful women changing in and out of their clothing? Sounds like my kind of place.” Prickles of jealousy ran up my spine. I washed them down with another drink. “Thanks for this, by the way.” I wiggled the coffee side to side. “Thank me by letting me drive you to your appointment.” My resistance was flaking off, washed away by days of his flirting. Peering at the ground so I didn't have to see his grin, I said, “Alright. My gift to you is letting you drive me.” He cut the air with his warm laugh. “Aren't I lucky?” Tapping his keys, the doors unlocked. “Your chariot awaits.” It was a challenge not to lighten up when he was so playful. Slipping into the car, I went to turn the radio on. “Hey,” I said, hesitating. “What happened to your knob?” “My 'knob' is just fine, what'd you hear?” Rolling my eyes, I pointed at the radio. He saw what I meant, and his frown was a quick flicker. Pushing the gas pedal, he started us forward so roughly I bounced back in my seat. “Hey!” “Sorry.” I shot him a side-eye. He's hiding something. I didn't know how to casually prod, so I let it be. Whatever had happened to his radio didn't matter, anyway.

Well, except that now I didn't have music to escape into and avoid conversation. Heat roared from the vents, making the Ferrari toasty—welcome compared to the chilly day. It actually made me sleepy, sitting there with the hum of the engine and the cozy warmth. “I don't usually have to ask this,” he said, his smirk going crooked. “But you'll have to direct me.” Lifting my chin, I dared to meet his smile with my own. “It's not the first time I've done that.” In the centers of his irises, a glimmer of delicious promise grew. “I guess you're right. You did direct me to fuck you over and over that night.” Pointedly, he looked down at my chest, growling in the back of his throat. Pushing my knees together, I turned away. My breath was coming so fast it actually fogged the window up. “There, up ahead, ” I said, my tone shaking. Calm down. I pointed at the street. “Turn right there, the shop is just a bit further.” It was a mint and pink building, the giant windows displaying white dresses in various styles. Just as I was regaining my composure, a new wave—a different wave —of nerves slammed into me. This is it. Struggling with the handle, I jumped out of the Ferrari and sucked in the chilly air. Abell locked the car, walking to me with his hands folded behind his head. “You alright?” Breathe. Breathe. You can do this.

My hands rested on my knees, I was bent in two. “Yeah. I mean, no.” Giggling uneasily, I shook myself. “It's just weird. I never expected... I don't know.” “What? You never thought you'd get married?” My brain flashed with memories. One of them, a vivid image of my mother throwing a cellphone at my father, had my stomach twisting. “You know what my parents are like, I don't have the most positive views about the custom.” “I hear you there.” Yes. Of course he did. The story about his poor mother had opened my eyes to his tragic past. It also helped me understand that day, when he'd cradled a tulip and complimented how it would suit me. Everything he knew about color, he'd learned from her. My lungs stretched; I was dizzy, but less panicked. “Come on,” I said. “Let's get this over with.” The door jingled as we entered. A man in a crisp, grey vest looked up, greeting me with a giant smile. “Hello! How can I help you?” “Um, I guess I have an appointment? Nix Halloway?” “Oh, of course!” He threw up his hands, startling me. “Your mother called ahead. You aren't giving us much time to get you fitted, you know,” he teased. “I'm Bates, I'll be taking care of you.” Spotting Abell, he lifted an eyebrow. “Are you the fiance?” Fiance. Cripes.

Abell reached out, circling an arm around my waist. “That's right. Future husband.” He squeezed one of my ass cheeks firmly. I bit my tongue, the pain stopping me from whimpering at his possessive touch. Sliding out of his reach, I motioned for Bates to hurry and lead the way, staying several feet ahead of Abell. “Sorry for the short notice, I usually do things with much more planning.” “It's no trouble. I'm going to get you into a dress you'll love.” His voice rolled with amusement. “Your mother emphasized not to worry about the cost, and we all know money smooths every inconvenient wrinkle life has for us.” Once, I would have agreed. For some reason, thinking about money formed a crater in my guts. Money is why I'm doing this. I glanced sideways at Abell. And money is why he's going along with this charade. That fact dug at me like a rusty nail. Shaking off my weird mood, I followed Bates further into the store. Dresses hung off every hook, glittering bright as new snow in every style. Abruptly, the clerk pulled up short, pointing at Abell. “I'm sorry, Mister...” “Just call me the husband to be.” The clerk made a face. “We prefer the fiances to stay here.” He pointed at a lone bench in the middle of the store. “Seeing your bride in her dress before the big day isn't standard.”

“I don't think I'm a very 'standard' guy,” Abell said. Nodding at me, he ran his fingers down the front of his shirt. Helplessly, I pictured him running his hand over me. “Do you care if I watch?” He didn't hide the lust that ruled his expression. I wanted to be offended, but a little twinge rolled through my belly. “You weren't supposed to come at all. Just sit there, I'll be done fast.” Bates frowned as deep as he could. “It takes time to find the perfect dress for the biggest day of your life.” I laughed sourly. “Anything that fits me will be good enough.” When his frown shifted into sadness, I corrected myself. “Not to say what you do isn't worth the effort! I'm just... I'm easy to please.” Abell's voice was thick as he whispered, “You certainly are.” Sweating across my neck, I nudged Bates around the corner. “Let's get this show on the road!” Glaring over at Abell, I tried to express all of my distaste in a single scowl. Of course, he only bared his pearly teeth, flopping onto the bench comfortably. Bates led me to an area that was quiet and empty. A stall was cut into the wall, dresses decorating the racks around us like an ethereal lace forest. The instant we were alone, he handed me several of them, stacking my arms until I grunted. “Go on,” he said, waving at me. “Get in the stall and try one!”

Brushing the curtain aside, I squinted at the inside of the room. “There are no mirrors in here.” “Of course not!” He pointed at a podium that was surrounded by reflective walls. “Your first visual will be dramatic, astounding! It's the only way to experience the dress, and to know if it's the one.” Pursing my lips, I chuckled. “I like your enthusiasm, but I'm warning you, I'm not going to get that excited about this.” “Maybe you'll be surprised.” I started to argue, but he reached out, pushing me gently into the stall. “Go, go!” The curtain drifted shut, leaving me alone. Sighing, I set the dresses on the hooks on the walls. They were all different, sharing only the common theme of bright white. I can't believe I'm doing this. Which do I put on first? Deciding it didn't matter, I ran my fingertips over the front of a ball-gown style dress. It's so expensive looking. This stuff was meant for a queen, not me. Tugging my clothes off, I kept my heels on, figuring the extra height would help me not drag the wedding dress along the floor. I pulled the full skirt upwards, the weight of it amazing me. It managed to have a heaviness to it, but also, a surprising lightness. What kind of fabric was this?

The pleats were coated in filigree and glitter. It reminded me of fairy wings, and that thought alone made me smile. I hadn't been exposed to much fluff or fantasy as a child. My parents had set out from the start to infuse me with responsibility. Binding the corset around my middle, I felt like... a bride. Will I look like one? Zipping the back closed, I buried that wandering thought. It didn't matter how I looked. This was about hard work, dedication, and sacrifice. Especially sacrifice. “Don't dawdle,” the clerk called to me. “Chop chop! Let's see how you look!” Inhaling until my lungs could swell no more, I held the air. I didn't release it until I started to see black spots. Okay. Here we go. Stepping out of the stall, I was faced by multiple reflections of myself. From every angle I saw the dress clinging to me; the lace ruffles, the rose shaped edges curling down my bare back. I'd never worn anything like this before. The woman in the mirror didn't look like me. She was serene and soft. I was hard edges and daggers. What the hell was I doing putting this on? I didn't belong here, I didn't... I couldn't get away with this. Everyone would laugh and say I was fake. And wasn't I?

“Isn't it gorgeous?” Bates gushed. Half-turning, I adjusted my hair over my shoulder. I couldn't tell the clerk my complex jumble of emotions and thoughts. “I don't know. It's a great dress, it just isn't... I look funny.” This isn't me. I'm not a bride. I'm a soldier. Bates clicked his tongue. “You look stunning!” A thick, restrained voice spoke out. “Stunning isn't a strong enough word.” Freezing, I clutched my hair tight. In the mirror, I could see his reflection; blue eyes, a tight jaw and tighter fists. Abell was there. And he was watching me.

- Chapter Ten Abell

I was fixated on the sight before me. Nothing else existed. Nix was a vision of radiance; a living opal, perfectly clean and glittering in the lights. The corset hugged her waist, the top enhanced her chest. In that moment, there had never been another woman so perfect. I wanted her. And I wanted her right now. “Sir, please,” Bates hissed. “It's unorthodox for the groom to see the bride before the wedding!” Digging into my wallet, I shoved several hundred dollars at him. “Go away. Give us twenty minutes.” “I—what?” he asked. “Abell,” Nix said, hands digging into the layers of the dress. “What the hell are you—” “I said go,” I growled, shoving the clerk to the side. The man was flustered, but when he counted the money I'd given him, he shut up. With a pointed glance at me, he hurried out of view. Focusing on Nix, I grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her back into the stall.

“Abell!” she gasped, clearly confused by my response. Fuck. I was confused, too. It had taken all of my strength that night at the party not to keep kissing her. Nix had tried to convince me the world wasn't as cruel as I'd experienced. If she believed that, I wanted to let her keep that innocence. It would be better if I left her alone. Better if I never touched her again. But I'm a selfish man. The curtain fell shut behind us. She stared up at me, and I could see myself—my hunger—in the reflection of her green eyes. “What's gotten into you?” she asked. Dragging my palms down her smooth, bare shoulders, I shivered. “I can't do this.” “Do what?” “Resist you.” Cupping her jaw, my lips captured hers. She tasted sweeter than she had the first night we'd met, more like candy canes and less like beer. Around us, the giant frills of the dress rustled. They announced our actions; shushing us or clapping, I wasn't sure. My focus was laser sharp, entirely on her. Under my roaming palms, the beads of her dress felt like brail. They told me a story, led me on an adventure across the dip of her waist to the swell of her ass. Nix whimpered, pushing her palms into my chest. “Wait,” she said. “We can't do this.”

Nuzzling her throat, I inhaled until I was disoriented. “We can. We are.” Her voice was fading, thickening with her growing need. “You said... you said you wouldn't sleep with me.” “No. I said I wouldn't unless you wanted me to.” My fingers found the hooks on the dress, popping them one by one. “You fucking want me to. I can smell it.” The heat of her blush touched my cheek where it was pressed to her neck. “But I didn't even buy this dress yet, and people will hear us!” “I'm buying it for you.” I kissed her collarbone, meeting her eyes. “And let them. I'm taking you in this dress, right here. I don't care if the whole world knows what I'm doing to you.” I need this woman. Part of me wanted to rationalize it. I needed her? Fine, but I really meant I needed to fuck her. That was it. Please, let that be it. Nix bit down on her lip, trying to quiet her gasp. Her struggle was delicious. “My mother will lose her mind if the dress I pick gets damaged, and she won't buy a second, and... and...” “Shut up,” I chuckled darkly. Running my lips over the indent of her throat, I slid the rest of the zipper down. “Don't talk unless you're saying my name, or begging for my cock.” Her lashes fluttered. “I don't beg.”

“You do.” Threading my fingers in her hair, I yanked her head back, causing her to groan. “You will.” Raking my jaw down her throat, I caressed every inch of her exposed skin. Her shoulders were smooth as polished ivory, the inner part of her arm so sensitive that just blowing on it drew goosebumps. Spinning her, I pressed her face to the wall. “Stay.” Nix looked back at me, the one eye I could see wide with anticipation. Dropping to my knees, I threw the heavy folds of her dress up and over her hips. She was wearing a pair of white panties, the fabric pulling tight over her ass. “Fucking hell,” I said. “What a view.” Tracing my fingers over her thighs, I hooked the panties, tugging them deep in her flesh. She squeaked when the cloth pulled between her cheeks, then further, right between her pussy lips. With two fingertips, I lightly outlined her swollen folds, back and forth, avoiding her clit. “The night we hooked up, you wouldn't let me eat your pussy. This time, I'm taking what I want.” “W—wait, wait—ahh!” Nix pushed her face into the wall, muffling her sounds. She hadn't been ready for me to dive in, licking straight up her cunt and along her asshole. Yanking the soaked fabric to one side, I spread my tongue over her shiny pink lips. She tasted fantastic, a flavor that I couldn't define. I was a rabid animal in my frenzy to reach deeper, lick

further. I pulled her labia open on one side, exploring every fold. My teeth dug into the soft meat of her ass, and when she started to shake, I gripped her hips even harder to keep her on her feet. “You like this, don't you?” I whispered against her, the layers of the wedding dress drifting over my back. “No. Actually, you fucking love this. Did you even know how greedy your pussy was? That it needed to be adored like this?” “People—ah! People are going to hear us!” “I want them to hear us. I want everyone to know how good I'm fucking my future wife in here. That she belongs to me, and that I can't go more than a few minutes without craving her cunt.” “Fuck,” she gasped, straining to push her hips back into my face. Nudging my fingers lower, I pet her clit in quicker strokes. Nix whimpered, sweat starting to shine across her thighs. “You're close, baby doll. You're right there. Need me to push you over the edge?” “Yes! Please, yes, just... fuck... I'm...” “Cumming,” I chuckled, filling her pussy with two fingers—then three—as she started to buck. “Yeah, I know, and it's making my cock rock hard.” Growling, I rolled my eyes in my skull and shivered. She was gyrating all over my hand, her knees rattling.

Nix must have pushed her fist against her mouth, because her obscene cries were muffled. The noise she made when I yanked my fingers out, snapping her panties in two, wasn't. “I can't wait anymore,” I said, throwing my belt to the floor. Standing, I shoved my zipper down, the release finally easing the pain of my compacted cock. Nix twisted, panting as she looked back at me. It was a gorgeous sight; those wide eyes, flushed cheeks, wet lips. Grabbing her hair, I forced her to arch so I could reach her eager mouth and kiss her. This woman... why had I tried fighting against my desire for her? She was mine. My sanity lied in embracing that fact. “Abell,” she moaned, rolling against me. “Never stop kissing me.” Smiling around her lips, I hoisted my cock out of my briefs, rubbing it over the top of her ass. It pulsed with my need, smearing precum over her skin. Dipping it down, I slid the fat head over her soaked entrance. As I started to slide in, I twirled my tongue across hers. “Ready?” I asked. Swallowing, she tried to break the kiss. “Wait, no, we need a condom.” Capturing her mouth roughly with mine, I pushed her to the wall, making the stall quake with the impact. “No condom,” I hissed. My cock nudged at her, sinking

in a mere inch but spreading her pussy all the same. “You're marrying me, remember? I want everything that entails. Your pussy is mine, Nix Halloway.” I spread her further; she whimpered. “I'm going to brand it with my cum, it belongs to me.” I was on a wild ride mixed from lust and obsession. Nix was everything I wanted, I ached to my very root with a primal urge to fill her with my seed. Then she'd be mine, every man in the world would know she was my wife once she was swollen with my baby. Don't, a small voice of reason warned me. Don't get her pregnant. You can't be a father, you're terrible... this world is fucking terrible... My logic was worn down by my frantic hunt for release. Nix was trying to kiss me, but her brain was firing just enough to keep her standing. She ground back on me, demanding more of my cock as I fed it to her ever so lovingly. I was sweating bullets by the time my balls brushed her sweet ass. Holding her by her hair, I licked her neck. My nose was in her ear, my voice gritty and thick. “Tell me to fuck you.” “Fuck me,” she said softly, writhing on my shaft as I pinned her, not moving. “Louder.” “Fuck me!” she sobbed, fingers spreading on the wall.

Bringing my lips to the deep groove between her shoulders, I breathed out. “That's what I needed to hear.” Sliding back, we both heard her wetness. Nix was dripping; I looked down, holding her hips and enjoying the sight. My cock was shining with her juice, and I was leaving fingerprints across her plump skin. Driving into her, I groaned and threw my head back. Holy hell! She felt too good, pleasure spiking through my body. My cock swelled, the sensation leaving me breathless. Nix wanted to slam her thighs back into me, desperate for the entirety of my length. I held her steady, my muscles flexing to keep my control. “I set the pace, babe. I'll fill this pretty pussy with my cum when I'm ready.” She watched me, hazy with bliss. Leaning in, I thumbed her lower lip open, nibbling. I didn't know what I preferred; the taste of her pussy or her mouth. Again and again, I thrust inside of her. She clung to me with her wet walls, sucking at me, begging me to stay deep. My speed made her thrum from being forced to endure the careful pace. I was holding back. I didn't want to finish yet. I didn't... want this to end. I don't want US to end. Why was I scared of that? Because you remember how it hurt to lose someone you loved.

Gritting my teeth, I bent my head and shut my eyes. Stop. Stop that right fucking now. Sex was supposed to bury those memories. Numb me from the sensation of joy... of longing... Love. But here I was, wrapped up with Nix, and my escape plan was failing. Being close to her was doing the opposite of what sex was for. Quenching my urges should have made me forget anything and everything that tied me to my emotions. Nix was forcing me to experience all of it. Breathing through my nose, I held her closer. I didn't want to see her face, I longed for the darkness behind my eyelids. She made a noise, and I fucked up—I looked at her again. Her eyes were shining, every barrier of hers torn away so I could see the genuine need in her stare. That look was for me. I'd done that to her, and she was letting me see into her heart. The wave of heat I was riding finally crashed. My prick jerked inside of her, filling her to capacity. Tension spread through her pussy, distributing over me like a second skin. That connection left me seeing far away planets. “Fuck!” I shouted, not caring that everyone for miles might hear. Nix vibrated, squeezing me as she came on

my cock. Her nails left marks on the wall, hair hiding her face in a wild spray of copper color. Throwing my head back, I stroked inside of her quicker—less controlled. Pressure expanded in my lower belly, electric pleasure moving through me until it brushed the veins of my swollen cock. Shuddering, I hissed, “I'm going to fill you the fuck up, Nix. This pussy is mine... you're mine... I...” Trailing off, I dug my hands into her hips. Locking her against that wall, I shot warm, creamy seed inside of her. Nix had stopped trying to be quiet; she screamed, thrashing through her orgasm, riding mine out. Every pulse of my cock made her twitch. Every twitch she gave back made my heart spasm. “Abell...” She said my name like she was making a wish. Looking down, I realized that at some point, I'd switched the position of my hands. My palm was cradling her tummy, holding her possessively. How long had we been standing like this? Holding each other up, the white folds of her wedding dress tickling our skin? I didn't know. Time had stopped being reliable. Something slid over the top of my fingers; Nix's nails. She clasped me against her stomach, holding me there. The ringing in my ears went on, neither of us speaking.

What did we just do? I wondered if I was insane. She could be pregnant. And that... that should have bothered me. She traced her touch over my hand. On some unspoken cue, she fell away, and I backed up—freeing her. She isn't free. If I'd just knocked her up, neither of us would be free from the other. For years... for our whole lives... something would tie us together that was stronger than a marriage vow. Nix straightened up, her dress falling around her hips as she faced me. The lights in the stall were subtle, but under them, she looked like a queen. A snow queen, I thought. No. Fire. Both. She was hot in all the right ways, and her chill kept her from burning out. Nix was the perfect balance. Lifting her eyes to mine, she hesitated. A flicker of uncertainty passed between us in the air. This was where it would all fall apart. Now that the blinding rush of sex was gone, what could keep us from seeing how wrong we were to be doing this? Nix pressed a hand to her belly and said, “Now you have to marry me.” I froze. “What?” “If I'm pregnant... we have to do this. There's no turning back now.” She was staring me down, almost

feral in her edginess. She wasn't asking me a question, but I knew, deep down, she really was. She wanted to know if I'd run away. It was what I'd always done. It kept me safe from being hurt. And from hurting anyone else. My feet moved; the small distance was erased. Curling my arms around her, I searched her face until I could have drawn it from memory. Nix was stiff, waiting for me to answer before she would relax. “I already told you,” I said softly, “You're my future wife. You belong to me.” Under my touch, she collapsed. Her arms circled me, temple landing on my chest. It was the position we'd held at the party, hiding away in that secret room. Only this time, when we kissed... We didn't stop.

- Chapter Eleven Nix

I'd done it. I'd literally fucked my way into trouble. Every calculated decision I'd made in my life, it had run screaming out the door after what I'd done—what we'd done—in that stall. Abell had broken our agreement. He'd had sex with me again. And I... I was just as much to blame. Brushing the zipper of my jacket, I cradled my stomach. I hadn't just slept with Abell Birch, playboy extraordinaire. I'd also let him cum inside of me. I could be pregnant. Never in my life had I thought about having kids. My parents had soured me on the idea with how they'd treated me and Gram. But there was an upside to their denial of the typical fuzzy and fun childhood. They'd raised me to be a perfect marketing genius, a woman who could run their company. I hadn't wanted to be a mother, or a wife, or anyone but a top CEO. Until now.

Shivering in the early morning breeze, I watched my feet as I walked. The world around me felt distant, almost fake. Nothing held my focus except my hazy future with Abell. I need to talk to him. We'd said so many words while my wedding dress had hung off of me like the husk of a flower. The questions I still had... the worries... had bloomed full force over the past few days. This stuff wasn't phone call material. I had to see him in person. Approaching his apartment, I lifted my eyes. It was early, I assumed he wouldn't be awake yet. I'd barely slept, myself. On the curb, I noticed a midnight blue car. I couldn't say what kind it was, just that it looked expensive—brand new. Of course, this was New York City, so fancy cars weren't a shock. The man who stepped out was. “Mr. Birch,” I said automatically, pulling up short. Corin looked at me, his black-gloved hands gripping the edge of his door. “Miss Halloway, what are you doing here?” I worked my jaw, trying to come up with a good answer, all while struggling to make sense of why my luck was so bad. I had no love for this man, especially after what I'd learned about how he'd treated his late wife.

Hiding my disgust would be a challenge. “I'm here to see Abell. Is that a problem?” His face was as flat as a frozen lake. “I'm surprised to see you seeking him out. I didn't think Abram was someone you wanted to associate with by choice.” I stood taller, digging for the part of me that wasn't intimidated by big wigs like Corin Birch. After all, I'd faced down plenty of pinch-faced men in thousanddollar suits while working for Halloway Inc. Who was he to scare me? “We need to discuss a few things,” I said. “I hope one of them is the grandchild you owe me.” My hackles went up. On reaction, I grabbed at my belly. Corin saw this, his eyes flicking down to my hands, then to my face. Had I given myself away? “You know,” I said slowly, “There's a chance that won't happen. What if I can't get pregnant?” His smile was dripping with slime. “You should really read that contract better. It's not just about the wedding. The clause is quite clear, pregnant within the first year... or everything reverts back to Birch Industries.” A clause? Of course, Corin wasn't the type to allow wiggle room. I should have known. My nails chewed into my palms. “Why do you even want a grandchild? You have no love for your own son, how could you care about someone he helped create?”

I must have hit a sensitive spot, because I glimpsed his eyes darkening. Corin carried his own personal shadow, and it made his edges razor-like; a human sword that itched to cut me in two. “Abram is a fuckup, Miss Halloway. A fact that will always be my shame. But there's a chance his child will be nothing like him. Especially with me around to keep him in line.” He keeps calling his own son a fuckup. That made me bristle. It was true that Abell had some bad habits, but the more time I spent with him, the more good I saw. Unable to hold back, I spoke with a low, clipped tone. “You're wrong about him.” He leaned away, eyebrows furrowing harshly. “Excuse me?” “Abell isn't as bad as you think, and as his father, you shouldn't say such cruel stuff about him.” His silence was deafening. The man studied me as if he wanted to find the easiest way to dissect my body. “Are you falling for him, Miss Halloway?” Tripping on my own tongue, I stuttered. “That—what —no! Of course not!” The question left me floating, every possible answer scary in its own way. Wordlessly he turned, ducking into his car. With the window down, he leaned towards me. “Tell Abell I'll come back later, once he's... done with you.” He started to roll the window up, then stopped. “Never instruct me on how to speak about my son. You don't have the right.”

I didn't have a response. I was saved from trying; he drove away from the curb, vanishing down the street. What the hell was that about? I was curious why Corin had been here, was it to berate Abell? Tell him he had better move forward, get me pregnant? Recalling the slow burn in his voice when he asked if I was falling for his son, I quivered. It was a good question, but not one I wanted to answer. Pregnant by the first year. Again, I found myself touching my stomach. The habit was becoming unconscious. I have to see Abell. Climbing the steps, I pressed the buzzer for the building. No one answered. Frowning, I pushed again, wondering if Abell was so asleep he couldn't hear. Dammit. Sighing impatiently, I dug for my phone, thinking of just calling him. As I turned, I caught movement to my right. Abell was jogging down the sidewalk, red sneakers pumping as fast as his fists. In one hand, he clutched a black hoodie. His arms were exposed in a muscle-shirt, shiny from sweat so that his tattoo sleeves looked fresh and glossy. One look at his fit body, and it was easy to forget how strange Corin Birch had been acting. But wasn't Abell freezing? He's got too much natural heat to freeze.

After all, it was easy to remember how warm his palms had been when he'd slid them along my spine. The guy is stupidly hot. And I was stupid for being weak to that. “Hey,” Abell said, slowing down beside me. He leaned in, lips pressing to mine before I knew what was happening. Weren't sweaty people supposed to smell bad? Abell gave off waves of pheromones and sharp pine. I didn't have time to snap to my senses and end the kiss; he pulled away first, grinning wide. “I guess I'll say 'hey' again,” he chuckled. Blinking rapidly, I touched my mouth. “What was that for?” Fuck fuck, slow down you crazy heart! “It wasn't for anything.” He hooked his hoodie over his shoulder. “I just wanted to kiss you.” Pure joy radiated inside of me. “Really?” “Sure. Who wouldn't want to kiss their beautiful fiance?” I swallowed once, then I swallowed again. Turning towards his apartment, Abell pointed with his chin. “Were you standing out here waiting for me?” “Ah, yeah.” Now you look desperate. Good job. Poking my toe into the sidewalk, I smiled. “I wanted to... talk.” I'd wanted to talk, but now, gawking over his perfect specimen of a body, I had other ideas. Perception burned in his frosty eyes. “Your poker face isn't as good as you think it is.”

Adrenaline spiked through me. “What?” Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me against his hip, guiding me up the steps. “Get inside. Now.” In a flash we were in the building, his apartment door rising up. He ripped it open, nudging me through. The wood slammed behind us. Dazed, I turned towards him. “Abell—” He advanced on me, gripping my cheeks in his hands. His face was inches from mine, his smirk ravenous. “You come here, to my home, the place where we first fucked, and you think I don't know what you're looking for?” His breath scorched my ear, teeth brushing the tender skin. “You came back for more of my cock, didn't you?” My tongue was sluggish, speaking was a struggle. What do I say? Abell had changed our dynamic. After he'd proven he had the guts to fuck me in my wedding dress, in public no less, I knew he had no limits. I'd always been so tough and high strung. But with him, my body—my mind—wanted to collapse into a black hole. I wanted to give in, let him flood my cells with pleasure until I was blind and deaf to the world. His hand grabbed my ass through my jeans, squeezing. “Answer me. Did you come here for more of my delicious cock?” Thrusting, he ground his steel-hard erection against me. My pussy clenched in a helpless response. “No—I mean, not at first.”

It was too hard to look at him. I tried to face away, but he cupped my jaw, forcing me back. “Then why come all the way here?” he asked. My palm brushed my stomach. “To talk about... what we did.” His nostrils flared, eyes shining. “We can talk, and we can fuck. Best of both worlds.” “Wait, we can't!” I lifted my hands; he grabbed my wrists, kissing the sensitive skin on the inner part. “I want to do it again.” Nuzzling my cheek, he reached down, popping my coat open. “Cumming inside of you was addictive. I need more of that, I want to feel you writhing around, itching for that piece of me.” I couldn't see past the corner of his tempting mouth. The room spun, Abell tossing me against his bed. The white walls around me were too familiar. “Abell, listen.” I sat up on my elbows, my heart reverberating as he approached. “What we did at the bridal shop was too risky. There's a chance I'm pregnant, a chance I'm not. We can't be so reckless again, not until...” Not until I know you're really staying by my side. He threw his hoodie to the floor, tearing his shirt over his head. “You really think that there's a chance I didn't knock you up?” His running pants hung low, his hipbones commanding my attention. The dragon tattoo stamped over his stomach writhed like it was alive.

Words, how do I make words. “Yeah,” I said. “A chance.” “Then we'd better fix that.” His deft fingers were already untying the strings around his middle. It took me a minute to grasp his meaning. His pants fell away, leaving him standing there in his tight, form-fitting briefs. He might as well have been naked. Abell winked at me; his hard-on flexed under the fabric. I should have walked away. I should have demanded we talk. Stepping forward, I gripped his prick and squeezed. Abell bared his teeth, grunting in his throat. “You really want to do this?” I asked, tracing him top to bottom. “We don't need to do it bareback. Actually, I could even...” Before I knew it, I was on my knees. His fingers wrapped along my scalp like a vice. “I like where your mind is.” Gazing down at me, he inched his briefs down. The top of his cock was exposed. Abell's natural musk created a suffocating fog in my brain. Tugging the elastic away, I let his dick free into the air. It tapped my nose, bobbing at full mast. Entranced, I just knelt there, fixated on the sight of it. “I love this view,” he said above me. Peeking up, I shook myself. Closing my fist around his base, I was struck by how small my hand looked. My thumb couldn't touch my forefinger.

Dragging my grip up his length, I felt him spasm. Holy shit, I thought to myself. If I angle it right, his cock is thick enough to block out my view of his face. I didn't want to block his face, though. Abell was a dream to look at. Wetting my lips, I circled the engorged tip. Carefully I slid down; I was choking in a mere second. Above me, Abell hissed with restraint. He loves this. That realization was empowering. Sucking him, his shaft pulsed along my tongue. I sank further, working at fighting my gag reflex. Gingerly, I explored with my hands, cupping his balls; they flexed at my gentle touch. The longer I lubed his cock up, the easier the blowjob became. The obscene sound of my lips and tongue suckling at him hung in the air. He was delicious; better than any sweet I'd ever indulged in. “Stop, wait,” he gasped. Pulling away quickly, he created a wet pop of suction. “I'd love to cum in your mouth. I would. But I don't want this to be wasted.” Inching backwards on the bed, he stretched out. I was still kneeling, and from this view, he looked like a king. His cock was arching like a tower, his hand fisting the base, gliding over my slick saliva. “Ride me,” he growled. “I want to look at the face of my future wife as she loses herself on my cock.”

Jumping to my feet, I scrambled to remove my clothes. He watched languidly, jerking his prick in a comfortable, calm fashion. My weight settled on the mattress. Throwing one leg over his body, I straddled him. Our pieces lined up, so in sync we could have been made for each other. Gingerly I pulled myself down on him. That initial penetration still made me gasp. I wasn't a size queen, but fuck, Abell pushed my limits. Every fraction of movement made him sink deeper inside of me. That magnificent dick was stretching me, on and on until I was holding my breath before I reached the bottom. Abell grabbed my hips, guiding me down the final inch. I inhaled violently, thrilling at the sensation of being so full. He nudged me, encouraging me to start moving. “You're almost too big,” I groaned. “Once you start fucking me, you'll adjust,” he whispered. But he was wrong. It didn't matter how much I ground on him, or how slippery my thighs felt. My pussy would start to relax, and his cock would just swell bigger. It was like he kept expanding, making sure I'd always feel that same head-swimming tension. It was making me delirious; it was too good, too tight, too hot. I was boiling from my center out, sweat streaming just below my breasts.

“Dammit,” he said under his breath. I looked him in the eye, reading his lips because my brain was too busy being assaulted by pleasure to hear. “You're perfect. Beyond perfect.” He tilted my body, forcing my swollen clit to rub against his firm pelvis. Thrusting onto his cock, I groaned, back arching to the max. My pussy was a mess, and the tattoos beneath me were covered in my juices. There were flames of ink licking up his hips and belly. I was so wet, if they'd been real, I'd have put them out. My insides fluttered, wild heat flowing into my cunt. As my clit twitched, the rest of me followed. “Oh, hell,” I breathed out. The mounting pressure grew, my pussy squeezing over and over like a pair of lungs that needed air. Spikes of delirious pleasure hit me hard. When I finally came, I held my breath, my jaw locking as my eyes closed. “There you go,” he said, his voice as thick as syrup. “Keep cumming, babe. Keep fucking going.” He commanded me, and I listened. Shaking, I slid my hands across his chest, seeking anything to hold me down. I felt so good, I worried I would float through the ceiling any second. My pussy clenched, hugging his stiff shaft as it pistoned into me. He hadn't slowed down, he was riding

through my orgasm. Abell was pushing me further, eager to see what I could take. Once, I'd told him I liked a bit of pain. I'd just been boasting; I didn't mix pain and sex ever in my life. He opened my mind, pounding into me with the core-shaking thrusts of a man who could do nothing but fuck. It was perpetual motion, both of us trapped until we burned out. “I'm so close,” he groaned, slick with sweat. “This pussy is mine, do you hear me?” His palm came around, slapping my ass—I squealed. “Mine. No one else is ever going to have it.” If I hadn't been so drained, I would have cum again. “Yes,” I drawled. “It's yours. I'm... I'm yours.” What was I saying? I was too far gone to consider any of it. Abell trembled down to his toes, I felt it in his skin. He bent his spine, his balls contracting against my ass cheeks. “There, there it is, I'm...!” He didn't need to finish his sentence. Warm, fast explosions of liquid flooded into me. His cock jerked to the beat of his rapid heart. Dizzy, I swayed on top of him. His fingers dug into my thighs, keeping me still, stuffing me with his seed— making me his. Even when he was empty, he kept rolling his hips, that cock still hard. The raw, animal part of me loved that. Inhaling, he curled his arms around me, bringing me to him. I went eagerly, kissing him even as my vision went blurry.

I had nothing left in me. I was spent. Abell had conquered my body and mind in a way no one could have. Hell, no one could even come close to. He'd ruined me for anyone else. And I knew it. I fucking knew it. Without knowing when, I drifted off into darkness **** Blue tulips filled my dreams. As I sat among them, they tickled my ankles, my eyelids. It was real serenity, a constant, peaceful thumping sound in my ears. But for some reason, instead of floral, the air smelled like... Maple and pine. My lashes fluttered. Around me, plain white walls stretched to the ceiling. Next to me, his heat and heart pulsing away, was Abell. He was naked on top of the blankets, peacefulness making his features gentle. This was deja vu. Abell mumbled, shifting beside me. As if woken by my stare, his eyes opened. The room had darkened, his blue centers like sapphires at the bottom of the sea. Wait. Where had the sun gone? “Did we fall asleep?” I asked, sitting up. “What time is it?” “Around six.” He pointed at his bedside clock. “Guess we both needed the rest after... well.” Chuckling

at how I squirmed, he slid off of the blankets and grabbed his jeans. “Come on. I'll give you a ride home.” Together we descended the stairs, shuffling into his Ferrari in the garage. He had been right, it was after six and already the sun had set. Buildings glowed around us, the ever present color of the holidays. We were both quiet, reflecting on what we had done. Glancing at him, I said, “We never got to talk.” “We did plenty of talking.” “No,” I said, fidgeting. “About... us. What we're doing.” We rolled under an overhang. As we did, Abell was bathed in pure midnight and rich ink, escaping every fragment of light. “We're getting married. I'm making you my wife. What else is there?” Love. I didn't have the guts to say it. Abell pulled up beside my apartment. He didn't cut the engine; I knew he wasn't coming inside. His hands were glued to the wheel, as if he could never let go. “Well,” I started to say, reaching for my door handle. “I guess I'll see you.” In such a small space, so close to him, I sensed his energy shift. Abell twisted, reaching out for me so fast that I was stunned. My head hit the window—not painfully, but enough to make a sound. Abell's kiss was feverish, born from an ache I understood, but wasn't ready to believe in.

Then it was over; he leaned back, breathing heavily. His eyes darted from mine, to my lips, then out the window. “I... have a good night, Nix. See you around.” See you around? The guy was forcing himself to be disconnected. “Yeah. See you.” Stepping out of the car, I perched in the middle of the sidewalk and looked around. No wind blew, the air was stale and calm. The city had an empty, quiet feeling to it. Less like the end of the world, and more like I was living in a cocoon. Did that make me the caterpillar? And if so... When this was over with, what would I emerge as?

- Chapter Twelve Abell

I watched her vanish into her apartment, just sitting there in my car and... watching. What is happening to me? It was insanity, and I knew it. Pure fucking insanity. I want her. More than just for a quick fuck, more than just to hear her moan, though that was glorious in its own right. What I wanted from Nix was deeper. It pulled at me, as if it were a memory coming to the surface. This woman was creating an ache in me that only got worse the longer I let her scratch it. Slamming my fist against the steering wheel, I gave a hollow laugh. “I'm losing my mind. My entire fucking mind.” This thing with Nix had shifted from a method to keep my money—and the loose women—into something so much more. I hadn't wanted it to, I hadn't even dreamed it could! But here I was, sitting outside her apartment, wishing I could find an excuse to go inside and see her again. Just to look at her face, hear her voice. Was this what love was?

I revved the engine hard, burning rubber as I floored it away. My fingers went to turn the radio on; the missing knob reminded me of how I'd freaked out weeks ago. Pushing the eject button, I gingerly slid the CD of rock music out. It felt fragile in my hand. The reflective edge bounced the street lights back at me when I twisted it in the air. If we hadn't met that night... if we hadn't hooked up... Would any of this be different? If I'd met Nix for the first time during that meeting, would it have been easier to close off to her? How funny, to think that a simple fling would become the root of my weakness. Bristling with too many different emotions, I dropped the CD and ripped out my beaten up pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, I pulled into the garage below my apartment. The buzzing of my phone startled me. Shoving the cigarette to the corner of my lips, I parked the car and clicked the green button on my cell phone. “Hello?” “Mr. Birch,” a robotic voice crackled. “Do you have a moment?” Screwing my eyebrows up, I opened the door, stepping into the garage. “That depends, who's calling?” “Someone with a message.” Chuckling, I dropped the cigarette, crushing it with my heel. The tobacco just didn't taste as good as it used

to. After having Nix, nothing compared. “A message? Is this a prank?” The voice hissed with distortion. “More like a warning. Walk away from her, and you'll be compensated. Stay with her, and you'll ruin her life.” Every fiber of my being locked up. “What?” “You don't have to marry anyone, you'll be free, and with a million dollars in your pocket. Wouldn't it be nice to be your own man, answering to no one—not even your father?” “Who the hell is this?” I asked, crushing the phone. “Think about it. You're broken, and deep down, you know you'll destroy her if you stay with her. Why make both of you unhappy? Decide what you want: the money, or to see her heart become black and ruined by your flaws. And if you tell anyone about this phone call, the deal is off. Tread carefully, Mr. Birch.” There was a sharp click, then my phone went silent. Holding the device at a distance, I just stared. What the fuck was that? They can't be serious. Fury rattled through my bones, the edges of my phone creaking from the pressure. Who the fuck would DARE threaten to split up me and Nix? That woman belonged to me. I'd never harm her. Yet, somehow, those robotic words rung painfully true.

I'd always believed the world was cruel and terrible. Why was I exempt? Fuck, I knew I wasn't special. I was as selfish as anyone. Was marrying Nix actually going to wreck her heart? Her life? What's the point in bribing me? Someone had an agenda. They were trying to tempt me into avoiding the marriage, and I had no clue why. Was it someone I knew? My skull hurt from all the questions I had. One of them kept fluttering out front like a giant moth: If this marriage made me happy, but shattered her heart in the long run... Could I really go through with it? **** I'd chugged every beer I could find in my apartment. The bottle of brandy that had been under my sink, too. Distantly, I knew I was being destructive. These were old habits—or sort of old. It had been barely a month since I'd met Nix, could a man really change himself in that amount of time? I don't need to change. I never could have, anyway. My phone sat on my coffee table. I eyeballed it as I paced. It might as well have been a loaded gun.

Who fucking called me? What the hell do I do? Since my mother had died, the only person I'd ever relied on was myself. Nix had started to slip inside my ribs, dangerously close to my heart, but... I couldn't talk to her. Not until I came to some sort of conclusion about what to do. Marrying her could ruin her. But running could do the same. Baring my teeth, I jammed my knuckles into the wall. The plaster exploded; I was lucky as hell I didn't hit a stud. Shaking my hand, ignoring the smear of blood from the broken skin, I took a swig from the empty brandy bottle. “Shit,” I said to the air. “I need more alcohol.” This edge had to be drowned. The stress that boiled in my veins was heating me up, and not in a good way. I have to get out of here, I need to just... just move around. I needed to escape. My bare skin was sweating, I'd ripped my shirt off after I'd spilled beer on it. Stumbling into my bedroom, I grabbed the first shirt I could find in the dark. I slid it on, my jacket following as I stumbled out the door. More booze, I thought, slapping my arms to ward off the cold. Alcohol would warm me, just as it would erase my concerns. There was no better friend than a full bottle.

It was late, the winter clouds bloated and dark. The air that bit me warned of snow. Along the street, shops had decorated their awnings with red and green lights. The cheerful glow guided me into the first bar I could find. I didn't even read the name. Distantly, I knew what I was doing. I knew it as the scent of stale margaritas and filthy bathrooms hit me. I probably knew it before then, actually. It wasn't just a blackout drunkeness that I needed. My cures involved soft tits and muscled thighs around my middle. That'd hurt her. What, did I have a conscience suddenly? You always did. I had to shut my inner thoughts up with more booze. Sitting at the bar with my skull pounding, I waved the bartender closer. “Give me something hard.” He didn't hesitate, he slid me a thick mug filled with amber liquid. I chugged the glass; it didn't matter what it was, it wasn't about taste—just the numbness. She'll be ruined by me if I go through with this. Her... And the baby. No, there was a chance I could be a good father. Fuck that chance, how could I rely on that possibility? How could I ever keep going if Nix... and my child... if their lives were tainted because of me?

Growling, I dug my injured hand into my knee. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about them. Picturing Nix just made everything worse. “Hey, never expected to see you again.” Turning, I studied the blonde woman. She had on a sparkly, skin-tight dress, completely inappropriate for the weather. A Try-Hard, I thought distantly. I hadn't had one of those in forever. Wait. Blinking, I recognized the woman speaking to me. “You're Trish, right?” The girl we rescued during the music concert. Laughing, she took a deep pull from her drink. “Yup. Funny, I didn't think the notorious Abram Birch remembered the names of any women.” My guts contorted as if razor-wire had been wound through them. She wasn't wrong; the list of women I'd forgotten was a long one. Twisting my palm through my hair, I forced an empty smile. “That's only girls I sleep with. Not the ones I save.” Her eyes twinkled, hip cutting a sharp angle as she leaned closer. “Ah. You know, I didn't even recognize who you were that night in the park.” “Well, you had just been attacked.” Trish paused, her eyes hooding. “It was a strange night. I was lucky that girl came along.” That girl. “Nix,” I said. “Her name is Nix.”

She pursed her lips, considering me with fresh eyes. “You know her name? Guess you didn't sleep with her after all. I figured you would.” It should have been obvious before. Somehow, it took Trish saying it to drive the point home. I didn't forget Nix's name. My heart was jolted, electricity running through my tongue. I didn't forget her! In all my life, that had never happened. Women came and went through my bedroom. They left their panties, they left hickies, but not until now had any of them left a memory. Only her. Only Nix Halloway. “Nice shirt,” Trish said, fingering the edge of the garment's neck. That was when I looked down, realizing what I'd put on in my near panic. The shirt she bought for me. In a daze, I ran my palm over the front of it. The red color made the cuts on my knuckles stand out vibrantly. That day rushed back to me; the flower shop, the tulips, the admission to Nix about making her jealous... The ice cream we'd sat and ate together. All of it stole my oxygen until I was light headed. “So,” Trish purred, sliding her fingers over my shoulder. “Do you want to go back to your place, or mine?”

I stood up too fast, the bar stool went toppling. Trish backed up a step, her confusion turning her pale. “Sorry,” I said, slamming money down on the bar. “I can't do that.” Laughing self-consciously, she tossed her hair. “Why not?” “Because I'm about to be a married man.” Trish stammered, but she said nothing else as I marched out that door and back into the dark night. Oddly enough, it wasn't that cold anymore. Or perhaps that was just the energy burning in my blood. Digging my phone out, I scanned my recent calls as I walked. There, that one. Redialing the number, I listened to the ringing. “Hello again,” the robotic voice said. My breath was like a dragon's fiery steam. “Fuck you.” “Excuse me?” “I said fuck you.” Something wet tickled my forehead. “I don't know who you are, but you can't force me to stay away from Nix. Money, threats, it doesn't matter. That woman is mine, do you hear me? Mine!” There was a long pause on the line. “You're making a mistake.” “The only mistake I made was listening to your offer.” Slamming the phone closed, I endured the pounding of my ears. Alcohol had left me disoriented, but my

determination and rage had cleansed me. The world was bright again. Once more, something cold bit at my skin. Water dripped down my arm, burning at the cuts healing on my hand. Looking up into the black sky, I shut my eyes and inhaled. It had started to snow.

- Chapter Thirteen Nix

The number of missed calls from Abell glowed at me. “Something on your mind?” the caterer in front of me asked. Poking at the food sample on my plate, I smiled halfheartedly. “Kind of. It's nothing, really.” She nodded, clearly not caring about my personal issues. I shouldn't have to waste time with this, I thought in frustration. My mother had informed me that Corin Birch had been serious at his party, he'd insisted on arranging a reception for his friends and business partners after my ceremony. I had an unsettling feeling he wanted to parade me around. “Which entree do you like?” she prodded me. “So far you've tried the lemon chicken, fried chicken, herb chicken, roast chicken...” The woman rambled on until it all blurred together. Scanning the long table covered in plates, I coughed. “Uh, they're all great.” How many kinds of chicken ARE there?

My phone buzzed again. Peeking down, I saw the text message: Abell: Call me back. I need to see you. The itch to contact him—hear his voice—was massive. Playing with the edge of my phone, I fidgeted. I can't do it here, I'll wait until I leave, then— In my hand, my phone began to vibrate. Every chamber of my heart copied that sensation, coming alive with expectation. I couldn't resist any longer. “Excuse me,” I said, pressing the phone to my ear. “I have to take this.” But it wasn't Abell. “Nix,” Gram said, the instant I answered. “We need to meet up and talk.” I leaned forward, cupping my hand around for privacy. “What's wrong?” “Just meet me in twenty minutes, the coffee shop on Brentwood.” The severity in his tone wasn't subtle. Something was up, and when it came to Gram, if he thought it was serious... I did, too. “I'll be there,” I said. The catering woman stared at me, probably wishing she could stuff the chicken down my throat. I ignored her. “See you.” Clicking my phone, I faced her with the most apologetic smile I had in my arsenal. “Listen, I need to go.” Her mouth went frog-like in its shape. “But the chicken!”

“Right, yeah.” I pointed without looking, jumping to my feet. “That one, that was the best.” “That—that's an empty plate!” Shoving through the door, I shouted, “Fine! The last one you mentioned!” I didn't care about a damn chicken. My brother was waiting for me. **** Busting through the jingling door, I was hit by a wave of heat. The coffee shop was toasty, a sharp contrast to the winter world outside. Snow had fallen last night, blanketing the city in a cap of frosty white. I didn't need to look hard to find Gram; he was standing in a booth to my left, waving an arm rapidly. Waving back, I jogged over to him. “Hey!” I said, “There you are! What's the big emergency? I was in the middle of some major chicken eating, and I think I might have picked empty plates for the reception.” I was smiling, but Gram was pale. “Sit down, Nix.” Warily, I settled into the seat across from him. “Okay. I don't like this. What's wrong, Gram?” Leaning towards me, he shoved his shoulders high. “You have to back out of the wedding.” Trying to digest his words, I ended up staring blankly at his face. “Nix?”

I blinked, still working through his comment. “Sorry, say that again.” Exasperated, he grabbed my hands on the table. “Focus! I said you can't go through with this! It's wrong. He's wrong for you.” Shaking myself, I said, “You called me here to tell me that?” Laughing without humor, I bent closer. “Gram, final hour much? The wedding is in two days.” He gripped my fingers tighter, voice lowering, but his intensity was the same. “Listen to me, Nicky. I'm warning you, wearing that ring is going to ruin your life.” I pulled my hands away, uncertainty cracking my nervous smile. “The guy is kind of a mess, yeah, but you don't know him. Not like I do.” “You think you know him?” Crinkling his brow, he took a deep breath. Doubt crept along my neck. “What, what is it?” Gram hung his head. “He isn't loyal to you, Nix.” Pushing my lips together, I buzzed them. “Pssshh. What are you talking about?” “Last night, Abell went out drinking.” As he talked, my heart turned cold—heavy. “He was with someone. Nix, he... he's not any different. He's the player you thought he was.” “No.” The word went free-falling from my lips. Inside, my mind battled with my intuition. Abell wouldn't do that to me. Under the table, I grabbed at my stomach

protectively. We have something, he's changed, he... “How,” I said, licking my lips. “How do you know he did this?” Lifting his phone, Gram waved it. “Someone sent me a photo.” Around me, the room began to go blurry. “Who?” “I don't know, I didn't recognize the number and they never responded to my texts.” “Show me.” “Nix—” “Show me.” Reluctantly, Gram placed the phone on the table between us. I reached out, and we both saw my hand was quivering. Flicking the screen on, I stared blankly at the image before me. It was fuzzy, the lighting was poor, but I had no doubt. That was Abell. And there was Trish. It stunned me that I remembered who she was. What is she doing with him? A million excuses ran through my head, stomping away until my skull was rioting. “Why?” I asked softly, unable to look away. “Why did he do it? Because he's a piece of shit, Nix! The guy never cared about you, he just wanted to have his cake and eat it, too.” I studied the photo, working to grasp any clue that it wasn't what it looked like. He wouldn't do this to me.

Especially not with the possibility of a pregnancy! “I have to talk to him.” Gram sat up straight, grabbing the phone from me. I held it for a second, then released. “Nix, no. You're going to get hurt.” “I already am hurt!” The rage in my tone shocked me. Gram was stunned as well. “What am I supposed to do? Walk away like you're telling me to? I'll lose everything—you'll lose everything!” Closing his eyes, Gram shook his head. “You don't need this company, Nicky. You can do other things.” “Like what?” I scoffed. “Anything! You're amazing, I don't think Gabby or Dad could run that place without you!” My ears were ringing, that photo stamped in my mind's eye. “And you? What about my promise to make your life better?” “It doesn't matter. I'm quitting.” My jaw dropped, nails digging into the table cloth. “What?” His smile was as frail as a snowflake. “I'm taking myself out of the equation. Don't worry about me, Nix. Worry about you, for once in your life.” “If you leave, you'll be giving up a job you love!” “What I loved was working with you. The rest of the job can take a hike.” His grin was playful, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Clutching my hair, I whispered, “I'm so confused. I need to understand how he could do this.” How he could abandon me... and his potential child. Jumping to my feet, I went to leave. Gram's hand stopped me. “Nicky, please. Don't give him the pleasure of your time. Just walk away. Isn't that possible?” With sorrow on my tongue, I whispered, “Not for me.” His thumb pressed into my skin, not painfully, just to hold my attention. “Stop sacrificing yourself for everyone, Nix.” “I'm not.” Tightness crept up my throat. “You are. It's your biggest flaw.” Bending down, I wrapped him in a hug so fierce it stole the air from both our lungs. “Gram, I promise that I'll make this work for both of us. Okay? Trust me.” “I do trust you. That's what makes me so worried. You'll find a way to help, you always have, and it's going to be at your expense.” Letting him go, I turned away as fast as I could. Maybe he's right. Is all of this going to hurt me somehow? Fuck it. I was already hurt. I needed answers. Abell was the only one who had them.

- Chapter Fourteen Abell

The knock on my door was sharp. It reverberated through my apartment. Who the hell is that? I was in a black mood. All morning, I'd been calling Nix. For some reason she hadn't responded. Paranoid after the warning I'd received yesterday, I'd been marching around my apartment, preparing to head into the city and investigate her home. I wanted nothing more than to look on the face of the woman I'd fallen for. There was an indent on her lower lip that needed me to kiss it. Ripping open the door, I stared at that perfect indent again. Only now, it was part of a frown. “Nix,” I said, leaning into the hall, glancing around. “What are you doing here? Who buzzed you in? I've been trying to reach you all day!” “One of your neighbors,” she said. Leaning past me, she scanned my place. What was she looking for? “You buzzed someone else? Why?” Ruffling my hair, I reached for her. “Never mind, come inside and get warm.”

She dodged past me, leaving me holding the ghost of her presence. Nix stood in the middle of the room, as if going further would be dangerous. I shut the door quietly, moving towards her with wary steps. “Are you okay?” There. The fury in her eyes made me stand still. “No. I'm not okay at all.” I reached for her again, and once more, she sidestepped. “Nix! What the fuck is going on?” “You tell me.” Flipping out her phone, she showed me the screen. It took me a minute to recognize myself. That's... from last night. Baffled, I took her phone, studying the photo in horror. “What—how do you have this?” “Someone sent it to my brother, I had him send it to me. Abell, what were you doing last night?” “Who the fuck would take that picture?” She was terrifyingly somber. “Answer me about last night.” Maybe I could have lied. There was a chance she'd listen, accept whatever I said. The frailness in her green glare said, 'I want to believe you.' Nix was willing to listen. She wanted to think the best of me. But there was no reason to. The truth would show that. Handing her the phone, I lifted my head high. “You wanna know what I was doing? Exactly what you suspect.” Her face twitched. “I was getting wasted off my

ass, trying to run away from my problems, like I always fucking do. Is that surprising, somehow?” “Tell me you didn't sleep with her.” I balked. “With who? Trish?” My brain clicked. “That's why you busted in here, looking around. You thought she'd be here? That I'd actually cheat on you?” “How could I know what to think after seeing that photo?” she snapped. “Did you sleep with her?” “Of course I didn't!” Dragging my fingers down my skull, I started to pace side to side. “I'd never do that to you, Nix!” It was funny, arguing my morals like this. Me, Abell Birch, celebrated manwhore... saying that I didn't fuck somebody. Nix hadn't moved, she just seethed at me, uncertainty cracking her voice. “I want to believe you. It... it feels like the truth.” “Don't forgive me yet,” I said flatly. “What I did was worse than cheating. I debated abandoning you, saving you from my tainted, destructive life.” She bit at the air, lips pulling back. I'd never seen her so pissed. “You were actually going to run from me? From this?” She gestured sharply at her belly. It was flat, but I visualized what could be inside of her none the less. The energy went out of me. This anger was what I'd expected. I deserved to be attacked. Flopping onto the arm of my couch, I let my hands fall over my knees. “Yes. I was going to run.”

“Why?” The tension in her neck made the side of her jugular tick. I wanted to kiss it, make her blood run for another reason, but I didn't dare. Resting my head on my fist, I said, “To save you.” “Holy hell, Abell. You freaked me out because you were trying to martyr yourself?” Palming her forehead, she laughed. “You don't need to save me from yourself, I'm a big girl, I can make my own choices.” All I'd wanted before was to look upon her face. Now, it was hard to glance at her. “Abell?” She came closer, my floor creaking. “What are you hiding?” Can I tell her? Her fingers came down on my shoulder. It reminded me of when I'd grabbed her knee in the mall. “Abell.” I curled my fingers around hers. “I got a phone call last night. Someone bribed me to exit your life. They said you'd be ruined by me if I didn't walk out on the marriage.” The color drained from her skin. “You're not serious.” “I am. I didn't know what to do. How could I put you, and a child, through what my father put me through?.” “Then... our wedding, are you going to call it off?” And that was the real question. This woman, this glorious, funny, amazing woman... did I dare risk leaving her a husk of her former self?

She'd argued with me, tried to make me see that this world was good. Worth loving. That I was worth loving. Was her belief in me enough? “I've always run,” I whispered. “Since my mother passed, I've tried to escape ever caring a fraction about anyone else. I thought nothing would change that.” Lifting my eyes, I gave her a weak smile. “Then I met you.” She hit me like a bullet, knocking me back on the couch. Straddling my waist, she glowered down at me. “You aren't—you can't—dammit!” Her hair thrashed side to side. “You're not supposed to make me feel this way!” My mouth fell open, but I had nothing to say. Wasn't she going to scream at me, or at least punch me once or twice? “Nix...” “How am I supposed to handle all of this?” she asked. “You make my life far, far too unpredictable, Abell Birch.” I went to speak, but she shut me up, her lips stealing my words. The kiss was a firecracker, the sparks vanishing too quickly as she leaned away again. “What do we do about the phone call? Do we call the cops?” Right to business. That's my girl. “I don't know what they could do.” Holding her, I let a lick of my inner rage touch my voice. “But I won't let anyone come between

us. Not ever. I'll always protect you, Nix. You... and our baby.” Snuggling around me, Nix buried her face in the crook of my arm. “I want to tell you something, but looking at you—I don't know if I have the guts.” I chuckled. “You, of all people, scared of something? What could make you so nervous?” In my grip, Nix trembled. Whatever was getting to her, it was huge—momentous. And then I knew. There was only one thing that could shake the wild fire of this woman. Hugging her close, I coiled my fingers in her hair, creating a link that would have to be torn apart at the root before either of us could be freed. “Listen to me. I'll never be like my father. I'll never... ever make you cry. Understand?” I brushed her belly, my voice a growl. “I love you, Nix. I love you more than anyone I've ever known. I didn't know a love like this could even exist. But now I do. And I'll never forget.” Tears welled in her eyes, sliding over her cheeks like rain on spring leaves. I brushed them away; first with my thumb, then my lips. Grabbing my hand, she sobbed. “Abell—I love you, too. Tell me I'm crazy for feeling this way. Someone has to tell me that.” “You're crazy,” I said with a slow smile. “So am I. Guess it works out.”

Nix laughed, sniffling through her tears as she scrubbed them. “You said you'd never make me cry. You lied.” “Tears of joy don't count.” Blushing, she wrapped my arm around her shoulder, snuggling close. On impulse, I let my palm spread over her tummy. She startled, then settled in. “I don't want to say it, but there's a chance I'm not pregnant. You know that.” “No. There isn't.” She went pinker, the color I adored. But her words were terribly pained. “Everything we do is tainted. This baby... the wedding... we're under the control of our families, no matter what.” Cradling her head to my chest, I breathed in her scent. The couch pressed us together, our legs tangled. “This is the only way to have everything. I won't let you lose the future you dreamed of.” Nix was quiet. There was something behind her eyes, a mood... or a thought... that was just out of my reach. Her arms held me, her lungs flared, and her heart kept a pattern that matched mine. Together we lied there, and finally, the silence was broken by her gentle voice. “Is this the future I dreamed of?” I didn't have an answer.

- Chapter Fifteen Nix

In a tiny church, inside of a tinier room, I stared at myself in a mirror and wondered one thing. How had I gotten here? Persistence, I told myself. Dedication to my job. Insanity. People should be excited on their wedding day. As for me, I didn't know what to feel. At first, I'd hated the person I was being forced to marry, while craving the power it would bring me. Now it was the opposite. Life is funny. But what was I going to do about it? I'd come this far. My dream of being CEO felt so... hollow, now. Especially when I cradled my stomach, picturing Abell's hand there. This baby will have to interact with a bastard like Corin Birch. Not to mention my own parents. Pushing my perfectly coiffed hair behind my ear, I eyeballed my reflection. This was me, always so put together and impeccable. I'd been raised to be proper, to the point I was OCD over things like my damn hair. He loves it when it's messy.

Digging my fingers into my scalp, I ruffled the red strands until the hairpins fell out. I didn't want to be like this anymore. I wanted freedom! I wanted... Pushing myself to my feet, I caught the glitter of my dress in the bright lights. That pure, dove-colored dress, was the very same one Abell and I had fucked in. Brushing the pleats, I worked my palm up the beaded bodice. It was a beautiful dress. It gave me a serenity I didn't deserve. It looks better around my ankles. Someone knocked on my door. “Nichole,” my mother chirped, “It's time.” I did a slow spin, wanting to throw my head back and scream. What am I going to do? It was a pointless question. Once I went into the main church I'd be a prisoner for the rest of my life. But we'd get to keep Halloway Inc. I'd get to be CEO. That was worth it... Right? Cracking the door, I found my mom waiting for me. She had on a purple, turtle-neck style lace gown. “There you are,” she sighed. “Thank goodness. I thought you couldn't fit into that dress or something.” Her eyes flicked from my legs to my face. “It's a wonder you got it over your hips at all. And what happened to your hair?”

Hm. If I choke her, will her face match the purple color of her dress? She started moving down the empty hall. “Come on, everyone is waiting.” “Right. Nothing more romantic than a rushed wedding.” She lowered her eyebrows, evaluating me. Her tongue clicked. “This isn't about romance. It's about paying a debt.” “That you owe, not me.” “You'll get what's coming to you for doing this,” she hissed. “It's the only thing you ever cared about, anyway.” Cocking my head, I considered her words. Was this the only thing I cared about? Once, maybe, but now... now I had other things on my mind. Things that burned in my heart the way power and money never could have. Following her, we entered the main room. Someone had arranged flowers all over the pews and podium. The petals reminded me of tiny bluebirds, their wings pinned to their sides, unable to fly free. The tulips. Though there wasn't a hint of pine in the church, I still smelled it. Abell's scent was as much a part of me as breathing was. I knew he was nearby, even before I turned. He stood by the entrance, dressed in coal-black slacks and an open suit-jacket. His tie was slim, hanging

down his broad chest. He looked slick and clean, he looked... nothing like himself. In his breast pocket rested a tiny sprig of something. Mistletoe. The realization made me smile. It also cut through me like glass. “You're gorgeous,” he whispered, coming to meet me. “I thought you called me 'stunning' before,” I chuckled. Reaching out, he went to stroke my tangled hair. At the last second he stopped, looking over my shoulder. Turning, I spotted my parents and brother standing there. Corin hovered at their side, as did a man I didn't know. A priest, I realized. His face was kind, wrinkled hands folded at his middle. This was happening. It was honestly, actually happening. The church was eerily empty and quiet. This was a private event, it reminded me of some sort of wicked cult meeting. Guess that makes me the sacrifice. The priest bowed his head, motioning for everyone to stand in the aisle. “Are we ready?” Ready. What a word. Staring around at their faces, I gathered myself. “Wait!” Gram cried, lifting his hand. “Don't do this, Nicky! It's not worth it!” Startled, I stared at my brother. I wasn't the only one.

My mother rounded on him, her hands flexing at her sides. “You said if you came you'd stay silent! Don't get involved in this!” Standing to his full height, Gram shook his head. “No! I'm not going to let her ruin her life just because you all need her to!” The slap echoed through the church. My mother stood there, her palm raised high. Gram had wrenched away, his cheek flaring red from the hit. She hissed, “Why do you always insist on messing up my life? You'd risk our company, everything I've worked for, just so you can play hero?” Fire flared in her eyes. “You should've never been born, and I should have turned you away the day you came to my door. You're a disgrace.” Gram was hunched, his fingertips hovering by his glowing cheek. Turning, he stared up at my mother with the first hint of fury I'd ever seen in his bones. Here was someone who had fought, just as hard as me, to do what we needed to for this family. My job had been striving for success and perfection. His had been staying invisible. Finally, he'd decided he was done. If he could be that brave, then... maybe I... My father was a statue, the priest had gone pale, and Corin just pursed his lips. But my mother? She lifted her arm again, ready to strike once more.

“Hey!” Abell shouted, starting to step forward and intervene. He didn't get far; I beat him to Gram's side, gripping my brother's arm and blocking him protectively. She stopped mid-swing, her voice scathing. “Step away, Nichole.” Raising my chin, I didn't soften the resentment in my voice. “How dare you call him a disgrace? Gram isn't the one who should be ashamed, you are!” Her eyeballs bulged. I thought she was getting ready to hit me, too. “Excuse me?” Beside me, Gram stirred. I knew he was watching me closely, but I was keeping my agitated stare on my mother. “He's the only one in this family that ever cared about me, the actual me, and not the success and power you wanted me to achieve.” “Nicky,” Gram whispered. Smiling at him, I said, “In fact, I think you're the only one in this family that ever even complimented me. You told me I was amazing, that I could do anything.” Anything. What a word. Was he right? No one knew how to run Halloway Inc better than me! If Gram was to be believed... I didn't need the company at all. My father, who'd been silent but pale, stepped closer. “Nix, stop this. You have to marry Abell. Don't waste everyone's time, stand up and be responsible.”

Lifting my eyes, I watched him with a new understanding. I saw him, both of them, for what they really were. I'd always rationalized it away. I'd told myself it was for the family, the company. And that was what mattered. But now I knew what really mattered. Letting go of Gram, I rose until I was standing. Abell had remained nearby, hovering as if I needed to be protected. Leaning forward, I clutched him by the cheeks. His flicker of surprise was satisfying, especially as I kissed him. Our lips connected fiercely, the smell of tulips muddling my brain. With a smile, I looked him in the eyes and said, “We aren't getting married.” His eyebrows flew high. “What?” he whispered. My parents cried out, while Gram cheered and the priest just shook his head. Corin was silent, observing everything. “Yeah,” I said, linking my fingers with his. “Not like this. I want to be your wife, Abell. And I will. But it has to be on our own time. Our choice. No one making us. I don't care if I lose my company, I don't even want it anymore. Think you can give up your Dad's money, too?” Winding his hand in my hair, he connected his lips to mine. It was like kissing a piece of warm caramel. “I'd give up anything, as long as I got to keep you,” he said firmly.

My head was buzzing. Through the warm cotton, my mother shouted at me. “You'd throw away our company for your pride?” “Nix,” my father snapped. “You can't do this to us!” Whirling, he faced Corin, his hands in bone-colored fists. “Mr. Birch, please, give us more time. We can talk her into this! I swear!” Corin held up his hand for silence. When his eyes found me, I had to keep myself from stepping backwards. Luckily, he didn't stay on me for long. His target was Abell. “Listen to me, Abram,” he said. “If you walk away from her, never look back, I'll give you all the money you could desire. The lifestyle of your dreams.” It was like being punched in the gut. The wind went out of me, I couldn't even blink. He was agreeing with us not being married, but telling Abell to walk away from me? “What?” I asked, croaking. “I don't understand. Next to me, Abell tensed up as if his muscles were pure iron. “You think I'd give up the woman I love, just for some cash?” Corin ran a hand over his skull. He was fidgeting like I'd never seen him before. “Don't lie. You haven't changed a bit. If you didn't want money, freedom, sex... why would you be hanging out in filthy bars still?” Abell's eyes went dark, clarity rolling over his features until they twisted in disgust. “You! It was you

who called me that night!” Gram and I shared a look. “The photo of Trish,” I said. “He was the one who took it and sent it to my brother?” Corin didn't respond. It was as good as a confession. My knees were threatening to shatter. I didn't know if I could stay on my feet, or if I could keep from vomiting. What was all of this, a giant fucking game? Covering my mouth, I whispered, “Why would you do this to me?” Slowly, Corin looked towards my mother. She stood straighter, like she'd been electrocuted. “Ask her,” he said. She sucked in her lower lip, sealing her answer away. “Fine,” he chuckled. “It's clear this charade is over with, my efforts wasted. I'll tell your daughter why I worked so hard to make her future miserable.” I was shaking; anger, fear, I wasn't sure. Every cell was in disarray, this revelation leaving me lost. Abell's arm circled me, holding me tightly to his side. I breathed in, languishing in his comforting grip. Corin filled his lungs, held the pressure, and released. “Gabby and I have a history. Her, your father and I, we attended college together. We were almost friends. Almost.” Chuckling, he narrowed his eyes on my dad. “Rivals, more than anything.” My father shifted side to side, scowling.

“Gabby had big dreams,” Corin went on. “She wanted to start up a company, turn her tiny consulting hobby into something that could make millions. Her family was poor, mine... less so.” His smile was sickening, but the edges quickly fell. “She knew I liked her. She worked me over, flirted with me. Then she asked for her first cash investment. “I gave it to her. I was on the ground floor of Halloway Inc before it was ever called that. But no matter what I did for her, it wasn't enough.” I couldn't take my eyes off of my mother. She'd had a history with Corin? Her features had smoothed, she refused to look at anyone. The priest closed his bible. Now, he backed away, trying to politely exit the room once it was obvious this wedding wasn't happening. Corin grit his teeth. “She married your father. But she wasn't through with me. The day she called, crying that her husband had cheated on her, I thought this was it! She'd abandon her family, divorce her husband, and I'd be there to save her.” Gram's shoulders slumped. I wanted to hug him; being reminded of the affair was poisonous. Abell's dad had gone quiet. Then, he slid a glare crafted from ice and acid towards my mother. “Instead of leaving him, she asked for my money and made empty promises. I was wiser this time. I saw that nothing

I did would make her mine. She had no one else to turn to, I was her only hope, so... we made a deal. I'd give her the money, but at a price.” I held my head in my hands. “You did all this because she wouldn't date you? All of this, because of that?” He ignored me, still staring straight at my mother. “If I couldn't have Gabby, I wanted to ruin everything close to her. That meant her company, her family.” Finally, he snapped his dead eyes at me. “The marriage should have been enough, but then, you had to go and fall in love with Abram.” His smile was sinister. “So I had to change the game.” Abell took a shuddering breath. He was barely controlling himself. “You tried to goad me into abandoning her.” The idea sickened me. If Abell had left, leaving me alone with our baby... Protectively, I stroked my belly. Corin saw me touch myself, his laugh scratchy and wet. “The day I found you acting strange outside of my son's home, I suspected you'd fallen pregnant. How wonderful it would have been if he'd knocked you up, then thrown you to the side. You'd have been left with a child to remind you of the selfish man who ran.” “I'm not running from her!” Abell growled. “I never will.” On impulse, I hugged him closer. He surprised me, cupping my belly through my wedding dress, his chin resting on my head. His presence gave me strength.

“The company,” my mother whispered. She was an echo of herself. “You never intended to give it back.” Corin threw his hands up. “Of course not, are you that stupid? Do you not understand what revenge is?” “If you love me,” she said, “Then how could you do this?” “I did love you.” Corin's eyes were pits in his skull, empty and dark. “For years, I loved you. But not anymore, Gabby. Never again.” Next to me, Abell started to tremble. “I get it now,” he said. Under hooded eyebrows, he focused on his father. “That's why you never cared about Mom. You were in love with Gabby the whole time.” I squeezed his hand, but it was like trying to control a winter storm. He pulled away—too strong for me to hold him back. The whites in his eyes spread further. “You abandoned my mother because you were busy obsessing over someone you could never have, and all the while, she loved you until her final fucking breath!” My brain prickled; I knew he was about to move, and I reached for him, but it wasn't enough. Abell had shown me in the past how fast he could be. He exploded in a rush of snarling teeth and rabid eyes. There was no stopping him. With claw-like hands, he aimed for his father. I cried out, watching as the man I loved lifted Corin by the front of his shirt. For the first time, the older man

was caught off guard. His hands scraped at his son's shoulders. “Wait!” he gasped. “Think about what you're doing!” “I am.” Abell's shadow stretched as he lifted his dad higher, covering the tulips nearest him in black. He was the devil himself right then, wallowing in the anger he'd smothered for years. Abruptly, he dropped Corin to the floor; the older man grunted. Abell glared down at him, then dug into his pant's pocket. Everyone ducked, expecting a weapon of some kind to come out. A gun, a knife, it didn't matter what. With the fury swimming in Abell's face, it had to be something deadly. Biting my tongue, I forced myself to stand where I was. Call it intuition, but deep down in my gut, I knew everything would be alright. Abell hated his father, but he was nothing like him. He wasn't a monster. The ring box was thrown down violently, it bounced off of Corin, skidding across the floor. I recognized it; it was the same one that had fallen from his pocket so long ago in my kitchen. “When I marry her,” Abell said, “She'll wear my ring. Not yours.” Corin's chest rose and fell, he was still alive with panic. Glancing between the ring box and his son, he

licked his lips. Beat by beat, his stoic mask returned. He clearly didn't feel he was in danger after all. “That's it, then?” he asked, rising carefully, dusting his suit off. “You're going to choose her over what I'm offering?” He kicked the velvet box; it went skidding off a wooden pew. “Love, over money? Love, after seeing what it does to people? She doesn't deserve a ring, Abram. She's a damn whore.” Abell tightened up, searching for me. I tried to give him strength with just my eyes. I hoped it was enough. “What you had wasn't love,” he whispered. “What I have is.” My heart soared with joy and pride. His father kept shouting, sounding like he'd lose his voice any second. “You're wrong! Do you hear me? You're giving everything up for a worthless pair of legs and some tits! A filthy whore, a disgusting—” The man I adored looked at me, as if to say, 'I'm better than this. I won't be tempted into fighting him.' I wonder what everyone thought when it wasn't Abell's fist, but mine, that slammed into Corin's jaw. The impact caused my knuckles to ache, but I ignored it. Adrenaline made that pretty easy. Corin sprawled out, the room flooding with collective gasps from my family—and a shocked laugh from Gram. Standing over him, I lifted my hand, flexing my fingers. “Don't speak to me like that,” I spat. “You don't have the right.” Spinning, my pleats rustling like the

wind, I marched back to Abell. His eyebrows were sky high, mouth partially open. He started to smile, I ended that when I stood on my toes to kiss him. “Come on, let's get out of here. We have a lot to do.” “I know what I want to do,” he purred, bending me backwards into a dizzying tangle of tongues and teeth. When he stood me back up, I was seeing spots. Peeking over my shoulder, I studied that wedding scene one final time. The priest had fled, my family was in tatters, and Abell's father had a swollen jaw forming. The only thing worth remembering was the tulips. Well. Okay. Corin's swollen jaw was pretty great, too. Spotting my brother, I nodded at him. “Come with us, Gram. I still have a certain promise to keep. It'll take some work, but I think I can make it happen.” My brother grinned, stepping over Corin's ankles to join my side. “Lucky for you, I'm a patient guy.” “Wait,” my father said, his eyes red tinted and sickly. “You can't do this! We're... we're family, Nix.” Linking my fingers with Gram's, I pressed Abell's palm to my belly and said, “No. You're not. My family is right here.” Once, I'd stormed out of a room filled with these very same people. I'd hated all of them. Especially Abell.

Now, as he slid his arm around my hip, guiding me through that wooden doorway, I realized... I'd never been so loved.

- Epilogue Nix

“Are you ready?” Flicking my eyes up, I smiled nervously. “I think so. How do I look?” Reaching across, the woman adjusted the microphone on my shirt. “Wonderful. We'll start in one minute. Do the cameras make you nervous?” Shaking my head, I gave a brief laugh. “No. Not much does anymore.” The reporter beamed, motioning over my head. “Okay, here we go. Rolling in three, two, and... I'm here with Nix Birch, owner of Blue Tulip Inc, the newest— and hottest—marketing firm out there.” I took this as my cue to wave; I did it briskly, hoping it wasn't too much. “Hey there.” “Nix, tell us, what inspired you to create Blue Tulip Inc?” Linking my fingers, I said, “It's complicated.” The woman—she'd told me earlier that her name was Toni— lifted an eyebrow. “I mean, it's a long story. Let's just say I wanted to... help people.” Grinning, she waved her notepad side to side. “Well, help them you have. We all remember the hiring phase

you had when Halloway Inc went out of business. It's rumored you took in more employees than you were budgeted for!” My stomach twisted a bit at being reminded about that time. Corin Birch hadn't been joking, he'd liquefied my former company. Blue Tulip had been doing well, but it had taken a lot of number shifting—and I was forever grateful to Gram for his knowledge—to bring on so many new workers. But I had to do it. I refused to let those people suffer because of other people's selfish wishes. Toni was waiting for me. I smiled politely. “We made it work.” “I'll say! Tell us, how does it feel to be the most envied young business woman in the city?” Flushing up to my ears, I uncrossed and recrossed my knees. “Oh, no, don't say it like that. I'm not that successful, really.” “Don't be so modest,” a low, rolling voice said. Looking up, I blinked as Abell entered the room. It was hard to see his face with all the lights, but he fixed that, coming around and leaning over my chair. His arm circled my shoulders, fingers tilting me into him. His lips tangled mine up, trapping them until I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. Someone cleared their throat.

I pushed Abell away, fanning a hand by my cheek. “Sorry, sorry! Everyone, this is my husband, Abell Birch.” Toni waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, we know who he is. Glad he could make it, I have a few questions for him.” “Shoot,” he said, hovering beside me. “Well first, the world wants to know. What does it take to get such a notorious billionaire playboy to finally settle down?” Laughing, he slid his hand over my knee. I tightened up, reacting to his touch the same way now as I had over a year ago. “I'm not a playboy anymore, and not exactly a billionaire. Everything I have is because of this wonderful woman here.” Helplessly, I smiled up at him. Fluffing her hair, Toni chuckled. “So it was something about Nix that made you fall in love. How did you two meet?” Okay. I'd said not much made me nervous, but this line of questions did. Leaning forward, I said, “Hey, that story is pretty boring, how about we move on.” Abell clapped his hands together with a smirk. “How did we meet? Well, I beat someone up for her.” The air in the room got heavier. “What?” one of the cameramen asked. Toni glared at the speaker. “Yeah,” Abell chuckled. “He was attacking Nix and another woman. I jumped in and, well... here we are.”

“You were literally her hero!” Toni gasped dramatically. “How romantic! And then what happened? Give us all the details!” He smirked sharply. “Oh, you want all the details? Alright.” Covering my face, I took a deep breath. Here it comes. He's going to tell the world what we did that night. Our hookup. Kill me now. He said softly, “What happened next was that I realized how strong she was.” Freezing, I cracked my fingers and stared at Abell in disbelief. His lips slid up at an angle, but his eyes were warm —kind. He said, “She faced down this huge guy, all to save a stranger. After that, I knew she was special.” The reporter had been stunned into silence. Abell looked at her, teeth shining. “That's how you win over a billionaire playboy piece of eye candy,” he said. Toni couldn't look away. She'd been thrown off, as had everyone. Even me. Lowering my hands, I mumbled, “Abell, she never called you 'eye candy.'” “No? I'm sure I heard someone say it,” he mused. The room laughed, and I joined in. It was impossible to resist. In the middle of that chorus of noise, Abell shared a wink with me.

Reaching between us, he squeezed my hand. I felt the edge of something hard. His wedding ring. **** “There you are!” Gram said, looking exasperated. “She started crying and wouldn't stop!” In his arms, he juggled a little bundle of mint-green blankets, a shock of red hair poking from the top. Grinning, I wrapped my arms around my daughter, hugging her close. “You can make a company run like an oiled wheel, but you can't comfort a baby?” “She didn't want to listen to all the different ideas I had for streamlining her nap time.” He made a face, and we both laughed. Pressing my cheek to the top of her head, I breathed in her sweet smell. “Shh,” I hushed. “Everything is fine, my little Riley-Bean.” Riley's fragile whimpers stopped. Her eyes, as blue as her father's, sparkled up at me. She had a face I could have worshiped for an eternity. Gram gave me an impressed look, amazed at how I'd quieted her. “How did the interview go?” he asked. Bouncing Riley gently, I rolled my eyes. “As expected. Abell couldn't stop himself from popping in.” “I bet they loved that.”

“Of course they did.” So did I. “Did you see where he went?” “I think he went to make some last minute arrangements for while you're gone. Speaking of which, are seriously going to have your phone turned off the entire time? I know it's supposed to be the honeymoon you guys never went, but I mean, come on.” Pushing my lips out in an exaggerated pout, I said to my baby, “Someone thinks he can't handle things while I'm gone. Yes he does, yes he does.” “Don't turn her against me already!” I kissed Riley's forehead. “Gram, you'll be fine. I wouldn't have made you vice president of Blue Tulip if I thought you weren't the man for the job.” “Maybe,” he said, acting cagey. “Or you did it because of your promise.” Straightening my mouth into a serious line, I stared at him pointedly. “I promised you a better life, yes. But I also wanted you at my side. You've always been there for me, Gram. This wasn't a pity offer, you're my right hand because I believe in you.” He looked uncomfortable. Then, he ruffled his hair. “Dammit, Nicky. Way to make me blush.” Mockingly, I put a hand by Riley's ear. “Don't swear in front of the baby. Anyway, I need to get going. That plane won't wait for us.” “Before you go, I wanted to ask something.” He walked me towards the elevator. “Did Dad or Gabby

ever... you know, try to contact you? After everything?” Slowing, I hugged Riley closer. “Not once. You?” “Yeah.” I stopped short, arching my eyebrows. “Gram...” Puffing air through his lips, he shrugged. “Dad called me to ask for money, about a week before Halloway Inc shut down.” The side of my neck hurt from how tense I'd gotten. “Did you give him some?” “I did. I sent him two grand, and then never heard another peep.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, his lips a sad smile. “He could have said he was sorry, and I would have forgiven him, you know? He had that chance, right there. Instead he took the money and ran. I'm guessing I won't be seeing a Christmas card.” Gently, I ran my palm over my brother's shoulder. “You have a bigger heart than me.” He chuckled, then pulled out his phone. “You better hurry, Hawaii is waiting.” Gripping him firmly, I sighed. “Don't run my company into the ground while I'm gone.” “I thought you believed in me!” Winking, I darted into the elevator as the doors closed. “See you in two weeks!” **** “Abell?” I called out, setting Riley in her crib.

Crossing the hall, I peeked into our room. The bed was covered in folded clothing and an open suitcase. Abell hunched over the piles, setting them in the luggage. He looked up at the sound of my footsteps. “Hey there,” he said with a smile. “Are you still packing?” I wandered towards him, shaking my head. “Isn't our plane leaving in two hours?” “Actually,” he said, clicking the suitcase shut. “It was delayed another hour.” “What?” Checking my phone, I saw the missed call from the airline. Setting the suitcase on the edge of the bed, he said, “No rushing needed. I was actually going to hop in the shower, since we have a good eleven hour flight to Hawaii.” Tapping my chin, I leaned into the hallway— listening. “Riley is down. How about I join you?” Abell grinned wide as a canyon, pulling his shirt over his head. “I think I'd love that.” Shedding my clothes, I left a path into our bathroom. He followed behind like I'd dropped a breadcrumb trail for him. Twisting the shower knobs, I turned away as steam began to flood the room. Abell had stripped down to match me, and he was just inches away. Gliding his hands around the small of my back, he pulled me in, nuzzling my collar bone. “Fuck, how did I get such a beautiful wife?”

Shivering, I bent close to whisper the secret answer. “By being a better person than you thought you were.” I pulled his earlobe between my teeth. “Also, you fuck like a horse on speed. That helps,” I giggled. Laughing, he lifted me up, setting me in the hot stream of the shower. “Naughty mouth! We need to clean you up, get in here.” I tasted water when I grinned. Together, we hung our heads in the tumbling droplets. They coated us both, soaking me through and leaving his tattoos shining. Reaching over, I grabbed the bottle of shampoo. “Here,” he whispered, taking the bottle away. “Let me.” Pouring the liquid into his palm, he rubbed it onto my head. Suds foamed along my scalp, his fingertips massaging. Static rumbled through my cells, my brain firing on overdrive. The sensation of having him rolling his hands over my skull left me swaying. There was something beyond intimate about having someone else wash my hair. He ran the long strands through his palms, piled them up, rinsed them gently. The constant white noise of the shower had my muscles going slack. Tilting me forward, he washed the soap out, keeping it from my eyes. He massaged the base of my neck, erasing tension I hadn't been aware of.

Turning me, Abell brushed the soaked hair from my forehead. His kiss created ocean swells of delight in my brain. Opening my eyes, I saw him watching me through half-closed lids. His lips were reddish from the pressure of our kiss. “Hey,” I whispered. “How long was that delay?” Abell started to smirk, his voice caramel and sin. “An hour. More than enough time.” He guided me backwards; when my thighs hit the tile wall, Abell came down on me like a landslide. Eagerly he pulled my right nipple into his mouth. The skin was slick, made more so by his tongue. I moaned, arching into him to get more attention. Between us, he slid his hand. While he suckled my tits, his fingers probed—confident in how they located my firm clit. Thumbing it, he made precise motions, grazing the sensitive bud until I was wriggling against the tile. “Abell,” I gasped. “That feels amazing.” Grinning with my nipple between his teeth, he chuckled. The vibrations made my knees soften. Abell crouched, kissing my sternum, my ribs. He wrote poetry down my body with his mouth. Fisting his prick, Abell narrowed his icy eyes on me. “You taste as good as ever. I can't wait any longer, I'm taking this sweet pussy. My pussy.”

The way he talked to me, it had ecstasy invading my blood. Reaching down, I squeezed his shaft, guiding him to me. Abell's nostrils flared, his lust encouraged by my obvious need. With two fingers he spread my pussy-lips. He held himself with his other hand, rubbing his cock-head along my slippery entrance. “Look at me,” he whispered. Wordlessly, I did. Keeping his fierce stare on me, entrancing me not to look away, he fed his length into me. Fuck, I'd never get tired of that sensation. Being stretched so much that I still expected to break in two, nothing was more thrilling. His cock rammed into me, consistent in its pressure. Every thrust stole the oxygen from my lungs. The water and steam had made me warm, but it was his touch that scalded me. Hooking my thigh around his hip, he pinned me on the wall. One hand clasped my ass, guiding my tempo. I surrendered to his control. “Fuck me harder,” I whispered in a voice I didn't recognize as my own. “Fuck me until I scream.” Panting, he pushed us to the bottom of the tub. The water cascaded over us, but his body blocked it, protecting me from the spray. “Spread your legs wider,” he growled, pressing my thighs into the porcelain. Quickly, I obeyed him. I could smell my own arousal, the steam making everything humid and heavy.

He constrained me into the position he'd chosen. I was trapped, made to bend—to break—the way he desired. Blinded by my passion, I struggled to keep his face in focus. His cock plunged inside of me, filling me to the brim. My body was a live wire. I shuddered and twisted, hungry to keep his hot cock deep inside. Pleasure bloomed down my limbs, and I knew, when it hit my lower belly, I'd cum. “Scream,” he said, pumping faster—rougher. His hard pelvis ground against my clit, never relenting. He was pushing me towards orgasm whether I wanted it or not. “Scream for me, scream until you're hoarse.” His voice was a raw whisper. I let it consume me, rolling my cunt up to meet every one of his thrusts. Our voices echoed around us, the shower a constant rumble. The nerve endings inside of me went into overdrive; I whimpered helplessly, then took enough breaths to flood my lungs. I needed that air. I needed to scream. “Yes!” I squealed, my pussy convulsing over his hard length. “Fuck, yes! Yes!” After that, everything I said was broken, unrecognizable. Abell grunted, his forehead pressing on mine as he held me tight. I was still shaking, squeezing at his cock, when he started to cum. I didn't think he would pull out,

but in my desperation, I locked my legs around him and rode out the waves of his orgasm. With every swing of his hips, the indents on his lower back flexed. I traced them, clung to him as his thick cum filled me until it over flowed. I felt it trickle down the inside of my thighs, mixing with the shower water. I wanted every bit of him, wanted him to be dry to the bone and emptied. His essence belonged to me. Only to me. Curling my nails in his wet hair, I kissed his cheek. “I love you,” I whispered. Lifting his head enough to see me, his eyes were ruthlessly honest. “I love you, too. More than you could ever know.” Smiling, I said softly, “I think I have some idea.” Tiny tremors still worked through my pussy. Especially when his shaft, still stiff somehow after his release, inched backwards. I groaned, listening to the noise when his cock escaped from my body. We'd wasted our shower. Luckily, we hadn't abandoned it yet. Abell stood carefully, then he reached down to help me to my feet. Together we washed up a second time, removing the evidence of our little escapade. Scrambling from the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel, scrubbing one over my head vigorously. The air was cool, tiny prickles rising on my drying skin.

Abell had hung his towel around his hips. I paused, eating up the visual. He didn't hide his smirk, clearly enjoying how I was enjoying him. “You really like my ink, huh?” he asked, sliding into clean clothes from our dresser. “Of course I do. They're very... artsy, I guess.” Smiling tenderly, he nodded. “I got most of them after my mother passed. She always loved tattoos, too. Said it was exactly that, art for the body.” My hair was still damp, I tied it back in a wet bun. “I'm sure she would have loved all of them.” Abell stopped what he was doing, eyeing me like I'd said something he hadn't expected. Blushing at his scrutiny, I headed to my closet. Sliding into a fresh sundress, I pushed my feet into my black flats. Abell had already finished changing; a shame, I would have loved to ogle him more. “We'd better hurry,” I said. “We're pushing this whole 'arrive at least an hour before your flight' thing.” Grabbing the suitcase on the bed, I pulled it by the handle. One of the latches hadn't been closed; pants and underwear fluttered out, landing softly on the floor. Among the cloth, a heavier item clunked. “Wait!” Abell gasped, reaching for me. Kneeling, I picked up the smooth, thick book. “What's this?” Turning it in my hands, I peeled the cover back. Inside, a photo of my smiling face and creamy white wedding dress stared back.

This is... Flipping the pages, I looked over another picture; this one had Abell feeding me cake. He'd used his hands, sliding his fingers in—and out—and in again, so I was bright red in the photo from embarrassment. Next to me, I felt the slight weight of Abell sitting on the rug. “It's our wedding,” I said in awe. We'd held it while I was still pregnant, so I'd been giant and round. I remembered how I'd felt awfully close to being a blimp, but Abell had told me I was the most beautiful woman in the world. Flipping faster, I came across a new scene. Green walls, bright lights; a hospital. This was a glossy print of Abell. In his arms, he was cradling a sleeping, red faced Riley. He was wearing scrubs, and the look in his eyes—even through the paper —was pure adoration for his newly born daughter. “I wanted to surprise you on our trip.” His hand touched mine. “I know that neither of us had the typical loving family.” Reaching across, he gently caressed our daughter's face in the picture. “It's the first family photo album I've ever been a part of. I want her to remember everything we do together.” Looking up at him, I studied the face of the man I'd fallen so deeply for. “It's amazing. Abell, I love it!” He pulled me close for a gentle press of our warm lips. Against my skin he said, “I love you, Nix. And

now,” he said, pulling me to my feet, shoving the suitcase back together. “We have a plane to catch, and a daughter to pack up still.” Covering my mouth, I hissed, “Oh, you're right. I didn't think about the extra time for that!” I snatched up my bag, hurrying down the hall to Riley's room. “Traveling as a family is kind of new for me!” “Me too.” Abel gently gathered up the sleeping baby, buckling her into her car seat. “Better get used to it. This won't be our last trip.” “No,” I agreed, leaning close to kiss each of them on the forehead. “And if we can't manage now, how will we do it when our family gets bigger?” Abell froze, staring at me with wide-eyed hope and wonder. “Are you... are you already...?” Winking, I grabbed the suitcases and ran down the stairs, laughing all the way to the car. It was so strange, I could only distantly remember thinking that the idea of this—being a mother, being a wife—didn't make sense. Now, I couldn't imagine a different life. This one was perfect.

THE END

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LAST OF THE BAD BOYS

USA TODAY Bestselling Author

Nora Flite Copyright © 2014 Nora Flite All rights reserved. LAST OF THE BAD BOYS is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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- Chapter One Huxton

My name is Huxton. Huck, for short. Yes. I know you're already making the connection. I've heard every singsong title and ridiculous joke there is. Huck, it rhymes with fuck. And isn't that just poetic? It had also been prophetic. Fitting. A name and a teasing rhyme that said volumes about my life. All I'd ever been good at was fighting and fucking. I excelled at both. It chased me and I chased it back. Years of the same routine. Some people would get bored of all the action. Those people weren't me. Nothing could beat the way a fist felt when it collided with a jaw. Nothing compared to the sensation of making a woman vibrate when she came with my cock sheathed deep inside of her. I adored the rush of adrenaline, and honestly, sex and violence gave the same brand of rush. Combining them? Now, that was god damn magic. This was the life of a fucking bad boy. There were no roses here, not unless they were tattooed across some perfect skin. If people wanted romance, they called a dating service.

If they wanted thick muscle, grinding hips, or both... they called me. I was always happy to answer.

There was a drop of sweat dangling from her chin. I kept watching it, studying her breathing and wondering when that bit of liquid would finally fall. Every muscle—from her tensed feet to her throat—was taut as a drum. It was all my fault, really. I'd told Gina to hold still. Made it clear that if she moved, I'd walk right out of her home and never look back. You might call me cruel. That's true and false. I mean, I am a fucking bastard, but this whole set-up was Gina's idea. She had needs. And she paid out the nose to get them. Bending down, I blew air across her panties. The black silk was dark from her excitement, my breath turning the dampness cool where seconds ago it had been scalding. Gina gasped, and that time, the drop of sweat crashed to her collar bone. “Huxton,” she sobbed, writhing in place, not even blessed by cuffs to hold her down—that would have been too easy. “Fucking hell, you're killing me here.” “Killing you?” I chuckled, scraping my teeth over her inner thigh. She jumped, fingers clenching on the

blanket. “You seem plenty alive to me, sweetheart.” The only binding on her luscious body was a blindfold. I'd insisted on that. I wanted her to lie in her bed and wonder if I was staring at her quaking tits or her parted thighs. I adored every part of a woman's body, I'd eaten the visual up and had seconds by now. Pushing my thumbs along the edge of her panties, I spread her—made her lips bloom so that the fabric slid between. Gina whimpered, vibrating with her need. Tugging the material upwards, I watched it encase the hard nub of her clit. It was so swollen I could see it through the silk, pleading with me to just kiss it. “God, you smell amazing,” I whispered. “Please stop teasing me, I can't take it!” “I think you can,” I chuckled. “I think you love it. You're soaking, beautiful. Your cunt is going wild. When was the last time you were fucked?” Pushing her cheek into the pillow, her ruby smile twitched. “Last week, when you visited me.” I clucked my tongue. “Just six days and you're this horny? I get why you called me. This pussy is starving...” Bending close, I licked her inner thigh. Gina jumped. “It needs attention, doesn't it?” “Yes! God, yes!” “Then say please.” Pulling her panties lower, I stopped when just her clit was exposed. Writhing, her toes clenching, Gina sobbed. “I've been saying please!”

“Say it again,” I scolded, nuzzling right beside her cunt. Of course, she was more than happy to follow orders. I wondered if anyone in the nearby apartments would hear her scream. “Please! Please, Huck, just fuck me!” She couldn't see my smile. “Good girl, much better.” Licking straight up her silk panties to her vulnerable clit, I thrilled at how she groaned. Gina clawed at me, unable to follow the rules. That was fine; they were meant for her, not me. I loved when my clients lost control. Ripping her blindfold away, she grabbed at my shoulders. “More, give me more!” One easy snap, I tore her underwear clean off of her. They were thrown aside, useless. Pushing her thighs open for better access, I stuffed my face into her cunt and went to town. Her juices ran down my chin, I lapped them eagerly. Gina trembled, digging into my back. Amazingly, she didn't leave marks. “You ready for my cock, babe?” Her lips were thick, slightly parted. The fierce daze in her eyes made her look desperate. It was magical. “Fuck me, Huxton. Just... god, fuck me!” Stroking myself through my briefs, I growled. “You missed me that badly, huh?” “You're all I thought of all week.”

Smirking, my fingers curled into my underwear. “All week?” She nodded eagerly. “All fucking week.” My cock bounced into the air. It arched proudly, the tip sticky with my pre-come. “This is what you thought of? Did you imagine me every single night while you played with your beautiful pussy?” Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit her lip. “Over and over, now stop teasing me, it's murder.” With a practiced hand, I peeled the condom I'd set on the nightstand down my length. It turned my skin shiny, and unlike most guys, it excited me. Condoms signaled the time for fun. Rolling my hips, my cock-head slid along her soaked entrance. “I'd hate for you to think I'm so cruel.” Gritting my teeth, I fisted myself and pushed into her excited pussy. There was no resistance. Instantly, Gina moaned. An animal in heat, she wrapped me in her arms and thrust faster than my own tempo. I let her take control... but not because I preferred it. No, I loved ruining women, making them so excited they just babbled in my ear. But tonight, I was out of time. I had somewhere to be. Panting, she rubbed her cheek on my temple. “Huck, you feel—god, you're amazing!” Grinding violently, she hooked her legs and clamped on. I wondered, if I'd tried to slide free, if I even could have.

I shivered, my balls already tightening. I liked it rough, so did Gina. She was one of my favorite clients for a reason. Even through the condom, her cunt was milking me. She'd been on edge so long, her release wasn't far. She was a fan of foreplay, and I'd been teasing her for over an hour. I observed her breathing, her heart. I paid attention to every little thing. My job was to make women happy, and I did it with gusto. “Fuck!” she squealed, holding onto me for dear life. Heat tingled through her wet walls. It sank into me, my cock flexing with need. I wanted to come, I needed to come. It was an addiction... but one that was easily solved. Escorting gave me many opportunities. Reaching back, I squeezed her ass and bit her shoulder. That was it, Gina was done. Moaning into my ear, she shook and crumpled like a leaf on the wind. Her cunt thrummed, crushing me and sending me over the edge. Closing my eyes, sparks filled my skull. The pressure in my belly hit its peak, my thick jizz filling the condom. Wave after wave, I pulsed—and she matched me. I slid out with a wince, gazing down on her elegant face. As delicious as Gina's lips looked, I never kissed my clients. It was too intimate. Too risky.

I'd had more than one woman fall for me. It was bad for business. Sighing contently, she stretched on the bed and smiled. “You're amazing. Every time, it's just... Yeah. I can't even explain.” Grinning, I unfurled the condom and dropped it in the trash. In the bathroom nearby, I washed myself quickly, drying my skin. “Glad you liked it. That's my goal.” Slipping back into her room, I gathered my things. I'd piled them in the corner, save for the blindfold that had drifted to the floor. My clothes were a mess, I scooped up my shirt and tugged my head through it. Gliding my jeans up my legs, I caught Gina splaying herself over the bed. Tempting me to come back and fuck that pretty pussy until she couldn't walk. “Now, who's killing who?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow. She flashed me a wide grin. “Stay, play some more. I'll pay extra.” Standing tall, I swooped over her like a giant hawk. Hands cupped her long neck, drawing forth a hushed moan. “You would, that's for fucking sure.” Kissing her shoulder, a quick snap of teeth and tongue, I pulled away. Gina was breathing heavy all over again. I really would have loved to bend her over for another round. “I have a gig,” I said, shifting my furious hard-on in my pants. She saw me do it, licked her plump limps. “Ugh, fine. But the instant you walk out that door, I'll be getting

myself off.” This was a funny way to make me feel guilty. Smirking, I started to tie my boots on. “Why wait?” Setting my eyes on her fiercely, I didn't look away. “Go on, babe. Play with your insatiable cunt for me. I'll be right here.” Red as a beet, Gina didn't waste any time. Spreading her knees, she opened herself for me and rapidly stroked her clit. It was easy to see from where I was, every bit of her was swollen from my games. “Fuck you,” she panted. Laughing, I shrugged into my jacket and grabbed my bag. “Next time.” With her frustrated groans tickling my brain, I left her there and stepped out into the air. It was warm for December, but California always was. Doesn't help that my blood is still boiling, I mused, looking for a way to sit comfortably on my motorcycle with my erection hounding me. It took me a minute or two, but I calmed enough to rev the bike and pull out onto the road. I wasn't lying, I did have a gig—and for once, it wasn't fucking or fighting. An old friend had called, a lady I hadn't heard from in sometime. Eliza had fallen off the map. Lots of women became lost to me over time. Her and I, though, we'd had a bit of a different relationship. She was one of the few women I'd spent time with that I hadn't fucked. A rare occurrence.

Rumbling down the freeway, I thought about what she'd hired me for. Apparently, her new roommate was having a birthday. Eliza had called an 'entertainer' but the guy had stopped responding to her calls and emails. It was nice that she'd thought of me. Stripping wasn't far off from escorting, no matter what the prudes might claim. I knew enough former dancers to see the connected lines. And Eliza? What was she doing with her life, now? I knew this game of flesh for cash, I was deep in it. Few people ever got out. Perhaps she had, though. Maybe that was why I hadn't heard from her in so long. If you didn't need a bodyguard to watch your back while you were fucking in a filthy hotel room, then you had to be doing something else. Something better. Right? The decorated house was in one of the fanciest neighborhoods I'd ever had the pleasure of strolling into. There were kids toys in some front yards, mailboxes with tiny flags. A sparkly Santa sticker on the house proclaiming “HoHoHo” shined in the light of my bike as I parked it. Up and down the curb were rows of expensive cars. Unless I was wrong, I was about to entertain a packed house. This might be interesting, I thought with a quick grin. My knuckles tapped next to the glittery fat-man, louder than the music inside. Christmas was a few weeks

off, but these people were partying it up. That was good. I made more money when women were drunk. I lifted my hand to knock again, but the door burst open, hitting me with unfiltered laughter and squeals. Standing there was a short girl, her brunette hair wound into two braids. Lots of earrings, skinny as a rail, and she smelled a bit like cheap vodka. I'd have said she wasn't my type, except—honestly? Every girl is my fucking type. “Hello there,” I said smoothly, wearing my nicest grin. “I believe I'm looking for a birthday girl. Is that you, sugar?” I watched the way she hesitated, taking me in—my tight jeans, my fitted grey shirt under an open black jacket—before that familiar heat tinged her eyes. Yeah, she liked what she saw. Her lashes fluttered, body leaning forward to show me deeper inside her crop-top. “God, I wish I was. You're Huxton, right?” “That's me.” Lifting my bag, I looked over her head into the house. “How many of you ladies are in there having fun tonight? And how dare you start without me.” I winked, feeling optimistic. Arching away so I could enter the home, the brunette with her pouting lips and hungry gaze giggled; high pitched, super fake. “I'm Janet. I think there's twelve, including Zoe—it's her birthday.”

Zoe. Cute name. I prayed it fit her. “Should I go say hi, or do you want me to get set-up first?” I asked, peering around the entryway. The house was big, streamers stuck on the walls and voices murmuring down the hall. I was eager to get to the action. “Uh, what do you need to get set-up?” I waved my bag. “A room I can put my radio in, for after. Could you go play this CD where the girls are?” Handing her the disc, I ran my fingers over my skull. Janet followed the movement, maybe wondering how my rich black hair would feel in her hands. “Sure, yeah.” Shaking herself awake, she pointed at a bedroom. “You can put everything in Eliza's room. Is that where you'll be doing...?” “Private dances, yes ma’am.” My teeth flashed. “Let's not keep everyone waiting. I bet they're as eager as you are.” Her blush was delicious. “I—uh. Right! I'll go put this on. See you in a few minutes.” She swayed down the hall, wiggling her hips extra hard. She wanted me to stare at her ass. Of course, I was happy to. I'd bet money that even if no one else bought a private dance tonight, Janet would be an eager customer. I dropped my bag in the bedroom, setting the small radio up in the corner. It was a cramped space, but for a personal show, I could have performed in a closet if I had to.

On a desk, I spotted a framed photo of Eliza. Her rich, oil-slick hair hung down over the pretty pink sweater she wore. If that was a recent photo, she hadn't changed a bit. Her location sure had, though. Last I'd known, Eliza had been living in a tiny apartment. Whatever she was doing now, she'd upgraded her life a few notches. Checking my phone, I eyed the email she'd sent me. Pleasantries and all that, then the real information. Eliza had requested a specific outfit for her friend. Not my favorite, but I was here to please. Changing quickly, I caught the heavy emptiness of the music stopping. Then, outside, my first song began. The beat started slow, the rhythm building. It was time. Even if I didn't dance much anymore, I still loved performing. It never failed to get my heart thrumming. Stepping into the hall, I adjusted my new jacket—my red tie—and strolled towards the fun. It was easy to find my targets, the girls were a tornado of noise. The second I rounded the corner, entering that dimmed room packed with wide-eyed women, they turned their excitement up a notch. Oh yes. This was what I adored. “Hey there,” I chuckled, dragging my fingers down the front of my jacket. “Sorry if I kept you ladies waiting.” Decked out like a billionaire entrepreneur, I was the man you saw in a Business magazine, or who

you stared at from afar as he guided his Corvet down the street. Money. Power. Fantasy. The group was made up entirely of women. That was good. There was usually one fucking guy who couldn't stand that someone else was getting all the attention. It always ended in hurt feelings, and once or twice there was a bloody nose involved. Never mine, though. Raking my eyes across the room, I judged each of them—tried to grasp who they were and what they would like. Tall, curvy, blonde or even blue haired... I didn't care. I loved them all, and my cock loved them even more. Eliza was standing to one side, her eyes narrowed in that knowing way of hers. She lifted a hand, waved subtly. We'd talk when things calmed down. Popping my top button, I revealed some of the cream-colored undershirt. “My name is Huck.” They parted for me like a river while I swayed closer to the center. “And while all of you are beautiful, I'm looking for a certain someone.” Slowing down, I rocked my hips. Every set of eyes jumped down to my zipper, so fucking eager. I whispered, “The birthday girl.” A giggle, a nervous titter. Turning, I spotted Janet. She was pointing at someone sitting in a chair. They'd set her up for me, an offering on a platter. Conveniently, I was ravenous. I should have spotted her initially, but she'd been hiding behind the standing bodies. They moved away,

revealing the woman and her gaudy plastic crown that read the number 'twenty-two' in glittering silver. She was the opposite of the adornment; bare of makeup and nothing sparkly. A simple white dress, copper-red hair. The picture of innocence. Contagious energy threaded the air. The party-goers were living vicariously through their friend. She was wide-eyed and pink as a rose. I loved it, I wanted to see what colors the other parts of her body would turn. Rolling my torso, I moved fluidly until I stood over her. “Guess you're the one I'm looking for.” Her eyes were frozen and unblinking. I could see my smiling face in her pupils. “What's your name, love?” I knew it was Zoe, but I wanted to ease her into this situation. She wasn't giggling like her friends. Hearing her own voice should help break the ice. “Uh, I'm Zoe.” Lowering her eyebrows, she shot a glare at Eliza and tugged the crown off of her head. “You don't need to do this. Go dance for someone else, I'm not—” “Booo!” Eliza shouted, the others picking up the vibe. “This is your birthday gift! You can't back down!” Dropping the crown to the floor, Zoe scrunched into her chair. “It's just not my thing,” she said softly, apologizing to me. Her nails gripped the edge of her seat, ready to break the wood. I'd handled shy girls before. This didn't concern me. Cupping her cheek, I winked. “Don't worry, I won't be

rough. I'll only do things that you'll like.” Her skin was porcelain, tiny freckles I wanted to lick. She shivered under me, lost in the sea of screaming voices. I wasn't lying, I would only do what she liked... I was just confident she'd love everything I did before this was over. The music dropped, then picked up in tempo. Grinning, I leaned away and fingered my tie. The hush of anticipation grew, punctuated by the occasional whistle. My jacket was peeled away, the first thing to go —I was too warm to wear it any longer. Bit by bit, I pulled my shirt open until the deep grooves of my stomach showed. I was a road map of tattoos, a variety show for those who were into that. It spoke about who I was, how pain meant nothing. Their yearning stares said they approved. Zoe sat up, darting her attention over my marked flesh. Minutes ago she'd looked on the verge of disgust. The more of my carved skin that I displayed, the more she watched with rapt fascination. Maybe Eliza got it wrong, I wondered, loosening the tie around my throat. The business look isn't Zoe's thing. This girl... I think she likes it fucking wild. Now I was grinning. I dug a woman who was spellbound by tattoos and raw grit. If that was Zoe, then perfect. I'd figured her out. I knew what to do next.

Draping the shirt over my shoulders, I let it hang. Fingers tugged at my belt buckle, the metal clinking; a few girls licked their lips. Rolling like an ocean wave, I hypnotized Zoe from the moment the top button of my pants opened. It took a full second for the zipper to part over each single metal tooth. Nobody was breathing. They were under my spell. The very top of my black briefs peeked into view. Painstakingly slow, I inched my pants down further. The hard lines of my lower stomach led the eye naturally. Zoe was caught. She was no longer the sweet, blushing bride. Those blue eyes were starving. She wiggled in her chair. Impatience was her new friend. Smirking sharply, I purposefully adjusted my firming cock through my underwear. The crowd gasped and shrieked and giggled. I expected her to do the same. Zoe lifted her eyes and met mine. There was no flinching, no blinking. This girl was fucking serious and it threw me off. My composure never broke, but I grabbed myself a second time. The new rush of arousal wasn't under my control. Okay. Zoe was suddenly very interesting. Normally, in this kind of environment, the girl getting the dance in front of her friends always ended up laughing and squealing. They covered their eyes, or they grabbed at me and put on a show for the other women. This red-head, she was holding still but her energy was sizzling. The nails on her hands no longer dug into

the chair. They rested on her thighs, slightly curled and occasionally flexing. She was fighting with herself. Zoe wanted to touch me and was holding back. Well. I couldn't allow that. Reaching down, I scooped up her wrist and guided her to my stomach before she could react. Her palm was silky, gliding easily over the ridges of muscle. Never taking my stare off of hers, I took Zoe's fingers on a journey from my hipbone, to my sternum, then back down again. She held steady, and that actually started to bother me. I wanted a reaction. I was eager to watch this woman go from stoic to shivering. Narrowing my eyes, I jerked her hand and used it to slide my pants completely down my thighs. Around us, the party was a wave of cheers. Zoe blinked at the shape of my full erection through my tight briefs. Maybe she was the one daring me, but I didn't care. I needed her to react. That was what fueled me. Grinding my hips with a chuckle, I inched her palm over my leg, then brought it close to my bulge. There, finally; pink as cotton-candy, Zoe's whole face glowed. I was rewarded with her trying to yank away. I held on tight, enough to show her I knew and she knew that I was in control of this dance. Fuck, the way she chewed her lower lip had my cock throbbing.

“Here,” Eliza said, appearing at our side. The screams of the others nearly drowned her out. “It's her birthday, go give her a private dance.” A lovely devil, she hooked her arms under Zoe's and forced the surprised woman to her feet. “Oh, no no,” Zoe laughed. Twisting away from her roommate, she bumped right into me. The scent of her body heat hit me, wafting from her red hair and her elegant throat. Inhaling sharply, my eyes fluttered. She heard the noise, startling and gaping up at the wall that was my mostly naked body. She was saying she didn't want to be alone with me? What a liar. Kicking my pants and shoes away, I looped my arm around her waist, spun her like a dancer. “Don't insult the host,” I said, shooting a quick look at Eliza. The wicked light in her eyes said she hadn't changed one bit. Still such a ball-buster. “It's your birthday, being too scared to enjoy that would be a shame.” Zoe followed at my side, everyone clapping behind us. She was dazed, her words stilted and angry. “I'm— I'm not too scared to enjoy it!” “Good.” Pushing the bedroom door open, I let go of her. Dipping my head, I motioned inside. “Then let me do my job. I already promised to be gentle.” This was her moment to choose. If she walked away, I wouldn't chase her down or coerce her. Perhaps I could change her mind as the night went on, but I was ready

right now. If Zoe didn't go for it, I'd burn my energy out on that Janet girl. She'd been eye-fucking me the whole party. Lifting her chin, Zoe gave me a sideways smile. “It's my birthday, what if I don't want gentle?” Breathing through my nose, I pushed the middle of her back. Okay. Never mind this 'choice' bullshit. Even if it was just a dance—for now—I was getting a piece of this woman. She didn't fight me. Zoe walked into the room with her head held high. It wasn't until I'd shut the door, cutting off the music and setting us in our private bubble that her coy smile crumbled. “This is just a lap-dance,” she said, though it was verging on a question. Dressed in just my clinging briefs, still sporting a solid hard-on, I moved towards her. The twinkle of nerves in Zoe's blue eyes had my heart thumping. Leaning past her, listening to her tiny gasp, I chuckled. She'd expected me to touch her. Instead, I clicked the play button on the radio I'd brought. Soft, trance-style music began to flow. This was intimate, different than the display I'd put on for the crowd. I wanted her to know that before we even began. It'd been some time since I'd done a striptease for a party, but private moments like this? Just me and a woman and nothing in between? Those were as familiar as breakfast.

“Hey,” she said, her voice going razor-thin. “Answer me. Just a dance, okay?” Running my fingers through my thick hair, I shrugged. “Unless you ask for more, sure.” “I won't ask for more.” Narrowing my eyes, I showed her my teeth. “Don't go making promises you can't keep.” Zoe's chest flared, filling with surprised—excited— air. I could tell she liked my challenge, it was written on her parted lips. I was used to girls reacting this way, it wasn't new. What was new was the odd resistance coating her every move. This girl was into me, so why did she keep wavering around it? Where was her wall coming from? Putting my hand on her shoulder, I pushed her down onto the bed. She sat heavily on the edge, the springs squeaking in place of her own voice. She'd gone stonesilent. In the light of the single lamp on Eliza's desk, her vanity mirror showed the two of us. Zoe was stiffbacked, eyes popping to their limit while she gazed expectantly upwards. Still fully dressed, she should of had the advantage. It didn't work that way. When I rolled my stomach, my reflection mimicked me. The plethora of tattoos rippled, black and red and even green. I loved ink, swelled proudly at how the designs accentuated the sharp dip of my hip bones. Zoe was entranced. Clearly, she loved the effect, too.

Lifting her eyes, she realized by my smirk that I'd caught her eating me up. Her mini scowl said, I'm flustered, okay, so what? If she thought this was flustered, she had a harsh lesson coming her way. My fingers clamped onto her knees. Her jump was instant, amusing. Pushing her legs apart, I slid between. My bare chest came close to her, stroking the fabric of her dress, a butterfly's kiss. Lifting her hands, she slid her nails along my upper back, like she was testing to see if I was real. A curl of her hair tickled my nose. “Is this your first lap-dance?” I whispered. A row of goosebumps sprouted along her neck. She answered me in her cracking voice. “Would it shock you if I said no?” It did shock me. Pulling back, I stared at her curiously, looked for some hint of what this girl was made of. Zoe was still blushing, but her eyes were a smile all their own. “In that case,” I said, trapping her wrists tight. “You know the rules. No touching.” She showed me her tiny scowl. “You let me touch you earlier.” My grin split wider. “If I put your hands on me, it's fine. I didn't this time. Rules are rules.” Letting go, I pulled her down the bed until her toes were on the floor. This shoved my cock against the soft spot between her thighs.

Zoe's dress slid high, revealing the pink fabric that did what it could to create a barrier between her sweet cunt and my eager hard-on. The sound she made was all squawks. “Whoa whoa! Hey! What are you doing?” Licking my lips, I dug my hands into her smooth flesh. Purposefully, I rocked against her pussy, rubbing along the fabric. There was a growl in the back of my throat. It wasn't fake or exaggerated, I was fucking turned on. Her shock was just adding to it. “Thought you'd had lap-dances before?” “Not like this!” “Well,” I purred, grinding my cloth-covered dick firmly against her, “That makes sense. I do them my way. I do them fucking right.” Zoe was gawking, but the bit of fire I'd spotted in her before was shining in her face. She kept her hands on the bed, mauling the blanket. She could have shoved—or tried to shove—me away. She hadn't. For a moment I waited. My palms traced to her knee, hips holding still and creating a wave of aching need in me. Shit, I was excited. Her scent was burrowing into my nose. My lust was made worse when she arched into me experimentally. “Yeah?” I breathed out. Darting her eyes to the side, then back to me, she chuckled. “I'd be a pretty poor birthday girl if I didn't let Eliza get her monies worth. She paid for all of this.” Those pretty irises were deep and dark. “Go ahead.

Show me what a proper lap-dance is—what did you say your name was?” I didn't muffle my laugh. “Huxton. Just call me Huck.” She'd forgotten my name? What a little tease. I wouldn't let her forget me, no way. Patiently, I gyrated my throbbing erection against her panties. I knew how to move, where to press. Zoe's moan was... encouraging. Hoisting her by her round ass, I pushed her up the bed. Doing so put me close to her, a wave of her sweet, intoxicating musk dampening my brain. The scent of her excited cunt was driving me towards the edge. I needed to stay in control. With her back against the headboard so she was forced to sit up, I straddled her body. Something brushed my spine—her hands, again. Knotting my brow, I clicked my tongue. Zoe got the message, dropping her arms to her sides. She might as well have rolled her eyes. “You can touch me, but I can't touch you?” “That's the deal.” I flashed my teeth, itching to drag them down her neck. God, I wanted to taste her. My cock was painfully rigid, I reached down and fisted it. Zoe watched, and I think she might have been as eager as me. Almost, anyway. Slowly, I began rocking on top of her. I rose up on my knees, bent back in a slight bridge. Zoe had quite the view, my abdominals flexing as they worked. The shape of my cock-head was obvious, straining against the front of my briefs.

A shudder went through her. I felt it, and she saw me feel it. On the bed, her hands made fists; clenched tight. She was struggling to hold back. I was making Zoe lose her composure. Fuck, it got me high as a kite. “Okay,” she blurted, after I'd kept rolling my hips up and down for a few minutes. “Either stop or...” “Or?” I teased, stroking my own palm along the outside of my erection. She shut her eyes and knotted her eyebrows. “Shit. You're a real bastard, Huck.” “Don't be so harsh, babe.” I leaned down, put my weight on her until I was stroking her through her panties with the length of my shaft. “I told you earlier...” Fast as a whip, I snatched her left hand and placed it on my hip. “I'll only do the things you like. Got it?” A tremor crossed Zoe's face. She'd gone somewhere else; no longer looking at me, but at the contour of my body, the lines of black ink running up my skin. There was a thoughtfulness to her that had me baffled. Not meeting my stare, she grazed her nails down until she brushed a single fingertip over the outside of my briefs. Both of us gasped. “Fuck,” she hissed, wrenching her eyes up to me. She was back, the live wire that seemed to battle with herself. Pulling her hand away, she covered her mouth. I made myself swallow down my urge to rip her hand away and kiss her. “If you wanted to know how I

smelled,” I said, crawling forward until my bulge was an inch from her face, “There are better ways.” Figuring out what I was implying, she whipped her hand away from her lips. The insult that was on her tongue dissolved. Zoe was fixated on my cock, the black cloth shifting when I writhed. “Do you want to see it?” I asked, my voice low and soft. “No,” she said, and it was a poor lie. “Fine.” Jerking myself through the material, I grinned at how red she turned. She sat there and watched, unwilling to look away, unwilling to stop me. My plan was to turn her on until she buckled. I'd decided I was going to fuck her, there was no way around it. My need was maddening, and I was not a man to shy away from his desires. However, touching myself was making my lower belly tingle. At this rate, I'd lose my edge. Reluctantly, I let go of my cock. Hunching over Zoe, I nuzzled the hollow of her throat. My ears flooded with the glorious sound of her whimper. “This... isn't much of a dance,” she mumbled weakly. “Sure it is.” Kissing her skin, I tasted her sweat. My teeth scraped, drawing out another gasp. “Our bodies are still moving, still reacting.” Sliding lower, I captured her chin and put my ear to her shoulder. “Beautiful, your heart is pounding.” “So is yours.” It was a frail accusation.

The music thumped. I copied it, rubbing my pelvis over hers to the beat. “You're right, my heart is going wild. Know why?” Against my cheek, Zoe shook her head. “It's because you're getting me hot. Feel how hard my cock is?” I slid it along her inner thigh until she groaned. “That's the sign of a good lap-dance. You're making me crazy, babe. Fuck.” Zoe adjusted; soon, she was grinding her pussy on me. We were dry humping in Eliza's bed. I hoped she didn't kill me for this. “Is this really okay?” Zoe asked, never slowing her rocking body. “Feels more than okay to me.” Her raspy panting filled my skull. This wasn't a dance anymore, no way. I was seconds away from tearing her panties aside and shoving my swollen length deep into her cunt. Under me, Zoe went stiff. “What was that?” “My cock, doll. Please don't tell me you're a virgin.” “No,” she snapped, shoving at me until I sat up. “Listen, in the hall.” Without her dulling my senses, the noises outside the door became obvious. Voices were talking, muffled and growing angrier. Something was happening, and it pissed me off because it was interrupting my fun. Eliza's voice was clear as day. “I said get the fuck out! I'm not paying you!” Shit. Well, there went my good mood. Hopping off the bed, I eyed Zoe, caught her fiddling with her dress. “Sorry to cut this short. Believe me.”

She slid off the mattress, smoothing her hair. “It's fine. I'm coming, wait for me.” “You aren't coming,” I said, arching an eyebrow. “That's precisely why it's not fine.” Zoe blushed, getting my meaning. It was almost enough to cheer me up as I wrenched out into the hallway. Eliza was standing there, face to face with a man I hadn't met before. He was almost as tall as me, a jacked up dude in a tight white shirt and a black bow-tie. At the end of the hall, the other girls were gathered, gazing on in fear and worry. The instant I appeared, all eyes shot to me. “Huck!” Eliza cried, pointing at the man. “Get this asshole out of here!” “What's the problem?” I asked, sensing Zoe stepping close behind me. The man in the bow-tie wrinkled his nose, looking me up and down. I was wearing just my briefs, but I wasn't ashamed. I just winked at him and grinned fiercely. “This is the joker you replaced me with?” He scoffed, folding his arms. “I wasn't even that late!” “You never responded to my last five phone calls, Kit!” Eliza's hands squeezed her round hips. “I had to cancel, it looked like you wouldn't show!” Kit raised his chin, trying to intimidate Eliza. I knew her, though. It took way more than that to make my old

friend nervous. “You booked me, now I'm here. Pay me the five hundred.” Before she could say another word, I stepped up. My chest brushed Kit's, making him take a step back. “Listen, the nice lady asked you to leave. How about you get the fuck out of here, before things get messy?” Grimacing, the guy considered me once more. He took in my casual stance, my amused smile. I was a halfnaked man in extremely good shape, but my body language screamed I was no threat. I should have been a being of pure hot rage. And I wasn't. Let me explain. You see, with my semi-hard-on gone, my balls still buzzed in frustration. There was a poison in me called 'disappointment.' This fucker had interrupted what I'd been about to do to one lovely red-head. God, I could still smell her—knew she was standing mere feet away. I looked like I wasn't a threat because I wanted him to think that. I was spoiling for a fucking fight. Nothing starts one faster than a petty man who thinks he has the advantage and aims to shake down some money. “Back the hell up, dude,” Kit said, his hand shoving out at my shoulder. “This has to do with me and Eliza.” My next smile was slow as the rising sun. I chafed where his hand had touched me. “Last chance, friend. Get your ass out that door. Let's not ruin the mood of this party.”

His lips were curling, some shitty insult no doubt ready to expel from his mouth. I was busy watching his hands. His feet. The asshole was doing exactly what I'd hoped for. Riled up and not worried about me, Kit had every intention of shoving me again. He'd never get that far. Stepping to one side, I grabbed him by the shirt and threw him against the wall. Pictures shook but luckily didn't shatter on the floor. The hallway filled with shocked screams. Kit was shocked, too, and I liked that. Fear isn't as enticing as a writhing body on a bed, but it would have to do. “What the fuck!?” he shouted. “I asked you nicely. Get your ass out the door.” His shirt ripped at the seams from how roughly I yanked him towards the front of the house. Eliza moved aside, shooting me a thankful smile as I passed. It was Zoe that had my attention, brief as it was. Those blue eyes were twinkling with amazement. If her slack jaw and the hard lines of her nipples through her shirt were any indication—and I admit, I'm no Sherlock—she was still turned on from when I'd been grinding on her. Under me, Kit was twisting, arguing. Fueled by my new burst of energy, I dragged him to the door. “Wait!” he gasped, futilely trying to stop us with his heels. I just kicked at his legs, ignoring his wince. “What about my money? Eliza owes me for this gig! It's in the contract!”

On the threshold, I paused. Wrenching Kit upwards, I held him in front of me. Every muscle fiber was tensed, every inch of me that could knot up was doing so. “You had a contract?” I asked, shaking him once. “Yes! She owes me five hundred bucks!” I could see the droplets of sweat on his forehead. Kit was terrified, and with good reason. I'd handled him like he was a bag of potatoes. The disgust in my green eyes was rampant. “Look—it's just how it is. Okay? She owes me the money. She has to pay, or else.” I tilted my head. “Or else, I like that phrase. How about this. You get the fuck out of my sight, or else I shove this contract of yours so far up your ass you'll choke on it.” His mouth fell open. “I—I mean, it's a digital contract, so you couldn't—” In one smooth motion, I threw him over the steps and into the yard. Luckily, he missed one of the plastic reindeer Eliza must have set-up to show her Christmas spirit. Grunting, Kit stumbled in the grass. On hands and knees, he took one look back at me. Grinning, I cracked my knuckles and started to climb down off the porch. That was all it took. Kit was a ball of limbs, clamoring into the street and towards what I figured was his car. The screeching tires confirmed that guess. Across the way, someone was in the middle of getting their mail. Openly gawking at me, they—and the

wind—reminded me I was standing there in my underwear. Lifting a hand, I gave the woman an ecstatic wave. I got to enjoy her astounded face, but then a hand grabbed my elbow and tugged me inside. “Get in here, you idiot,” Eliza laughed. Shutting the door, I realized every woman in that house was crowded in the entry way. They'd seen everything. “Sorry,” I said, rubbing the side of my neck. “That wasn't the sort of show Eliza paid me to put on for you girls.” Some of them clapped, pumping their fists high. Eliza waved her arms, shooing them out of the tight space. Giggling so that the noise merged into one loud, ear-bending mass, the party-goers dispersed towards the room with the drinks and music. Only Zoe and Eliza remained, the former leaning on the wall as if I wouldn't see her. “Seriously, Huck,” Eliza said, her arms folding tight. “Thanks for throwing that asshole out of here. What a clown. I canceled on him, his contract means shit. I don't owe him a dime.” “If he shows up to collect again, call me. I'll help him understand the message.” Zoe perked up, but she remained silent. Her sudden shyness was so odd to me. Then again, I had to admit, I didn't know anything substantial about her. How she acted when we were alone wasn't going to indicate her normal personality.

Sighing, Eliza flipped her hair back. “Muscle for hire. Thanks for the reminder. Anyway, Zoe, sorry you had your private dance interrupted.” She wiggled her eyebrows, but Zoe was busy fixating on me. Stepping off from the wall, she approached us both. “Wait, what do you mean by muscle for hire? I thought you were a stripp—uh, a dancer.” I didn't hide my laugh or my smirk. “Stripper is fine. A guy should have a few talents, though. That's just one.” And really, I thought to myself, Stripping... isn't my usual stomping ground these days. There was more money in whoring myself out to the right women. Plus, I genuinely preferred it. “I'd give you a card, but...” I motioned to my lack of pockets. Eliza moved to a chair, unhooking a black purse. “Here,” she said, “I still have one.” Digging out a thin piece of cardboard, she clopped back on her heels to Zoe. Curiosity bloomed as the red-head took the card from her friend. Her eyes flicked to it, then to Eliza, then to me. “You seriously have a business card?” Shrugging, I rested my thumbs on the elastic band of my underwear. Purposefully, I lowered the fabric and enjoyed how she flushed. “In a business like mine, all my work comes from reference. If I leave a good impression, people call me back.” Eliza broke up the tension, tossing her head at me as she laughed. “Read the back of the card, Zoe.”

Shaking herself, waking up from the warm cotton of my voice, Zoe did as she was told. Her smile was subtle. “Huxton Blake: Muscle for hire. So you're what, a stripper and a bodyguard?” “I'm whatever you need,” I said. “I'm someone who prevents trouble or chases it off, like our friend Kit back there.” I peeled my briefs lower, the top of my pubic bone showing. “Or... I'm a warm body in your bed. Like I said, I'm whatever you need. Just give me call, I always answer.” Zoe cleared her throat, grabbing a purse off the counter and tucking the card inside. “Uh, right. Listen, Eliza... I think I need to go get some air. Why don't you and Huxton entertain the girls before they tear our living room apart?” My stomach dropped. I'd expected her to ask me to continue our lap-dance. “What, you're leaving?” Eliza's disdain was obvious. “Zoe, don't do that. This is your party!” Lifting her hands, Zoe spread her fingers and smiled. “I know, I know. I'll be back, I swear. I'm just...” Shooting a sideways look at me, she faltered. “I'll be right back, seriously.” The unease I had melted away. She's not getting air, she's getting space from me. Alright. Not what I preferred, but it was flattering. Causing someone to need a breather from my presence was intriguing... and good for my ego.

“It's fine,” I said, moving towards her as I swayed down the hall. “I'll go calm the masses. See you after, Zoe.” As I slid by her, I lowered my head and inhaled so deeply, so loudly, that both girls heard the sound. The fire in my eyes was real. It matched the one in my belly, the one that was still pissed it hadn't been sated when we were alone. Tightening like a spring, Zoe watched me go. All the way until I rounded the corner, until I was swept up in the roar of the hungry crowd, those blue eyes tracked me like a bloodhound. She never even blinked. Oh yes. I looked forward to more time alone with this girl.

- Chapter TwoZoe

Pure strength and perfect flesh. Each piece of it, each curve, coated in the permanent mark of ink that drew my eye even further. Huxton was gorgeous. I fucking hated that. Why did he have to look and sound and smell so good? How was this fair? Even when he vanished out of my line of sight, I still looked at where he'd been. It was easy to imagine him, he should have been from my imagination. Hell, he should have just existed in my head, not appeared at this crazy party my roommate had thrown for me. Eliza cleared her throat. Twisting, I was half-way to blushing before I saw the accusing glint in her eyes. “Don't even,” I said, warning her. “Zoe Zoe Zoe,” she sighed dramatically. “Did I pick the right entertainment for you, or what?” For me, I thought cynically. “Eliza, please give me a break here.” “I'm only teasing.” Her glossy lips spread over her pearly teeth. “But he's something else, isn't he?” Recalling how his cock had sizzled between my thighs, I shivered. “Something else, yeah.” Which was

why I had to shove him from my mind. This had been fun, too fun. I was minutes away from doing something in Eliza's bedroom I shouldn't have ever considered. Of course, my mind and body disagreed. Grabbing my coat off of the rack behind the door, I slid my arms into it. The green material hung with a welcoming weight. Even in LA, it would get cold in December. Especially when it got late... and I planned to be out late. “I'll see you after,” I said, twisting the knob and stepping into the growing evening. Eliza's voice was crisp. “You better!” I hated lying to her, though it wasn't entirely a lie. I would see her later. Just much later. Way after the party had cleared... And after Huxton had left the house. Tucking my chin into the coat, I started down the street and towards the metro. I didn't have a car, couldn't afford it. Luckily, I was used to traversing the sprawling city via bus or subway. From my purse, I slid my earbuds into place and flicked through my phone for some music. It had become my routine over the last six months. God, had it only been that long? It felt like I'd been making the same trip for years. It was draining me. The music, low and fierce, was supposed to be soothing. Except now the tunes were making me think of a certain bedroom and a more specific man. Tattoos and gyrating hips. A pair of green eyes that wore me down,

and a cock so thick and hard it wanted to rip right through my rapidly dampening panties—Nope. Nope nope nope. Scowling both mentally and visibly, I glared at my reflection in the subway window. Stop it Zoe. Don't do this to yourself. You know this game, you just got out of it. Guys like Huck... they weren't new to me. They were my old, familiar comfort zone. My doom. I wouldn't make a mistake like that again. Changing the song, I found something more peppy and upbeat. It came close to easing the bitter acid in my mouth. I had some time to kill. I'd expected I'd be able to enjoy my party—Eliza had been kind enough to organize it—and not have it run over into my required engagement. It would still have been fine, except for that fucking guy. If I'd stayed, who knew what I would have done. I couldn't take the risk. Riding the metro up and down the entire Red Line, I did two loops. Time drudged by, the normal anxiety that came with where I was heading taking over. Thoughts about Huxton faded. It was time. The voice over the intercom boomed the name of the stop we pulled into. I heard it through my earbuds, clutched my purse and stepped out onto the platform.

The station was busy, packed with people who were beginning their night out. Saturday in Hollywood, it was always crazy. In my comfortable flats, the dress kicked around my legs as I jumped the stairs that led to the streets above. It was bright out, they'd decorated every palm-tree with Christmas lights for the season. They lit my way, the red and blue fading when I ducked down a side-street. Where I was going, there would be no delightful holiday spirit. Zipping my jacket higher, I wandered the familiar alley. The walls around me displayed graffiti, random swears and esoteric symbols. Buildings crowded me, all so lifeless; or at least, they looked that way. Finally, I halted in front of a wide, rusted door. It looked like a garage. I knew better. Not knocking, I slid the door upwards, ignoring the metallic screech. Yellow light hit me, illuminating the alley I wanted to run back out into. If only I could have. Quickly, I ducked inside and gave up on my urge to run away. The room was bigger than it looked from the outside. Equipment sat, unused and ghostly. Heavy bags, thick ropes, weights... it was an abandoned gym. Well, I say abandoned. I knew where everyone was. Crossing to a door, I cracked it. The noise echoed below, rolling up the stairs and telling me clearly that the underground space was going to be packed. The Dog House always was on Saturday nights.

Unlike the folks above, strolling Hollywood and getting drunk in the clubs... the people here had a specific taste. They screamed for blood. I didn't need to be quiet, but I tried to, anyway. When I reached the bottom level, I saw the crowd around the ring. Shit, it's seriously packed tonight. Checking my cellphone, I confirmed that I wasn't late—it was only nine—and also ignored the two texts from Eliza. I could predict what they said: “Are you coming back?” or something like “Huck keeps asking for you!” Alright. Maybe not that last one. I shouldn't have even joked about it. “Hey, Zoe!” Turning, I saw the thick, muscled man approaching. I recognized him, of course. No one just forgets their exboyfriend, even if it'd be a blessing. Towering over me, Reese was a figure from a heroic story of legend. I mean, people weren't supposed to look like that anymore. No one else existed that compared to Reese. Except, hadn't I met a guy who did, earlier tonight? The memory of Huck's smooth skin and rough hands made my belly flutter. It was a challenge to erase my blush by the time Reese reached me. Dressed in black shorts, a tight, fitted tank-top and hand-wraps, he was ready for the upcoming match. I appreciated that, even if I still felt ill watching Reese pummel his challengers into broken messes. He was a violent man—I hated being near him.

But I fucking had to. “Glad you made it,” he said, reaching down to wrap me in a hug. Flinching, I shrugged out of the embrace. “Of course I made it. I always make it. It isn't like I have a choice.” Reese wrinkled his nose, scratched his shoulder. “Yeah, well. Anyway. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I got you something.” In the two years we'd dated, on and off, not once had he remembered my birthday. I'd always waved my hand, made excuses. Fuck, I was so good at excuses. I wanted to tell him how shocked I was. I never got to speak. Reese was on me, fingers catching my upper arms, lips crushing on mine in a kiss. He didn't get far, but I hated that he had touched me at all. Jamming my nails into his forearms, I shoved him back until he stopped. “What the hell?” I gasped, cradling my cheek like he'd punched me. His square jaw hung low, brown eyes almost... hurt. But no, I knew this man. It sucked that it had taken so long to figure him out—to accept the kind of person that he was—but now I knew. It helped that I'd had a nice wake up call when I'd walked in on him at our apartment a month ago, balls deep in some girl I didn't even know. Reese wasn't sad from my rejection. He was fucking insulted.

“What the hell?” he repeated me, tilting his head. “I thought you'd like that. I was trying to be sweet for you.” “You have no right to be 'sweet' to me—to even touch me!” Rubbing my lips frantically, I didn't mute my disgust. “You lost the right to do that when you cheated on me. Remember?” His thick shoulders went up to his ears. “Oh, come on! That was like, weeks ago! I thought we could make up, that you'd forgive me by now.” “Why would I ever forgive you?” Energy boiled in his glare. Those flames of danger, the heat that had once enticed me to Reese, now turned my heart chilly. “Because you fucking owe me, Zoe.” I didn't like the flat edge in his voice. “You know you do.” This was what made my situation dreadful. There were many parts of this that I hated. The constant threat over my head, though? That scraped at my soul. Reese knew he had me. Without him, I was fucked. With him... I still felt fucked. So why was I putting up with him? Why did I let him touch me and coerce me and constantly try to use my body, all when he was a worthless piece of shit? He always reminded me that I 'owed' him. And... he wasn't entirely wrong. But that didn't mean that every time I saw him, he was allowed to put his hands on me. Something inside me fractured away. It drifted and became dust, burned by my rising, self-righteous heat.

There are moments where ignoring our pride would serve us best. This was probably one of them. I should have agreed with my ex, bowed my head, and gone on with my night. Instead, I locked my eyes on Reese's. “I don't owe you shit.” Laughing, he threw his hands in the air. “Yeah? You think so? Fine. Enjoy your evening.” Twirling, his broad back was all he showed me. Long legs took him halfway up the stairs in a blink. “Where the hell are you going?” I asked, following in his wake. My panic was rising. “You have a match, Reese!” Oh god, it's happening. He's really abandoning me. Pausing, he tossed me a smile so bitter that I could taste it. “No. You have a match. I've been doing this for you, remember?” “You promised me that you'd help me with this! You're supposed to fight in each match until I've paid off the fucking loan!” “Guess I just feel like I don't owe you shit, Zoe.” His teeth were dark grey in the stairwell shadows. “Have a good night. Say hi to Nehro for me.” I heard him even after he vanished, heavy steps—the metallic crunch of the building door. Fuck. I should have bit my damn tongue. Roughing up my hair, I tugged at the roots. What was I supposed to do now? I had a god damn contract to fulfill. With my ex gone, who would fight in the pit?

Nehro was going to kill me. No, I thought, my lungs going tight. Worse. Way worse. My debt ran deep. I knew what was facing me. Without a fighter, I was breaking the agreement. Reese... he'd been to every match since the start. I should have foreseen that the breakup would have made him less willing to help, but... I never thought he'd bail. I should have seen this coming. Fucking hell, I was so tired of this crap. I blamed myself for the mess, I'd made too many wrong choices. I wasn't going to let Reese walk all over me, though. Fuck him for thinking he could betray me and then just get back in my pants. Use me because without him... Without him I was screwed. Biting my thumbnail, I looked around the room. There was a match about to start, how long did I have until mine? If Nehro found out I'd come up empty, I was done. I knew what he had planned for me. Like I'd summoned him, I saw the tall, long haired man coming my way. Nehro dressed like a Gothic vampire, all latex and boots and spikes. It was funny, though he was anything but. When I'd first met him, I'd thought he was a joke. Then he'd handed me the money I needed, and I'd decided he was someone to take seriously. I ached for the days before I knew what he had planned. I'd been ignorant. Ignorance was nice, sometimes.

“Zoe,” he purred, his hands deep in his jacket pockets. “I saw Reese leave. Do tell me he's coming back.” Shivering, I swallowed my bile down. “No. He's not.” Arching a thin brow, Nehro sighed sympathetically. “Oh dear. That's awful—for you, I mean.” Looking around, he eyed the place as if he could see my future among the rabble. “What are we going to do about that?” Sweat ran down my ribs. “It's fine, really. I'll find someone to fill Reese's spot.” The lie spilled free, my courage fake and hollow. The dubious stare Nehro shot me didn't help my confidence. “Who could you find at this hour to stand in?” “I've got someone in mind. Just give me thirty minutes, okay?” I didn't have a clue who I'd find. He couldn't know that, though. I had to figure something out. Like a spider, he inched towards me and set long fingers on my shoulder. Nehro rolled a strand of my hair, tugged it with false affection. “Thirty minutes. You find a replacement, or we move to the default section of your contract.” Dipping so that his lips tickled my earlobe, Nehro chuckled—a grizzly sound. “I look forward to your failure. Working off your debt with your body won't be so bad. Trust me.” Keeping my urge to vomit down, I stood there as he walked away. I had no parting comment, no response.

Nehro was a monster. I didn't want to test how far he'd push that fucking contract. It's true that he couldn't legally force me into prostitution. Legality doesn't matter when the life of a loved one is on the line. Wiping my palms on my dress, I started to dig for a tissue. I wanted so badly to scrub at where he'd touched me. Shuffling in my purse, my fingers brushed something flat. The sharp corner pricked me. What the hell? Into the light, I held the business card high. I'd like to pretend that angels sang and bells twinkled. Here was my answer, and just having an answer should have been uplifting. But calling in favors was the thing I hated most —it's what had gotten me where I was. I didn't want help. I just... needed it. Turning the card, I read the scrawling crimson letters against their dark purple background. Huxton Blake. Muscle for hire. Isn't that what I'm looking for? Scrunching my eyes shut, I yanked out my phone and climbed the stairs. I felt Nehro's intense stare the whole time. He probably thought I was trying to bail. I would have, if that was possible. Breathing deep, I held my lungs at full capacity. When I went dizzy, and still no other solutions came to mind, I let the air rush out. This was it. I had to fucking do it.

Seeing Huck again wasn't ideal. The guy threw me for a loop the way every tough acting, confident bad boy type did. I hated that, so the easiest path was to step back and avoid him... and everyone like him. Reese had been the final straw. I was soured on assholes. They seemed strong and acted like they were into you, but they always bailed when they couldn't get you to spread your legs. They thought with their damn dicks. I knew better. Even if Huck had made me swoon with his rock-hard body and cocky attitude, I fucking knew better. I would get out of this whole mess. Except to do that... I had to beg him for help. This would be the last time. God, let it be the last time. Lifting my phone, I eyed the card and tapped the numbers in. The ringing was a gong in my skull. Part of me didn't want him to answer. My gut knew he was my only option. The ringing was cut off. “Hello?” Huck's smooth voice, it had my blood tingling. Even when he wasn't close to me, he was getting under my skin. “Who is this?” Pacing through the gym, I clutched the phone. It was astounding that my tongue was working. “Huxton? This is Zoe.” I paused, debating how to explain. “From the birthday, earlier.”

“I remember.” Was he smiling? It sure sounded like it. “Honestly, I didn't think you'd call so fast.” Standing straight, I didn't dwell on his implication that I would have called him at all. “I have... sort of an emergency.” Lifting the card, I read it again, giving myself strength. “When you said you could be hired for muscle, did you mean it?” Maybe the frantic, breathy quality to my words gave him the hint that I was nervous. His voice dropped, fierce and without question. “What's wrong. Tell me.” His bluntness cut right to the point. I appreciated that. “Can you get to the cross-street of Hollywood and Oak in thirty minutes?” Something jingled in the background. His keys? Was he already moving? “Yes, but you need to tell me why.” “I know. I'm pretty sure you won't like the reason.” “Let me be the judge of that.” Picturing how Huxton had shoved Kit out the door, I steeled myself. “Huck, have you ever been in a fight? A real fight?” On the end of the line, there was a moment of quiet. Cold ice rolled down my back, my brain quick to imagine him hanging up and leaving me without a solution. What was I thinking? I didn't know this guy, he'd been a stranger who'd rubbed up on me at my party. There was no way he'd want to show up somewhere in the middle of the night just because I rang his damn number.

Why would Huck ever fight for me? I wasn't ready for his laugh, or how genuine and rough it was. “Hollywood and Oak, you said?” That time, I recognized the sound of an engine revving. “See you in thirty, sugar.”

I turned the card in my hand for the twelfth time. The edges were bending from how I fingered it. It was all I had to convince myself I wasn't about to get fucked over. Again and again, I read those words and tried to find some faith. Muscle for Hire. He'll do it, it's a job to him. I was going to be rescued by a male stripper. Footsteps on the stairs reached my ears. I watched as Nehro climbed into view, his smile too sweet. His voice was candy and arsenic. “It's time. Unless your fighter is invisible...” Craning his neck, he mocked me by searching the gym. We both knew no one was here. “I'm about to have some angry customers, Zoe.” Cringing, I held the business card so tight it cut into my palm. “He's coming. I swear, he'll be here any second.” “Who is he?” Strolling towards me, Nehro held his shoulders back; a proud walk. “Is it Reese, did you call

him and ask him to return?” “No,” I snapped. “Of course I didn't.” I had no plans to ask him for help. He'd already tried to abuse the frail nation that I owed him for introducing me to Nehro. A thing I regretted every fucking time I walked into this building. Dark, silky hair slid over his neck when Nehro angled his face like an owl. “Begging your ex to save you is worse than spreading your legs for me, I take it.” The jagged edge of his smirk turned my stomach. Crushing the piece of cardboard, I felt my optimism fading. Huck wasn't going to show. Time was up for me. “I'd fight in the ring myself before I'd let you make money off of my body.” “Fighting is making money with your body.” He studied me, smugness shifting into curiosity. “You know the men wouldn't go easy on you in the ring. You'd let someone bust up your pretty jaw, just to save your pride?” “Save my pride,” I chuckled cynically. “That's a polite way to phrase not wanting to be whored out to pay off a debt.” He wasn't smiling any longer. “I can stop being polite, if that's what you prefer.” Two steps, he was on me. Nehro's aura was a razor on my throat. He didn't need to hold the weapon for me to feel the danger. “You're out of time, Zoe. I'm not about to let you get destroyed in the ring. Your body is worth much more.”

Looking down his nose at me, his slippery smile grew anew. He said softly, “I'd fight you myself. I could guarantee you came to no real harm.” Nehro scraped a fingernail along my forearm. “Just enough pain to show you this path ends with your pink lips and sweet cunt filling my wallet. It ends with you on your knees, until you're cleared of what you owe me.” True terror locked up my tendons. I wanted to spit on him, and all I did was hold my breath and pray for a fucking miracle. Echoing through the gym, the tapping on the door made me flinch. Nehro blinked, glaring at the entrance accusingly. Again, sharper than before, the knocking came. “Hello?” Huxton called, muffled through the wall. “It's me, Huck. You in there?” Nehro shared a look with me. Breaking away, I ducked and wrenched the door up so fast it pulled my shoulder painfully. “Yes! I'm in here!” Standing in the blue of the night, his body lit up like a fucking angel in the golden glow of the gym, Huxton was as close to a saint as I'd come across in a long while. He wasn't nearly-naked like I'd seen him last, nor was he in the stuffy suit he'd stripped out of. In dark jeans and a closed leather jacket, he looked casual—wonderful. I spotted the motorcycle in the alley behind him. It explained how he'd gotten here so fast... or just fast enough.

The tattooed man took me in, his grin extremely pleased. “Hey there, long time no see.” What a fucking joker. But he'd made me smile, though I think it was from relief more than anything else. “You made it. I thought—” Cutting myself off, I jammed the card into my purse. It didn't hold a square shape anymore, my palm was covered in red lines from the tension of squeezing it. “Come on, we need to get you ready.” “Right, ready.” His attention shot over my head. I followed the look; Huck had noticed Nehro. Lowering the door, he spoke to me softly, never taking his wary stare off of the other man. “You could start by telling me what's going on.” Nehro cleared his throat. “So, you're the one she called.” Extending a hand, he waited for Huck to shake it. “I'm Nehro Grant, her... employer.” Standing to his full height, making me realize he was just big enough to look down on Nehro, Huxton shook his hand. “You don't say? I'm Huxton, guess I'm technically Zoe's employee for the evening.” He winked at me, and I knew he had no clue how serious all of this was. How could he? Shit. Calling him had been a selfish move. What was wrong with me? Self-preservation, I told myself firmly. Desperation. I had no choice. It didn't make me feel any better.

Nehro chuckled, the knuckles in his hand going white. He was squeezing Huck roughly, eyeing me in distaste. “Employee? That's one way to look at it. Do you know why you're even here?” Pulling his arm back, Huck was unfazed. He didn't act like Nehro's handshake had hurt at all. “Sure do,” he grunted. No, he didn't. I was grateful he was lying for me. Having Nehro learn that Huxton had been my get-out-ofjail-free card was demoralizing. I wanted to get him alone so I could spill the details out of earshot. Crinkling my nose, I put a hand on Huck's shoulder, guiding him towards the stairs. “Alright, enough chitchat. There's a schedule to keep.” Leaning up, I hissed into his ear quietly. “I promise I'll tell you what's going on, just... away from him.” Nehro followed us down into the basement. The crowd was buzzing, impatient for the next fight—my fight—to begin. Under my palm, Huck's back was flexing through his jacket. I knew how good his skin felt, I'd experienced it. I prayed his ripped body wasn't just for show. At the bottom step, I led Huxton towards a far wall. There wasn't much down here besides the ring. Nehro had a tiny office across the way, there were some benches in spots but everyone tended to stand around the circle in the cement instead.

I'd never seen another underground fighting pit. I bet they all looked just as grimy. “Okay,” I said, pushing Huck into the corner. “We have maybe three minutes.” Facing me, he tucked his thumbs into his pockets with a confident smile. “That's very specific.” Jerking my head towards the round clock on the wall, I spoke faster. “You should have been in the ring five minutes ago. Nehro is smoothing it over.” I could hear the change in the air, angry murmurs becoming agitated, but subdued. “What do you have on under your jacket?” “I thought you called me to be your muscle, not to get me naked again.” Heat swam up my neck. “This is serious.” Pursing his lips, Huck slowly zipped the front down. “Stripping for you certainly was serious.” It took a great effort not to let my mouth fall open. He saw into my head, or the guy was just good at body language, because why else was he smirking so wickedly? The shirt he had on was basic grey, long sleeved for the season. Too easy to grab, plus it'd slow him down. “That's going to suck to fight in,” I muttered. “The jeans might be alright, but...” “Back up. Tell me who the hell I'm even fighting.” Scanning the mass of people, he looked less surprised than I thought he should. There was a giant erase-board nailed to the opposite wall, close to Nehro's office. Pointing, I reached out to

take his jacket. “His name is Shrapnel. Here, let me hold that for you.” Huck offered me the garment, eyes slitting together. “Shrapnel? Sounds dangerous.” Clutching the leather, feeling Huxton's warmth on it, I nodded. “He's not exactly going to hug you.” His smile melted, and with it went whatever fraction of false courage I had left. The shame was bigger, weighing me down. “Look... maybe this was stupid of me. Asking you to go in there and take on a guy you don't even know, it's kind of insane.” Fuck. I was talking my only savior right out the god damn door. Huxton fighting was the only method left to avoid paying Nehro off in whatever perverse fashion he could come up with. If he just fought for me, just tonight... I could find someone else for next time. Maybe. ...Doubtfully. But I'd have the time to try. “Calling me wasn't stupid.” Stunned, I struggled to find my tongue and make words. “What?” Through the air, a bell chimed. The last warning, the fight was going to start now—or not at all. Huck turned away from me, strolling toward the ring as he talked. “Muscle for hire, that's my job. Besides...” Tossing me one last smile, he peeled his shirt over his head and exposed his marble-carved body to the room. “You're acting like this is going to be my first fight.”

My heart swayed. Could he get away with being so cocky? “Do whatever you have to in there,” I blurted. “Shrapnel... he won't hold back. This isn't normal fighting. This is illegal, violent stuff. You could get really hurt in there.” You could die. I didn't say that last part. Would you believe that his amusement never faltered? “Again. Not my first fight, doll.” I caught his shirt when he threw it. Eyes had turned our way, Huxton weaving through the crowd with me chasing his heels. The ring was just a thick chalk outline, wide as a backyard swimming pool. On one end waited Shrapnel, a man with just as much mass as Huck—and no where near the same stock-pile of smiles. Nehro hovered by that side of the ring, his arms linked behind his back. Those piercing eyes found me among the shouting bodies. I didn't appreciate the anger in his frown. He'd wanted me to fail. The bastard had thought he'd had me tonight. Well, too bad for him. Even if Huck lost, I was safe. I'd fulfilled the shitty, iron-clad bargain. One fighter per event, that was my part of the deal. Screw Reese... I'd come out on top. You're just going to owe someone else, now. My reality was cold and hollow. I buried it under my rush of excitement. The tension in the air had hit a peak now that the fighters were both facing off.

Shrapnel had wrapped his hands, the red tape foreboding. Many men had soaked his knuckles with blood. The guy was a brute, no mouth guard and missing teeth. Scars dappled his skin where tattoos didn't, and he'd shaved his head so that no one could grab his hair. He didn't play around. Huck is about to get destroyed. Knotting my hands in my dress, I migrated around the ring—shoving the screaming attendees aside—until I was able to get a better look at the green-eyed man. He was standing comfortably on the balls of his feet, fists low at his hips. I looked and felt more nervous than he did. Again, I found myself appreciating his appearance. I wouldn't ever call myself shallow, but I had a type and as much as I loathed that—Huck fit the bill. His strong jaw had a slight indent, his cheekbones solid, ready to cut glass. Thick, blue-black hair, a dapple of stubble that gave him a relaxed appearance. Huck wasn't the kind of guy who worried if he was shaved clean. How would that roughness feel on my skin? He'd whispered in my ear before, touched me, rubbed close... but not once had I felt the scrape of his five o'clock shadow. A bruise-colored heart pulsed on his jugular, dangling knuckles stamped in diamonds. It was funny. He'd been all over me earlier, but I'd been entirely too wrapped up in my battling emotions to catalog him so well.

I'm doing it now because—why? Eyeing the way his belt clung to his hips, I shivered. Because I know when he loses, he's going to look nothing like this ever again. Shrapnel would pummel Huck into puree. Nehro shouted, voice booming over the roar. “Shrapnel versus Huxton! Betting is closed, folks. Standard rules, no weapons...” He looked right at me. “And no mercy.” There was a second where time stood still. I felt it, debated the things I could or could not do. Leaping into the ring would have been heroic. Foolish. It would seal my future. It could save his. Maybe, after I died and met my maker, they would consider that I'd at least thought about stopping this massacre. I didn't deserve that kind of consideration, though. There was no salvation for fuck-ups like me; in this world, or the next. A bell rang, stopping my white knight dreams in their tracks. Shrapnel spit on the ground, fists held high by his square jaw. He'd never met Huck, but it was obvious to everyone that this new fighter in our ring hadn't come prepared. Who fought in jeans and boots, who didn't at least wrap their hands or put on gloves? I'd have given him some, if I'd had any. I owned no gear that would fit him. I owned... nothing. Increasingly nothing, not even my own life. Nehro held that in his spidery fingers.

The men studied each other as they circled. Huck's steps were fluid, slow, and never moving closer. He kept a constant gap between them. Shrapnel was eager to get in that space. Everyone screamed—delight for most, panic for me —when Shrapnel leapt forward. He propelled himself, a living projectile. A ham-sized fist sought out Huck's beautiful, unfairly handsome face. I'd known this would go bad. I hadn't expected this bad, or so fast, but—fuck. I was a worse monster than Nehro. I'd put Huck in front of a god damn train, waved my hand and said Good luck! I deserved what was going to happen to me. Every molecule in the air vibrated expectantly. Huck's face, against all odds, didn't explode into fragmented red. Faster than seemed possible, he ducked low and rolled away. That alone had my mouth falling open. But he wasn't done. Spinning on his knees, Huck threw his arms out and tackled Shrapnel around his thighs. The thick man toppled over, grunting in disbelief. With the upper hand, Huck wrenched a shoulder back and crushed his knuckles straight into his opponent's temple. A hush lulled the crowd. It hung a mere second, then resurfaced as a tornado of cheers and fucking barking. They weren't human, they were animals. Liquid pride flooded me. Holy shit! Cupping my palms around my mouth, I joined in the noise. Huck's

jacket and shirt came along for the ride, his essence sinking through my nose and into my brain. My lungs thrummed with pure excitement. It wasn't possible. This wasn't possible. But it was happening. He was winning... I was winning. Not wanting to look away from the fight, Nehro still caught my eye on the opposite end of the pit. There was no disguising the horrific tilt to his tight lips. His entire aura smoldered, a nuclear flare that begged to leave me in ruin. That man, he hated what was happening—hated that I was slipping away. I lifted my head and gave him the biggest smile I could. Shrapnel growled, shoulders rippling. More bear than human, he tore at Huck and threw him to the side. Wincing, Huck skidded to a halt on his knees. Those green eyes flashed, looking past Shrapnel—right at me. My heart burrowed down into my stomach. I wanted to scream, “Don't watch me, watch him!” I'd lost my voice, hands making a megaphone that I never used. What was Huck doing? He had to get up, Shrapnel was going to cave his brains in! The giant man's skull gleamed in the overhead lights. He grinned, teeth crimson from his own blood. For the second time, he spat on the gritty floor.

Unlike Huck, Shrapnel never took his eyes off his target. He'd been meant to fight my ex. If that had happened, he would have lost. Reese, for all his flaws, was an expert fighter. Now, facing down someone like Huck, Shrapnel was cocky. He was going to win, that realization gleamed in his dish-water eyes. In a rush, air returned to my lungs. I pushed it out and up, begged my tongue to do something useful. “Huck!” I screamed, tearing at my vocal cords. I needed to be heard over the blood thirsty shouts. “Look out! Move!” That stupid fucking grin of his. He'd die with it so firmly on his face. Shrapnel rammed forward, reaching for Huxton. Slippery lightening, Huck darted aside at the last second. The momentum sent the other man flying, falling into the cement. A rabid animal, yet somehow entirely in control, my fighter—my fighter—jumped onto the broad back of his enemy. Tattooed arms wound tight, sinking into Shrapnel's trunk-like throat from behind. The raspy gag as the man choked for air ricocheted around the ring. People pumped their fists, no longer obvious in who they cheered for. I realized I was digging my nails into my palms. Shaking, I forced my fingers to unclench. I couldn't make my stomach do the same.

Sweat glistened along Huxton's spine. Every fiber flexed, I could count each of them. I did it, just to keep myself focused. They popped along his shoulders and forearms. Under him, Shrapnel strained... and in a great wave, went entirely limp. It was happening for real. Huck had done it. We'd really won. My ears rang with the new roars of adrenaline. Howling, they became wolves under a full moon. Everyone was jumping, shoving, clapping or scowling. Money did funny things to people. So did violence. Pushing through the mess, I darted over the chalk outline just as Huck let Shrapnel go. The big man was still, mouth open and drooling blood. He'd be fine. This was probably one of the least messy fights Shrapnel had come out of. “Huck,” I gasped, reaching out for him instinctively. I needed to know he was really okay, and that... that he didn't hate me for getting him into this. Turning, he looked down and met my eyes. There was nothing even close to hate there. Not anger, not disgust. Emeralds watched me, glowing like Huck had eaten the sun and replaced his blood with it. Dammit. The bastard had my heart pumping again. Grinning crookedly, he said, “Are there more of them?” I blinked. “More what?”

“Men I need to tear down for you.” His eyebrows drifted low, shining with the dampness of his sweat. I forgot how words even worked. Footsteps came to us, men bending down to drag Shrapnel away. They'd patch him up, make sure he was fine. It was doubtful he'd go to a hospital. Nehro had people he could pay that were almost as good as real doctors. Involving actual hospitals put the ring at risk. Nehro liked to gamble... but he was too smart for risks. Thinking about the long-limbed man, I glanced around. Nehro was gone, no where to be seen. That was more than fucking fine. My match was done, I wanted to get out of here. I avoided Nehro like the plague when I could. “Well?” Huck asked, rolling his neck, testing the muscles. “The fights. Are they over?” Shaking myself, I stared back up at him. Oh. Right. That whole thing. Clearing my throat, I motioned for the stairwell. “They aren't done, but for you they are.” Handing him his jacket and shirt, I regretfully watched him hide himself under the clothing. “Let's go, you could use some air.” And so could I.

- Chapter Three Huxton

What the hell was wrong with me. My fingers—the fingers that had curled their way so happily around my phone when her fucking call came— were aching. I'd hit Shrapnel so hard, I wondered if my whole hand would be swollen tomorrow. It wasn't the pain that bothered me. It was my reason for allowing it to happen. Zoe had asked for my help. I mean, god, when I'd heard her breathless voice my insides had flipped around. When she hadn't returned for her party, Eliza had drank with me then sent me on my way, ranting about her roommate and her weird actions. Sure, I'd been disappointed. Zoe had gotten me so hard my cock could have snapped in two. I'd almost asked Eliza for her number, but I'd held off. I hated looking desperate. So... when that red-head with her fluttering lashes and little lies had reached out to me... I'd lost it. Really, I should have told her I wasn't driving anywhere without more details. She'd given me enough that logically, I should have hung up. Should have rolled

over in my bed and gone back to jerking off and waiting for one of my clients to call me. I'd needed to fuck, not to drive out into an unknown alley for an impromptu fight. None of it made sense. But I'd done it. And now that I was standing there, next to this intriguing woman in the cold air of a Hollywood December night... I regretted none of it. Zoe hugged herself, jacket pulled to her chin. The dress she wore wasn't keeping her legs warm, apples blooming on her pale cheeks. There were no stars to be seen, the light pollution of the city hid them away. But when this girl looked up at me, teeth chattering, I saw bursts of color in her crystal-blue eyes. She nodded her chin. “Nice bike, by the way. How fast does it go?” Glancing at my Harley, I pushed my tongue against my teeth. “Pretty fast. Fast enough to get me here in the nick of time, it sounds like.” Darting her eyes to the ground, then to the side, she spoke under her breath. “Sorry, I should be thanking you.” A strand of her copper hair flew loose. I craved to tuck it behind her ear. “Then why aren't you?” Her eyes widened, strangely accusing. “Asking you to come here was selfish of me. I'm not stupid, though.

Thanking you isn't good enough. You could have gotten really hurt in there.” “But I didn't.” Cocking my head, I shrugged with a smile. “You called me, I showed up. I tend to do that when I hear a pretty voice begging so nicely.” Fuck, I craved the blush that danced over her cheeks. I wanted to turn every bit of her hot and red. She asked, “How much?” “How much for what?” Digging into her purse, Zoe slid out a crumpled piece of paper. I didn't recognize it as my card until she smoothed it. “Muscle for hire. How much do I owe you?” A thanks isn't enough. Now I understood. She wanted to pay me. It was weird, but I hadn't even thought about money. This was so unlike any job I'd taken before. It wasn't a house-call, it wasn't sex or strutting. It was sort of like the times I went with a girl when she was fucking a John and needed to make sure he didn't hurt or rob her. Still... even that wasn't the same. Rubbing my cheek, I watched Zoe's plump pink mouth tug down at the edges. She didn't like my silence. I wanted to see into her skull, gather up her private thoughts and worries. Instead, I moved closer to her. Those blue eyes twitched a hair wider. “How much do you think I should charge?” “More than I have on hand.” Sighing, she handed my card to me. I didn't take it. “Just tell me a number. I'll do

my best to pay it off.” Purposefully, I slid my hands into my pockets. “Keep the card, you'll need it to call me again.” “I'm not going to call you again.” Arching an eyebrow, I stared at the rusty door of the building. Below our feet, according to Zoe, men were still fighting. “How can you know for sure?” Again, she stabbed at me with the card. “I'll find someone else for next time.” Tension burned into my teeth. I openly gawked at her, both of us understanding what she'd just let slip. I'd been implying she'd call me in a perverse way, for something fun and wet and wild. Zoe's head had been elsewhere. “Next time? There's a next time?” I growled. Her hands drifted down to her hips, then went up defensively as I lurched closer. “Zoe, what the hell is this place?” Her hair whipped as she shook it. “Forget about it! It's not a big deal.” “It's a big enough deal that you had to beg me, a stranger, to come here and help you.” The pain in my knuckles pulsed. I was putting pieces together at breakneck speeds. “You needed me to fight in there... but even though I won, you don't think you'll have enough money to pay me for my time. If Dracula back there isn't paying you or me for the fight, then why are you even here?”

She backed up, hitting my bike. My card fluttered to the ground. The motorcycle kept her from escaping, but there wasn't fear in her eyes. She was swelling with pride. Stupid, bitter pride. “It's none of your fucking business, okay? Tell me a number, then we'll both go home. You can forget any of this happened.” As if that was possible. “Zoe, I don't want money. I don't need it, I made bank at your birthday party earlier.” Plenty of private dances from hungry girls. “What I want is fucking answers.” Her glare was fierce. I think she was trying to set me on fire with her mind. “My party, right. You said it already, you're just a stranger.” The side of her neck pulsed and rippled. “I don't want to give you answers. I want to know what I owe you so I can go home and just let this night be over with.” Gazing down at her, I loomed so that my shadow turned her sapphire irises into onyx. “Until the next time, right? Until you have to find another guy to come here and fight in some crazy, no rules fist-fight?” Zoe had the grace to flinch. “Who did I replace tonight?” Her lips went bloodless, clamped to keep her from talking. Putting my hands on my bike, on either sides of her hips, I boxed her in. She flared her nostrils. In spite of the tension, this ridiculous woman—she was drawn to me. I couldn't judge, I could feel my own heart thudding in every one of my ribs.

“Zoe, tell me what this is. I'm not going to leave you alone until I understand.” Thinking about how she'd been so edgy about the money, I pressed on. “You don't have to pay me, I don't want anything from you. Okay?” Her chest inflated with air. It came close to touching mine. “Everyone wants something. I'm not naïve enough to think you're different.” Breaking our staring contest, she gazed out into the evening. “If I tell you, you promise to let me leave?” I'd become a barrier to her escape. I hadn't planned to, but with the promise of answers so near, I inched my hips forward and nudged against her body. Zoe flinched, snapping her face back to mine. “Let me be clear. I prefer a girl wanting to stay near me.” My smile was slow to grow. “But if holding you hostage is necessary, I'll do it. Tell me what's really going on here... and I'll send you back home to your castle, princess.” Breathing in sharply, she rolled her attention from my lips to my eyes, then back again. She kept throwing me for loops. One second she was a foaming animal, the next she was fluttering and filling me with heat. What made Zoe struggle so hard against herself? As if someone had cracked a raw egg over her scalp, she quivered and locked up. I had her pressed on the motorcycle, but she didn't push me away. “You're pretty determined, huh?” she whispered. “When I want something, I always get it.”

Flushing up her throat, she took my meaning the way I wanted her to. “Alright. Okay. I'll tell you the deal. You're such a pain in my side.” Slumping, Zoe was a puppet whose strings had just been cut. “My ex—Reese —was supposed to fight tonight. He's always done it for me, since the beginning. He didn't appreciate how I blew off his advances tonight, though, so he stomped off like a pissy child.” Zoe breathed out, the air tickling over my throat. I could smell her, as if her emotions had a scent. Smoke, apples, and salt. I wanted to lick her and see if the aroma would change. I said, “He left, so you called me. Why not just walk away, why did you need someone to fight in there?” Tiny, fragile, her smile had no heart in it. “My 'boss' has expectations. I'll be blunt, I owe him a lot of money.” She eyed me, daring me to probe further. I just waited, letting her speak at her own pace. “Because of my contract with him, I'm working off that debt by bringing a fighter to these events. It makes him money, it gets me closer to being solvent, everyone is happy.” Except she was clearly not happy. Sighing, I backed up, air surging into the space between us. Zoe wrinkled her forehead, perhaps confused by how suddenly I'd ended our locked-horns. “Okay. Thanks for the history lesson.” “What, that's it?” Hesitating, she chewed her bottom lip. “You're really satisfied?”

“Satisfied?” Chuckling, I ran fingers through my hair. My joints still tingled from the punch I'd thrown at Shrapnel. “I'm entirely unsatisfied, Zoe. But I understand the situation better.” Opening her mouth, she imitated a goldfish. I had the impression she was about to say more. In the end, she crossed her arms and studied me. Neither of us moved, the wind tugging at our hair. She looked cold, but her voice held firm; no chattering here. “Then we're good? You really don't want anything from me for coming out here tonight?” I wanted a lot from her. I wanted more than I dared to say. The breeze ripped at her dress, lifting it high and exposing a swatch of her creamy skin. The surge of heat in my lower belly ran down, waking my cock. “You don't owe me anything.” It was comical, how twisted up her lips became. “...Thank you.” Grinning, I swung my leg over my bike. “Thank me by letting me give you a ride home. You're clearly freezing.” “It's not that cold,” she said, but her knees shook as she moved around me. I was going to help her on, but with a practiced motion, she hopped onto the seat with ease. This girl was constantly shocking me. I wasn't her first lap-dance, she works for an underground fighting ring, and she's clearly been on a

motorcycle before. Oh, and she has an ex. An ex with a 'pissy' temper who brawls in a place like this. Next time I saw Eliza, I'd pry more information from my old friend's lips and learn what Zoe was all about. Who she was, what motivated her... What I had to do to get between her legs. Actually, I sort of am right now. Chuckling, I wrapped my hand back, yanking her closer to me. On reflex, her arms wove around my chest, clinging tight. Through my leather jacket I bathed in her warmth, her being. It wasn't sex, but it was better than nothing.

- Chapter Four Zoe The city looked and felt different when you were whipping through it. No car or subway could make traveling feel like flying, not here. LA was the king of traffic jams. Even in the late hours, when people were just starting their bar-crawls or ending them, the roads were stuffed. Speed was a mere dream. But not now. Not with the metal monster screaming between my thighs. I hadn't ridden a bike in over a month. Reese had let me ride behind him—just like this—when we'd dated. I refused to share anything with that asshole ever again. Huck turned sharply, throwing me against his broad middle. Clinging so tight I worried I would snap his ribs, I ducked my forehead behind his shoulder. The cold air was invigorating, but it burned the tip of my nose. Is this okay? My skin on his jacket, my arms holding him in a vice... I was doing exactly what I'd promised myself I wouldn't. He was amazing in there tonight. Fast, powerful. Magnetic. Shuddering, I clenched my eyes shut. But Reese was, too, and I know how that ended. Huck was too similar to my ex. The epitome of what made my thighs shiver. That fucking desire, though, it had screwed me over. Huxton

was everything I did not need in my life. I'd been hurt, I was paying for my bad judgment—my stupid decision to believe in a man who had back-stabbed me. When cocky assholes didn't get what they wanted from you, they abandoned you. Huck was the same breed. He said he didn't want anything from me. The memory of him, standing so close and crushing me against his Harley... it was heart stopping. I ached to believe him. Wouldn't that be amazing, a bad boy who was altruistic? Impossible. Huck was sweet with words, sweeter with his smiles and wicked eyes. I had to learn to tell the difference between my intuition and the heat that melted my pussy. Lust wasn't the meter to judge people by. It couldn't be. Even if that would make everything so much simpler. The bike shifted fast; I clutched on, gasping. Through the leather that brushed my skin and tickled me with its strong scent, there was a rhythm. A soft, but wild beat that pushed into my chest and matched my own. His heartbeat. It became my focus. I wanted to keep my eyes closed, to just listen and feel him. As long as we rode, we could exist in this simple bubble and I wouldn't need to worry about tomorrow. Not an hour from now, not days or weeks. No future fights... no worries about Nehro or how much Huck was threatening to break my logic into tiny pieces.

Here, I could hug him and pretend this was it. This was my life. But no. My life wasn't simple and it certainly wasn't this. I didn't live far, I'd purposefully looked for an apartment near the fighting ring after I'd split with Reese. No car, no ex's motorcycle, I needed an easy path to the subway to reach a destination I'd be stuck with for the next ten years, minimum. Eliza's ad for a roommate had been serendipitous. Now, I sort of hated how fast we rumbled down the quiet street, slowing in front of the familiar house. The Christmas lights blinked, waving at me mockingly. Yes, hello, I mused to myself. Merry Christmas. Go fuck yourself. The engine died abruptly, telling me the dream was over. “We're here,” Huck said, twisting to watch me. Like water, I spilled away from him, creating as much distance as I could on that bike seat. His heat radiated over my arms and stomach. I felt him, praying the sensation would linger until I could slide into my bed and take care of the pressure in my lower belly. Yeah, I hated how much I hungered for this trouble-maker, but I was only human. Huck had excited me at my party, he'd driven me higher at the Dog House. The ride home had cinched it. Hate him or not, he'd haunt me until I got myself off. Maybe even beyond that.

Whatever. It was my own head, it didn't have the same risk as actually doing something with the man in front of me. Blankets and familiar fingers were safe. Lonely. Huck was staring at me expectantly. I sat up, adjusted my jacket. “Right. Thanks for the ride.” “My pleasure.” I think he meant it. At least, I wanted him to. Stop it, Zoe. Stop being crazy. Swallowing the lump that had crystallized in my throat, I slid off the motorcycle. My legs were numb, I moved too fast. Stumbling, I grabbed for the rear tire to steady my balance. Huxton caught me first, one strong arm around my middle to keep me standing. “Easy there. You alright?” “I'm fine, really.” His fingers dug into my hip. Shit, okay, I was too aware of each solid fingertip. I was not fine at all. “Just lost my balance.” His grin slid high on one corner. “If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were drunk.” In a sense, I was. He fogged my brain and stole my strength, how different was that from overdosing on alcohol? More fiercely than I needed to, I pulled out of his grip. He let me go, and I knew he let me go. He was more than capable of holding me where he wanted. His muscles were iron and stone.

Forcing my nerves to behave, I stared him in the eye. “Thanks for tonight. All of it. If you hadn't shown up, I would have been...” Fucking Nehro or whoever else he demanded. Spreading my legs to pay off that fucking loan. “In trouble.” I couldn't say the truth. It wasn't Huck's problem, and I had no plans to change that. “Everyone gets into trouble.” Shrugging, he searched in his pocket. I didn't see his other hand coming. His reach was long, he managed to catch me by the wrist and pull me to him from where he sat on the bike. The speed left me disoriented. His palm was silk, its strength undeniable. I bumped his knee, my focus rolling upward. I'd never met someone with eyes so green. The black centers tugged at me, whispered for me to get lost in them and never break free. Okay. This was going to be a problem. This was why I had to get away from Huck. But I didn't. Not right then. Instead, I hung on like a fly trapped in a web and waited for whatever he was about to do. I won't pretend I didn't stare at his lips, those teasing teeth that had touched me on Eliza's bed. I knew how his cock felt, sliding over my cunt. I knew that. Eliza's gift to me had been a curse. I couldn't let myself be around this man. He'd wear me down, and eventually, leave me broken. Used. Forgotten.

And it was a sign of how fucking pathetic I was that, knowing all of this, I still waited with bated breath for him to finish what he'd started. Lifting my wrist, he pressed something cool and flat into my palm. When I twitched but didn't react further, he closed my fingers around it. “Here, you left the other one back in that alley.” Blinking, I opened my hand and stared at the new, crisp business card. Huck's card. “I told you,” I whispered, wishing my voice was stronger. “I'm not calling you for help again.” “What you call me for is up to you.” Bending close, he tapped the surface of the card. “I do more than just fight muscle-bound men. Personally, I prefer wrestling with sweeter things.” Withdrawing his hand, he brushed his fingers over my wrist so lightly it had to be intentional. The buttery tingles he left in his wake shook me to my core. I was dazed and sluggish, until an electric jolt went to my brain and warned me what I was thinking. I want to kiss him. I looked from his lips to his eyes. Oh god, he wants to kiss me, too. Fuck. No. I couldn't do this. It'd be too easy. Ruining my already fragile future should never be so easy. With every fiber arguing against me, I stepped backwards. Huck didn't flinch, but the glow in his stare smoldered away. “I—okay. Alright. I need to go.”

Unsure what else to do, I lifted my arm and gave a lame wave. Furrowing his brow, Huxton mimicked me. His smile stretched like an elastic. “Good night, Zoe. See you soon.” See you soon. Why did he sound so sure of that? Saying nothing, I spun around and walked like a zombie to the front door. I fit in better with Halloween, as pale and hollow-eyed as I was. The Santa on the door beamed at me. I almost ripped it off. It took everything I had not to look back. I couldn't do it. If I saw him or how he was watching me, I'd crumble. Fuck. I was pathetic. Jingling the door open, I escaped into the protection of the house. I had walls between me and him; real, actual walls. Leaning on the door, I took a giant breath and slid to the floor. My knees went to my chest, my skull tapping against the wood behind me. I was free, and still, I felt trapped. What is wrong with me? I was as bad as the people who kept playing the lottery until they went broke, hoping one day they wouldn't waste their money, that they'd hit the jackpot. I'd spent my whole life throwing myself away. Guy after guy, so many wild adventures and draining men. It was what I'd always been drawn to. It was no better than a gambling addiction.

Not once had one of these guys—for all their sexy smiles or confident boasts—been good for me. They'd stolen a part of my soul with every encounter. Why, knowing that, did I expect Huck to be different? Yup. I'm stupid and crazy. This confirms it. Sitting up, I went to smooth my hair. In my hand, I found the sharp corner of his card. Lifting it high, I read the words and stifled a bitter laugh. Muscle for hire. Yet, he kept implying he'd like to do more for me than violently swipe aside a man in a ring. Frowning, I turned the little rectangle, looked at every side of it. Huxton was a stripper, but the card didn't say that. Not openly. How had Eliza known, then? Buzzing with wonder, I pushed myself to my feet. Hanging my coat and purse up, I tip-toed down the hall to my bedroom. I didn't want to wake Eliza, even if I had questions. I was too tired to deal with her scolding me about not coming back for my birthday party. In a way, it wasn't like I'd made her waste her money. She'd wanted me to be entertained by Huck. Well, I'd spent a good chunk of my night with him. Wasn't that sort of close, at least in spirit? Shutting my door, I fell onto my bed with a giant groan. Face first, not looking, I kicked my shoes off. They thumped to the floor, bouncing away. The blanket

was cool on my forehead. That was good, because my head was so hot I was sure I was running a fever. This had been a very long day for me. My heart had rattled around uneasily when Eliza had organized the party. I wanted to get away from alcohol and loud music and bad decisions. She'd just wanted to lift my spirits. I'd appreciated the effort. After leaving Reese, I'd depressingly realized that I was left with no friends. He'd been all I had, I'd gotten so wrapped up in him and his bullshit—and mine. His friends had remained just that; his. I'd been alone. Eliza was sweet, and also too good at prying information from me. When checking out the house in my rental hunt, she'd sat me down, poured me a drink— ignoring my protests—and insisted that she get to know me. She'd claimed it was all routine roommate stuff. Five drinks in, and I'd spilled the beans about Reese. I'm a sloppy drunk. I'm not proud of it. Maybe she sympathized, maybe she could relate. I still wasn't sure where her giant heart came from. That day, she'd offered me the room and lowered the rent so that my paltry waitress job would let me live here. LA was expensive, it drained my funds constantly. I'd have left if I could have. Frankly, between what I owed to Nehro and what I could barely make on my own, escape was impossible. But money wasn't the only reason.

Money had gotten me in trouble. It was my guilt that kept me locked in this place. Sighing, I shoved the bitter thoughts aside. I'd been in this mindset too long, too many nights. My life sucked, it wasn't new to me. I was determined to fix it. I'd spent my years wasting away in clubs and at parties and with scummy men. I was done with all of that. Well, once I clear my debt... THEN I'll be done with all of that. Until then, I'd always be forced to interact with Nehro—and Reese. Flopping onto my back, I stared at the ceiling and smoothed the knots from my windswept hair. The tangles that had been caused by the wickedly liberating motorcycle ride. His motorcycle. Huxton, why are you so firmly in my head? Tapping my temple, I chuckled. Get out. Go back to wherever you came from. Where did he come from? The man was an enticing mystery. A mystery you are not about to solve, I reminded myself. He fit the picture of a guy with problems. I was no longer in the business of trying to fix broken men. Broken, damaged, sexy fucking men. Dammit. Running my fingers over my collar bone, down to my stomach, I felt the ghost of his warmth. If I shut my eyes, I could smell the leather and musk of his aroma.

Huck couldn't be around me. I was too raw still, not ready to fight my desires. He'd given me his card... but I would never call him again. Unlike others, I could keep some promises. I was sure of that. Still, I mused, tracing my own bare thigh under my dress. He was something else. The way he moved, fuck. The way he felt, pressing between my thighs. Pushing my knees apart, I relived the lap-dance he'd given me. His methods were intense. He acted the whole time like he knew what he was doing to me. Maybe he had. Maybe he'd read every twitch and single breath I'd made, used it to make me crumble into shivering paste. His hands, his lips, his god damn thick cock. I'd hungered to feel it doing more than grazing over my panties. If that asshole—Kit—hadn't shown up, would we have broken down and gone for it? I kept assuming it was me who'd decide if we went all the way. What if Huxton hadn't been planning that? If I'd yanked my panties aside and begged him to fuck me, could he have said no? Inching my fingers down to the junction of my legs, I tugged at my underwear. No. He wouldn't have denied me. Maybe he'd have teased me, made me beg, but... He'd been so rock hard. No way he'd have resisted.

Closing my eyes, I watched the colors behind my eyelids. Reds and yellows pulsed, reminding me of his tattoos. I had such a fucking weakness for tattoos. His were everywhere, even his hands and neck. A guy like that feared nothing. He didn't care if no one would hire him because of such overt visuals. Did he really make his money stripping? And protecting people like me? Shivering, I thought about his strength. Outlining my pussy, I slid my panties lower. I was already wet, though not as soaked as I'd been when Huck had gyrated his erection against me. Thinking about him... doing this... it was dangerous. A really fucking bad idea. I'll never see him again. It'll be fine. Plus, I hadn't gotten laid in over a month. My body was starving. Rubbing myself softly, I pictured his smile. That cocky grin. I hated it and loved it. The way it warmed me was unfair. He was a shot of whiskey in front of a recovering alcoholic. I wanted to slurp him down, to fill myself with him and forget the reasons I shouldn't. A moan escaped me, fingers sliding easily over my swollen clit. So much pressure, so much heat. I was going crazy with my need for release. There was tension in every limb. It spread lower, controlling my stomach, reaching into my cunt and stoking my fires. My fingers weren't the same as a cock—any cock. His cock.

It had felt amazing, firm and fat and cruel. If he'd kept rubbing on me, I could have gotten myself off just from that. Panting heavily, I made small circles, teasing my clit. Dipping two fingers inside, I curled them, imagined they were his. It was a poor imitation, but it worked. Grinding onto my own palm, feeling his phantom lips on my throat, I moaned. Tingling down to my toes, I squeezed around my fingers, wriggled them quicker. Unable to wait any longer, I slid free and thumbed my sensitive button. His voice sank into my skull, filled the cracks of my brain. Inhaling, I smelled him—visualized him—and lost it. Wicked vibrations took over. My veins pulsed with not just blood, but electric need. Flexing with orgasm, I covered my mouth to muffle the noise. The last thing I wanted was to wake up Eliza. Trembling, laying in my sweat, I enjoyed the spasms of the lingering release. Liquid coated my inner thighs. I felt how wet I was, shoving my panties off my ankles and kicking them aside. They would be useless. What I really needed was a shower. A god damn, cold as ice shower. Closing my eyes, I put a pillow over my face and laughed bitterly. My life was a mess. I was a mess.

And yet, as I swaddled myself in the not-innocent glow of climax and greed, I didn't care. I had let myself enjoy something that I shouldn't have. I'd gotten off to the existence of a man that rebelled against my common sense. Falling asleep with my hand still resting between my thighs... I just didn't care. Happy birthday to me.

Rubbing my eyes, I growled at the rays of sunlight poking at my face. My window blinds were down, but that wasn't enough to make a difference. The sunny state of California was the enemy of late morning sleepers. It took a moment for my body to come alive. I felt the thumping in my skull, a sign I'd slept too late and not late enough. When blood hit my limbs, I shifted, realized my hand was still cupping my pussy. Blushing at the memory of what I'd done, I forced myself to sit up. Going to sleep with the sinful dream of Huxton in my head wasn't exactly conductive to my current plans. It's fine, no one knows but me. That wasn't much better. I was a judgmental jerk to myself already.

Yawning, cracking my back, I threw my dress into my laundry basket. Changing into a soft, light-blue shirt, I grabbed a fresh pair of underwear, then some shorts, and slid them on. A quick check of my phone, searching for messages, I stuck it in my pocket. Wrapping a long cardigan around myself, I crept into the hallway. The wood floor was cool under my feet. “Eliza?” I called, traipsing into the kitchen. I didn't see her. The microwave claimed it was already noon. Had I actually slept that late? “Eliza, are you here?” Frowning at her absence, I grabbed an apple from the fridge. She'd left the windows open, the oddly warm December air floating inside the apartment. With it, I caught the sound of a voice. Curious, I bit into the fruit and started walking. Was Eliza in the backyard? I didn't blame her, if she was. It looked incredibly nice outside, and I bet the green grass and flowers would look gorgeous. Eliza was giving me a crazy deal on my rent. A room in a house like this was easily triple what she asked of me. While I didn't like hand-outs, I made up for it by cleaning and tidying up more than my share required. It was small, but it was what I could manage. Down the hall, I came to the sliding glass doors. They led to the back patio and the in-ground pool, an extra perk. I loved swimming, and wished that it was turning summer instead of winter, now that I had access to a pool every day.

Pushing the door sideways, I stepped outside into the sun with my mouth partially full of apple. “Eliza?” I mumbled, her name wet and muffled. “Are you—” I never finished my sentence. How could I, with the scene before me? He stood there, a statue of shining flesh in the bright sunshine. Like Eliza, who was stretched out on a chair in just her pink bikini, Huxton was wearing nothing but a bathing suit, too. A simple pair of tight, black shorts; they clung to him, leaving little to the imagination. Never mind that it was god damn 'winter' and they were tanning. I had bigger complaints to take up with the universe or whoever made things happen. Why the hell was he here? Eliza perked up, waving to me. “Zoe! There you are, good afternoon, sleepy-head!” The apple in my mouth became dry sand. Turning my way, Huck slid his sunglasses up his head. They perched in his shimmering hair, tufts poking out around the edges in a roguish way. How could Eliza recline so close to him and not melt like a Popsicle? “Mornin', beautiful,” he called to me. I shot my eyes to my roommate. She hadn't reacted to his pet-name compliment. She looked relaxed, enjoying the sun that kept proving it was stronger than the expected grey of winter. Crossing one knee over the other, she stretched. “Get your suit on, come tan with us.”

Holding the apple like a weapon, I pointed it at Huxton. My voice was raspy, I was choking my mouthful of food down. “What is he doing here?” There was no softening of the accusation. Real, frustrated anger boiled up into my veins. They shared a look, Eliza pouting. “Wow, rude. I invited him over.” “Okay, but why?” Why would you call a stranger back here? I was aware of Huck watching me. I was fully clothed, but under his piercing greens, I felt exposed. Recalling how I'd woken up with my hand buried in my pussy, I turned beet red. This was not how I wanted to start my day. Shaking her chin, Eliza motioned up at Huck lazily. “Didn't I tell you? Huck and I go way back, we're old friends.” Jagged lightning rattled my brain. “You're what?” Huck laughed and said, “Friends. I hadn't seen her in awhile, though. I wanted to catch up with her after reconnecting yesterday.” “I didn't know you two already knew each other.” Watching him standing over her as she reclined, her looking gorgeous and so fitting at his side, a flicker of sick heat made its way into my stomach. No, nope. Don't feel jealous. Don't be dumb. Eliza pushed a fist to her cheek, smiling. “I definitely mentioned we knew each other. Remember, I had that old business card of his?”

“That's not the same as telling me you have a history.” What kind of history? Clenching my jaw, I bit into my apple. Eating was at least productive. Being silly and envious was not. “You really didn't tell her?” Huck asked, shifting his weight to one side. The twist of his body made his abs pop, pulling me in helplessly. “What, are you ashamed of me?” Grinning, he lifted his hands in mock insult. Laughing, Eliza jabbed him in the knee. “Stop. I just didn't want to go into it.” Her voice lowered, a meaning that went unsaid. Huxton nodded, all humor gone as they communicated with just their eyes. Alright. Now I was suspicious. Chomping so hard that the fruit shot juice into the air, I sat down by the edge of the pool. I had a lot to absorb. I'd thought Eliza had just contacted Huck when Kit had vanished from the radar. Well, now I understood how she knew what he did for a living. His card was vague, she knew the reality. How had they met? Why didn't she want to go into it? Sighing, I turned my apple in my hands, my appetite fading. Plastic crinkled as Eliza shifted on the chair. “Anyway,” she said, “Now that you're awake, I can safely berate you.” Pointing, she wagged a finger. “Why the hell didn't you come back last night, Missy? Poor Huck had to entertain all our friends, and you weren't even here to take part in it.”

Her pretend anger made me smile. Being chastised helped clear the tension. “Sorry, sorry. I got called into work.” Bouncing a pointed look at Huck that said 'do not say a word' I pushed on. “You know how I need the money. I couldn't say no.” “Alright. I guess that's a suitable excuse.” Wriggling her painted toes, she hopped up and headed for the door. “It's actually a little warm. I'll grab us some drinks.” The second she'd shut the glass panel, I whipped my glare to Huck and arched an eyebrow. “Okay, so, when I kept telling you I wouldn't call you, you knew the entire time you'd end up running into me anyway. Didn't you?” In the sun, his teeth glistened like polished ivory. “Pretty much, yeah.” “You're a real piece of work.” “Guilty as charged.” Chuckling, he swayed in my direction. I clutched my apple, feeling it give way under my harsh grip. “I'm sorry I didn't mention that Eliza and I were friends. Guess it never came up naturally.” Peeking at the door, I looked for my roommate. I didn't see her. “I'm more bugged by Eliza not telling me than you. It's a little weird to get a lap-dance from her...” I trailed off. In the time I'd spent spying for her to return, Huxton had closed the gap. His muscled legs were poised within reach. With the sun behind his head, Huck's face was cast in black oblivion. I felt the softness in his words, the way they

rolled over me like velvet. “I'm Eliza's friend. Just her friend.” Had I been so transparent? “I don't care if you're more than that.” Lowering himself, Huxton balanced on his haunches, letting me see his face; that too proud grin. “I think you do care.” My eyes narrowed. I willed my heart to stop trying to climb out of my throat. “Why would I care about that?” He whispered, “Because you don't want to picture me with her. You want to imagine me with you.” His fingers scalded, resting on my cheek. Even though they never moved, I swear, his touch brushed me deep, cradling my core. This man was carnal lust made real. Summoning every bit of strength I had, I looked Huck in the eye. Then, slow and smooth, I rolled my gaze down to the shape of his cock in his swim-shorts. It was easy to see the outline, he had a semi-erection growing. Focus. Fucking focus. Lifting the apple, I waited until I was sure I had his attention. One more look at his bulge, and I bit into the fruit so violently, my teeth clipped together. Grinning smugly, I chewed and swallowed. “No, I don't think I want anything from you.” In front of me, Huck changed. Emerald eyes became stone, his fingers on my face turned to barbed wire.

Before I could do anything, he slid his palm down, over my throat. We both felt my jugular pulsing. “Liar,” he growled. Further he went, stroking a finger into the neck of my shirt, tugging. Under the cloth, my nipples tightened into painful nubs. There was no hiding that, or how I breathed in like Huck was the only source of oxygen. His teeth reminded me of fangs as he smirked. “Oh yes, you're quite the liar, babe. But that's fine. We all lie a little bit.” Standing gracefully, he never took his hot stare off of me. Stroking himself once, he turned away and sat in a chair. Using his arm, he covered the sign of his excitement just as Eliza opened the door. “I hope lemonade is fine,” she said, dancing over, hugging three glasses. “We should go shopping soon, Zoe. We're running low on groceries.” I tore my attention from Huck, shaking myself, trying to remember what I'd been doing. “Huh?” “Lemonade. Shopping.” Blinking, she handed me a glass. It was deliciously cold. I was tempted to pour it over myself, or to jump in the pool. Instead, I looked down at the apple in my other hand. I dared to glance at Huck, not surprised to find him observing me. Tightening my jaw, I threw the core across the yard, letting it skid in the grass. I wasn't hungry for fruit anymore.

- Chapter Five Huxton

Hours. Until the fucking sun rose. That was how long I'd thought about Zoe. I had a million questions. I needed to know more. For each minute we spent together, every answer she offered by mouth or action just raised new ones. Most of all, I wanted to know why she was resisting me. It was resistance. It'll sound awful, but it was new to me. Women phoned me up to service them. I was entertainment, passion, and release. So why was this girl with her sharp words and juxtaposed moans denying me? Zoe wanted me, I knew she did. Had I done something to make her not like me? If anything, I'd stepped in and helped her. What offense had I committed? No. There was more to this story. After fitful hours of sleep, I took a shower, changed, and texted Eliza. It had been a simple message: I want to talk. Are you free? Her answer was just as basic. Come on over, let's catch up, stranger.

My plan was a little sneaky. I knew Zoe lived with Eliza. Driving there, I broke the speed limit and risked getting ticketed by the cops. A stupid move, but my urges controlled my fingers on the throttle. We'd had one hour together before Zoe had interrupted us. During it, Eliza had pursed her lips and rolled her eyes too many times. It was obvious that my probing amused her. “What are you doing?” she'd asked me, “Trying to investigate the poor girl? This isn't like you.” No. It fucking wasn't. “How long have you known her?” Tugging her bikini strap, Eliza shrugged. “A month, give or take. She needed a room, I needed a roommate.” Darting a look at me, she hooded her eyes. “Zoe is a nice girl. Quiet, polite. Watch yourself with her.” I laughed. “What are you worried about?” She didn't budge, ever the concerned mother-figure. “Her boyfriend cheated on her. They split up, it was messy.” Turning towards the house, she studied the siding. “I know the kind of guy you are, Huck. I don't mind it. But I don't want to see her hurt, not after everything.” Ruffling my hair, I followed her eyes. I wished I had X-Ray vision. “If you thought I was such bad news, why call me for the party?” “I needed a stand-in dancer,” she teased. “I wanted to show Zoe a good time, let her shake loose and go a little

wild. She's so buttoned up, like she's wearing this invisible straight-jacket.” That was where Eliza was wrong. I'd seen it behind those blue eyes; Zoe was holding back, but there was a part of her that ran deep with wickedness. I itched to peel back the covers and see what she kept tucked away. But this cleared things up. I knew Zoe had an ex— Reese, she'd said his name was. If he'd cheated on her, that had to be what was making her act so weird with me. Being scared of getting hurt or betrayed, that wasn't complicated. Fixing it was. Eliza poked me, making me turn back to her. “Don't do anything reckless.” “Me?” I grinned. “Reckless?” She jabbed me harder. “You're still escorting, aren't you?” When I nodded, she copied me. “Right. I don't think Zoe would understand that. She's been scorned, messing with a man who fucks for cash would ruin her.” A razor-wire wrapped around my lungs. “Ouch. That's harsh. You're judging me from a pretty tall ivory tower, does that mean you're really out of the business? This house is pretty nice, you must be doing something right.” “I'm judging her, not you.” Waving a hand, she tensed up. Paranoia filled her eyes, fingers tugging that long black hair. “Zoe doesn't know that I used to do that. I plan to keep it that way.”

She dodged my question. Fine. Folding my arms, I bobbed my head. “I won't say anything.” An idea hit me. “Do you know what she does, her job?” Did Eliza know about the fighting ring? A noise came from the house. We both jerked our heads that way. “Zoe is a waitress over at Carl's Roost,” Eliza said. “And speak of the devil, I think she's awake.” That was when Zoe had appeared, managing to look more tempting in her shorts and shirt and over-sized cardigan than Eliza did in her barely-there bikini. Seeing her had brought back the feeling of her arms around me. Her breath in my ear, how her face felt in my hands. I'd touched her intimately and innocently, and I ached to do all of that again and more. I was going to make it happen. Eliza ended up giving us some privacy when she went to fetch the drinks. I'd used that moment to act on my desires. Crouching at Zoe's side, I cupped her chin and professed my thoughts. You want to imagine me with you. She'd bitten her apple violently, pantomimed it being my dick... claiming she didn't want me. I'd called her a liar. With the way she stammered, chest rising and nipples whispering my name, I knew I was right. She did want me. Pain from a bad break up or not, this girl was furious with lust. Maybe, on some level, she really was scared of me.

I'd crack her code and see what rested behind her parted lips. Now, as we all sat sipping our lemonade, I studied her from my chair. My throbbing cock hadn't calmed down. Torturing Zoe was tormenting me. I wasn't free of my need for her, it rose higher with every breath she took. God, I wanted to slide those shorts down her callalily white legs and inhale her sweet heat. I'd felt her with my cock. Now I wanted to feel her with my lips and tongue. Closing my eyes, I listened to the two girls talk. It was innocent chatter, things like errands and who had done what at the party. The conversation was broken when Zoe's phone began ringing in her pocket. She scowled at the screen. Jumping up, she turned away from us and started heading inside. Before she escaped, she answered the number. The acid in her voice was scathing. “What do you want?” Glancing at Eliza, my friend just shrugged. She didn't know what was going on. But, the second Zoe spoke again, I had a very good idea. “What?” she hissed, knees locking up on the top step. If she was a cat, I would have seen her hackles prickling. “Tonight? You're kidding! I was just fucking there last night, I—” Stopping herself, she peered at us, then slipped into the house.

The door slammed so hard, Eliza and I jumped. It was a miracle the glass hadn't shattered. “Wow,” Eliza laughed nervously. “Wonder what that was about.” My smile was subtle. “No idea.” Entirely false. I was sure I did know what it was all about. Last night... I'd been there. I knew why Zoe was pissed. Nehro. He must want her to come back for another match. This was bad news for Zoe. So, don't think I'm cruel or evil. I'm really not. But, honestly, this situation had opened a door for me. Chopped away a steel lock that had kept me from growing closer to this strange, beautiful girl. Zoe was going to be mine... I just needed more time by her side. And now I had a way to get it.

Pushing the glass door aside, I stepped across the floor in my sandals. I still wore just my tight shorts, not bothering to change. Eliza was confident I'd come back outside and tan some more with her. Turning my head, I strained to listen. I was tuned in, seeking out the hushed voice of the woman I was

chasing. Padding quietly through the hall, the brittle edge of her words reached me. “...And it's insane to ask for another so soon!” I wondered if I inhaled, I'd smell her—I was a hunter stalking his prey. Wandering deeper, I heard her speaking through the walls; not far from the room I'd given her a lap-dance in. Leaning near the crack, I peeked inside. She was facing away, sitting lotus-style on her bed. The phone was to her ear, fingers shaking. I waited for the device to shatter. “Nehro, listen to me. I know what my contract says, but I've never been called for a fight this soon after the last. I need time to find a new guy. I—what?” She paused, then lifted her voice. “You're impossible! God, I just...” Clenching my fist at my hip, I listened to the defeat filling her every word. Nehro was upsetting her. How upset would he be with his pasty face crunching under my knuckles? Zoe whispered, “Okay. I'll figure it out. I fucking understand what 'defaulting' means.” Defaulting? On what, the contract? She'd told me she owed Nehro money, but what could he do to collect from her if she didn't fulfill her job? She acted like she was broke, stressed about cash. If she had nothing, it wasn't as if he could rob her. There was nothing to steal. Right?

She hung her head, the phone falling onto the bed. The wave of hunger in me abated, burned to ash at the sight of her sadness. My muscles shifted from wanting to grab her to wanting to comfort her. I didn't know Nehro well, but seeing what he'd done to her... I hated him entirely. “Hey,” I said, stepping into the room. Zoe jerked around, eyes straining at my appearance. Spreading my fingers, I tried to calm her. “What's going on, what happened?” Her surprised hardened into distrust. “Do you normally spy on people?” “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Gently, I closed the door behind me. Zoe stared, watching me like I was trapping her. In a way, I was. Pushing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, she rocked on the mattress, facing me fully. “Everything is fine. You don't need to worry.” “Love, if you think I'd believe everything was fine, you're fooling yourself.” Laughing, she said, “Go fool yourself. Whatever you need to do to leave me alone, do it. You can tell I'm in a bad mood, right? I need to be alone.” Shaking my head, I settled next to her on the bed. Zoe's nostrils flared, stealing the last bit of air in the room that wasn't corrupted by me. “What you need is help.”

“Help,” she said, tasting the word. “That was Nehro, wasn't it?” Zoe looked away, confirming what I already knew. “He wants you to bring someone in for another fight.” Sitting up straight, her neck stiffened. “I was semijoking about the spying thing. You heard everything.” “Enough to put two and two together, and math isn't my strong suit.” I winked, and amazingly, she actually smiled. “Is the next fight really tonight?” Like rain on glass, her smile washed away. “Yes.” “Then it's settled.” “How is it settled, what is settled?” Scratching the side of my nose, I chuckled. “I'll fight for you again. It's simple.” Her red hair was a wave, sliding over her shoulders violently. “No! Huck, no way. I told you, I can't ask for more help. No more favors.” There was a hand's width between us on the bed. Carefully, I pushed my bare thigh against her knee, enjoying how she startled. “Babe, I'm going to help you. You'll just have to accept that.” She locked onto my leg, not looking at my face. “Fuck, you're so stubborn. I'm not owing you for your good graces. I'd have to pay you. For real, this time.” Arching down, I let my skull fill with the foggy cloud that Zoe brought. Being this close to her, our heads almost touching, I wanted to erase the distance and

wrap my hands in her hair. I wanted to lick her throat, to inhale my way down to her sweet pussy. She was so stressed about money last night. My lashes fluttered, seduction thickening my words. “You can pay me if you want... but it doesn't need to be in cash.” Zoe almost headbutted my nose with how fast she whipped her eyes up to me. The wild blue color threatened to boil me alive. “No. I will never, ever use my body like that.” She bit off each word, spit it in my face. “I am not a fucking whore, Huxton.” The energy crackled between us. However, I didn't burn with shame. I knew she wanted me to, but too bad. Zoe had pride; so did I. And I loved how I made my living. “What's wrong with being a whore?” I purred, inching my knee harder against hers. Zoe grimaced, retreating. I followed, keeping our bodies touching. “Since when is sex so awful? And if you're good at it, why not get paid for it?” Blinking, her cheeks the color of roses, Zoe struggled to win the staring contest. “For one, you don't know if I'm good at it.” That was funny, she thought I'd been talking about her. Fine. I liked this topic. “I'd wager you are.” My grin was a half-moon. “Want to test my theory?” Her throat fluttered. “No.”

“Again, you're such a liar.” Chuckling, I reached out, curling my fingers in her hair. I'd thought I could hold back, but I was wrong. Talking about fucking was sending me on a spiral. “How about it? I'll be your champion, Zoe.” Nuzzling her ear, I thrilled at her helpless moan. “I'll fight every man, any man. You just have to ask me.” Gently, she put her hands on my bare back. We shared a strained breath. “It's not just asking. You want me to fuck you in exchange for your help.” Stroking down her neck, I listened to her whimper. Lord, she was killing me. “What's so upsetting? Don't you want to fuck me?” Zoe hesitated. She clung to my shoulder blades, stuck between holding on tighter or letting go. “I'll never pay for things with my body.” “You didn't answer me, do you want to fuck me?” “No, not like this.” Leaning away, I looked from her cherry-lips to her flushed face. I ate up the vision of her nipples cutting through her shirt. “Again, always lying.” Some of her ferociousness returned, lips curling back. “I'm not lying. I don't want you, not even a little bit.” “Then why were you grinding against me so eagerly yesterday?” I asked, shoving her up the bed, pushing myself between her legs. We both wore shorts, our skin chafing with my movements. “Why were you pouting

when I said you couldn't touch me?” A single thrust, I imitated the filthy motion of fucking. Zoe's moan echoed around us. Watching her, I froze up. Her wanton need had shocked us both. She bit her lip, then clenched her jaw. When she saw my wide smirk, she tensed harder. I said gently, “We should make a few things clear.” Zoe dared me with her silence. My cock was stiff, filling my shorts to the point of discomfort. God, this woman, she got me going. “Zoe, how badly do you want my help?” Laughing with a cynical bite, she let her hands fall from my body. “I need it, I don't want it. Aren't you the one who wanted to help me?” My gaze trailed over her lips, enjoying every curve. “I did. And I do. You're the one messing it up by making it complicated.” Wrinkling her forehead, Zoe slumped back. “You don't understand how hard this is for me.” Grinning, I rubbed my rigid shaft over her shorts. “Believe me, beautiful. I know what hard is.” Each time she blushed, it felt like a win. “Huck, I don't want to owe you anything. But I'll pay you. With money.” Her smile was coy. “Not my body. Never my body.” I was disappointed, but most of it came from a deeper place. I'd finally stopped to consider her issue.

Distaste slid over my tongue. “You really don't like whores, huh?” Zoe tucked her chin, clearly confused. “I just don't want to be one. Sex for money—that isn't me.” No, I mused bitterly. It's me. Eliza had been right. This girl wasn't ready for who I was. Huxton the piece of meat, the man who lusted and craved each and every cunt across the globe. I still wanted her... but my mood was tainted by her judgment. “Fine, you can pay me.” Leaning away, I fixed my erection as covertly as possible. She still saw, still gazed with those frustratingly eager eyes and parted lips. I wanted to feel her sucking me, not sucking her teeth in doubt. “How much?” she asked. Turning away, I willed my blood to cool. “How many fights will there be?” She sighed and said, “I don't know. It used to be around two, three a month... Nehro asking for another the next day is weird. But I can't say no.” My anger fled in the wake of her distress. Zoe sat up, hugging herself and folding over. I was tempted to reach down and embrace her. Instead I just cracked my knuckles. “You decide what to pay me,” I mumbled. “Whatever you can manage is alright.” Wide-eyed, she gawked at me. Hope—a hope I hadn't seen on her before—glowed. “Really? You're serious?”

Chuckling, I smoothed my hair a few times. I was fidgeting, letting the arousal she'd poisoned me with fade. “Suddenly you're so willing to bargain. Yes, anything.” “Even if it's just twenty bucks a pop?” I arched an eyebrow. “That little?” I got paid hundreds to wrestle with women in the comfort of their own beds. Twenty bucks to risk a busted jaw was insulting. But that flicker of defeat... it had returned, stealing her energy with my stupid fucking comment. Before she could speak again, I put my hand on her shoulder. “It's enough. I promise.” Zoe flinched when I said 'promise.' Again, I thought about how irrational I was acting. I had no reason to help this girl. She'd offered me nothing but attitude and blue-balls. Some insane part of me was drawn to her. She had a strength and clearly her own demons. Eliza thought she was fragile, up-tight. I thought she was a thunderstorm meant to be set free. If I sat back, maybe I could see the edges of what pulled me so deep. Here was someone clearly suffering. She'd been dealt a cruel hand, and she still didn't want to tell me what game of cards she was even playing. Why did she owe Nehro money... and how much was it?

Though I wanted to know, I wouldn't press. Not yet. Not now. I knew what it was like to have nothing... to be in trouble. No one had helped me. I'd always had to save myself. I took what I wanted from the world. I was fine with fighting because it was what I knew. It was familiar. And here was this crazy woman, battling me tooth and nail when all I offered was help. For no fucking good reason I was ready to bust myself up for her. And the odd thing was... Nothing had ever felt so right.

- Chapter Six Zoe

He'd done it again—I'd done it again. Against all odds, he'd gotten alone with me, this time in my own bed, and had me inches away from fucking him. From feeling that tauntingly perfect cock not just on my cunt but inside of it. God fucking dammit. Could humans go into heat? Was that it? But there was another issue here. One beyond my off-the-wall hormones. Huck had said he'd help me. He'd poked his nose into my business, but ultimately said he would help me. And I believed him. That was the craziest part. I didn't want to get ahead of myself, because fuck, I'd been here before, but... it felt like he was serious. Twenty bucks a fight was petty cash. I'd give him more, but I couldn't. The funds from the fights were in Nehro's hands. Huck would have to take it up with him if he wanted any of it. But... maybe he should. It was only right. Just because Reese had let me put all of it towards my debt, didn't meant Huck had to. I just wanted it to be over. The longer I was forced to attend the Dog House,

the more risk I inherited. Each fight that rose up was a chance for me to fuck up, default, and let Nehro take what was left from my flesh. Ten more years of this—and that was if things went smooth. Nothing ever went smooth for me. There was a good chance that once Huck got hurt, he'd come to his senses and walk away. Don't get too attached. People break promises. Hope was a liability. Standing by my door, he leaned on the wall in his dark swim-shorts. If I'd been an artist, I would have asked if I could draw him. I figured it was only his ink that kept him from traditional modeling. Screw those people, though. Huxton was meant to be seen. Though, if I listened to my gut when we'd been by the pool, I didn't want anyone to see him but me. It had soothed me, learning Eliza was just his friend. I didn't feel great about my envy, and less great about my contentment. Grabbing my phone, I checked the time. “It's only one-thirty. The match won't be until nine.” “What do we do until then?” I blinked. “Huh?” Laughing, he hooked his thumbs in his shorts. “I know how to fill seven hours. Do you?” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Is sex all you think about?”

“Around certain people, yes.” Fuck. My heart was too big for my chest. Sliding off the bed, I considered how close he was to my door. Moving around him would bring us within inches. “Eliza wanted to do some shopping. I'll take care of that. Meanwhile, I guess you should prepare.” Huck cocked his head, some odd mix of bird and mythical beast. Wasn't there an Egyptian god like that? I couldn't recall the name, he was stealing my thoughts. “Prepare in what way?” “I know you won last night, but you weren't ready. I don't want you getting hurt.” He showed me his teeth and said, “I like when you worry about me.” Stumbling on my tongue, I puffed out air. “I'm not— that's—you...” He just stood taller, pleased by my reaction. Palming my forehead, then tugging my hair, I sighed. “Huck, look. Okay. Yeah, I don't want you to get injured. I'm not that terrible of a person.” I'm pretty awful, I reminded myself. “I'm just flattered. Let me be flattered, love. It feels good. Nice and warm.” Caressing his own stomach, he hovered over the muscular V that led between his strong thighs. No question, he knew what he was doing to me. Inhaling till my ribs creaked, I shoved around him. I didn't breathe, I couldn't. The fear that a single whiff of

his musk and leather would melt my resolve kept me moving through the house. He's going to destroy me. I had to remind myself why I was holding back. Fighting Huxton took everything I had. I filled my mind with images; That awful phone call, Reese's panicked voice. Coaxing me into meeting Nehro. Promising me everything would be fine. Him, sweaty and panting on the girl in his bed—our bed. Those teeth in a snarl, hand held high as he threatened me. Cold words that demanded I owed him everything. Oxygen rushed into my lungs when I pushed outside into the sun. Eliza blinked, sitting up, reading my pale face. “Zoe? What happened?” “Nothing. Work called, I have to go in tonight.” “Oh, yuck.” She made a face. “Is that why you're so... you look a little off.” “Just weak from hunger.” Forcing a smile, I motioned behind me. “Speaking of which; shopping, groceries, wanna go?” Wrapping her long hair up off her neck, she frowned. “What about Huck?” I shrugged violently. “He left.” Eliza looked over my head, lifting her eyebrows.

Twisting, I glared at Huck. Of course he'd followed me. “I meant he's leaving.” “What? No, let him come with us. Errands are so boring.” Pushing out of her seat, she arched her back and yawned. “I'll drive, seems like I'm the only one who owns a car these days.” Huck smiled, watching me curiously. “I'd love to come.” “Of course you would,” I mumbled. Leaning close, he whispered in my ear, “As if you're different.” Shit, my blush went all the way to my scalp. He wasn't wrong. No matter what I'd done in the privacy of my own bedroom last night, my heat wasn't sated. Not with him so close to me, teasing and taunting and getting me high on lust. Huxton Blake was one hell of a dangerous addiction. Too bad I was growing to love it.

The ride was extremely fucking uncomfortable. Huxton sat in the front seat, chatting with Eliza, or just listening as she rambled on. I listened, too; the back and forth was exposing some of their history. But through it all, Huck was messing with me.

Between the seat and the door, he'd reach back, stroking my knee. When I'd slide my leg away, he'd watch me in the side-mirror, grin, and wait until I let my guard down to do it again. Bastard. “...Was so hot that day,” Eliza laughed, leading us down the freeway. “Remember, Huck? We'd bought these ice pops for the beach, but by the time we got there and parked, they'd all melted!” “I remember,” he sighed. “I also remember how angry your—” He stopped himself, rethinking what he'd been about to say. “How angry your friend was that you'd stained the backseat of his car you were borrowing.” My roommate eyed me in the mirror, smile flickering. “Uh, right. Well it wasn't like I did it on purpose.” Huck snorted. “You made him pay to clean it.” “He still let me borrow his new one months later, too.” Grinning so wide her eyes crinkled on the corners, Eliza turned into a parking lot of the nearby grocery store. I wondered which friend would be foolish enough to not only pay for the damage, but loan another car out. Maybe 'friend' had meant boyfriend. That would be a little understandable. “Alright kids, let's get this over with.” Eliza hopped out, adjusting her sunglasses and the dress she'd thrown

on. She was the epitome of Californian. Huck looked like he'd stepped off the pages of a motorcycle magazine. He'd replaced his swim-trunks with rich, midnight jeans and a tight tank-top. The leather jacket that I'd appreciated last night now looked too warm on him. I wondered if he was from here, like me. A guy like him was just... out of place. A constant outlaw. He caught me looking. Without turning his head, giving me a delicious view of his strong profile, he just smiled. The hard nob of his Adam's apple rippled. Impossibly, I swear his green eyes were looking through me. Terrified of what he'd find, I spun so fast I was disoriented. Tagging after Eliza, I listened to Huck's boots crunching over the pavement. Everything he did had a gritty feel, shadow and fire and smoke. Cologne companies would make millions if they could bottle his essence. “Okay,” Eliza chirped, shoving a cart through the automatic doors. In true LA spirit, even with the Christmas trees littered outside, the building was airconditioned. “We need a lot of stuff. Let's make this efficient.” Nodding, I zipped my jacket tighter. At least I'd changed into jeans. I hated the cold, and the store was chilly. “I can take half the list, hand it over.” Eliza was

one of the few people I knew who actually made lists, and didn't just shop based on her mood or appetite. I appreciated her organizational skills. She passed a sheet of yellow paper to me, saying, “Okay, sounds good. Huck, you can come with me.” A massive wave of relief went down to my toes. Huck didn't react, he just tossed me one quick look, then followed after Eliza down the aisle. I could hear her voice, cheerful and bright, all the way until they vanished behind the boxes of cereal. Fanning myself with the paper, I grabbed a cart and pushed it along. Here was respite, here was a break from the black hole that was Huxton. His existence tugged at me, whispering for me to come closer; promising excitement, throaty moans, and so much more. It would be fun, at first, I told myself, strolling past the vegetables. He's sexy, no denying that. The way he talks, how he says things... it ties me up inside. Sighing, I grabbed a bag of salad and tossed it in the cart. He'll break me as easily as these tomatoes. Huck will take what he wants from me. Then he'll leave me behind. Would he, though? Increasingly—temptingly—he was making me question my vow. Were guys like him that thrilled me guaranteed to always wreck me? All of them have. Remember that. Pushing a cool bag of broccoli to my forehead, I ignored the stares of other shoppers. I hated the cold, but

right then, I needed something refreshing on my warm skin. Imagining him standing in my bedroom, his hands brushing my cheeks—then lower, I laughed at myself. I need a sponsor. Someone I can call and say, 'Help! I want to fuck another bad boy! Save me!' There was someone getting paid for everything out here. Surely, a cock-blocker on demand existed. Muscle for hire. I needed anti-muscle for hire. Finishing the list Eliza had given me, I was almost done. There was one last item I needed to grab. It was for me, not something Eliza had asked for or required. In the quiet aisle, I scanned the rows of colorful candy. Thumbing the items, I found what I was after. Beaming, I hefted the little bag of hazelnut truffles, jiggling them by my ear. Yes, this would do perfectly. “You have a sweet tooth?” My spine became a lightning rod, hit by the pure energy that was Huck's voice. Turning, I found him hovering just a foot away. I hadn't heard him approaching. My stripper-fighter was also a ninja, apparently. “W —what are you doing here?” I asked, glancing side to side. “Where's Eliza?” Pointing, he indicated the other cart of groceries nearby. “She ran to use the restroom, told me to come find you and meet her upfront.”

Breathing through pursed lips, I nodded and said, “Okay. Well, then...” His eyes went back to the candy I held. Anxiously, I set it in the top basket. “What's wrong? Am I not allowed to buy candy?” One step, and he was towering over me. “It's not that. I was just making sure I remembered the brand you liked.” Tiny sparks went off in my head. “Why?” “To buy you some, obviously.” I didn't know what to do with my hands anymore. Grabbing the cart, I let it go, then grabbed it again. “That's nice, but... I'm actually allergic to hazelnuts.” His eyes narrowed. “Then why buy those truffles?” Fuck, I should have just lied. “Forget about it. You don't need to know why I do everything, Huck.” In that tight aisle with no one around, he bent close to me. So close I backed up, plastic rattling. Bags of candy shifted, jostled by the pressure of my spine. I should have smelled sugar everywhere. Huck overpowered it all. Half-closing his eyes, he reached for my cheek— stopped the last second. “Need is a funny word. Zoe, I want to know why you do everything. I want to know what drives you, what goes on in that lovely head of yours.” Those strong fingers finally came down, resting on the space between my neck and shoulder. I jumped so violently that a candy bar toppled free, sliding across the

floor. How could he do this to me? Saying things like that, acting so invested... it was fucking with my head. With my poor, tired heart. “Huck,” I whispered. Only air came out, so I began again. “Huck, listen. You're wasting your time with me.” “I can't imagine anytime with you would be wasted, babe.” Blush was my new favorite color, apparently. “Why are you doing this?” His voice rolled, liquid silk. “Isn't it obvious? You excite me, Zoe.” I excite HIM? Huck is the one wrapping me up in HIS energy. I'm innocent, I'm not doing anything to excite him! Prickles ran down my veins. I silenced my internal thoughts, distracted by the warmth of his palm gliding over my skin. “You literally just met me yesterday.” “All the more reason to want to get to know you,” he chuckled. “Believe me, there's nothing about me that you want to know.” Lowering his head, his eyes were cast in shadows. “Let me be the judge of that. Any woman who can get my blood pumping like you is worth learning about.” Moisture left my mouth. This was too much. There was a thread forming between us, tying us closer and strangling the part of me that was scared of what Huck

might do. Another trouble-maker meant to leave scars in my life. Another person to betray me and leave me shredded. But then... if I was so used to it, why did it matter? My future, my present, it was all on the precipice of falling apart. One more wound in the heart of a corpse would do very little. Closing my eyes, I let myself sink into the caress of his hand. It was as if he was touching each individual freckle, creating a galaxy on my flesh. I wanted him to discover all of my constellations. Part of me... part of me wanted him to learn how right I was. That my expectation of him chucking me aside would be made real. I was Zoe Lillith, and I was not worth knowing. I was worth forgetting. Let him learn, I told myself. Temptation made giving in so easy. I could justify all of it. With him blowing air on my skin, whispering in my ear, I could do it. I could shrug off responsibility and let him be the one who felt the burden. I could say, I told you so. What a bitter satisfaction that would bring. Opening my eyes, I stared at Huck and imagined him seeing me for what I was. If he learned all my flaws, would he still smile so much, would he still want me? Was he strong enough?

Was anyone? The person I'd been wasn't worth loving. The many damaged men who had promised me sweet things while they took what they wanted from me had shown me that. What I needed wasn't pretty words, it was someone to help me. Help me for real. And it wasn't going to be him, no matter what he promised. But giving in... god, it would feel so fucking good. Maybe... just for a little bit... Another bag of candy fell, jolting me from my reverie. Looking down, I spotted the truffles in my cart. They were as good as a punch to my gut. What am I doing? Shaking my head, I gently pushed Huck away. He resisted, challenging me... but finally, he stepped back. “What did I do?” he asked. You didn't do anything. Not yet. You're paying for the mistakes of everyone before you. My mistakes, too. The smile was hard to force. “Nothing. It's fine, I just think we should head upfront before Eliza wonders where we are.” “We could let her wonder,” he teased. I'd love that so much. I didn't dare speak the words. Making my attraction real was a spell waiting to petrify me. I pushed my cart down the aisle. My speed was fast, I didn't slow down; didn't risk looking back. Huxton was

too good at breaking down my walls. When I had space, I could rebuild them. But if what had happened back there was any measure, I was growing weaker by the minute. By the fucking second. Spending more time with this man was the worst thing I could do. But right then? Time spent with Huxton Blake was my only hope.

- Chapter Seven Huxton

The sun crumbled and fell. It weighed too much, my mind alone couldn't will it to stay high in the sky. I wanted to guarantee that I could sit here for hours, enjoying the laughter and warmth of a dinner with friends. It was so... normal. I didn't remember the last time I'd done something like this. Eliza had cooked us food, plied me with beer and funny stories. Of course, my attention—even when I wasn't looking —was forever on Zoe. She fidgeted with her meal, sometimes meeting my stare before skittering away to look down at her plate. I was trying to make sense of her. It was proving difficult. In the store, I'd come close to kissing her with the smell of chocolate and candy-canes surrounding us. It would have been easy, she'd given all the right signs. All the way up until she'd opened her eyes and looked at those truffles... Then it was done. Zoe had closed off to me.

If she was trying to manipulate me into wanting her, she was doing a fucking good job. She'd become this ethereal creature, a wish just out of my reach. I'd never had to be so patient before. She was testing my limits. The sensual woman who had peeked through at her party was in there somewhere. The distrust coating her surface was confusing, but it was just that; a coating. The real Zoe—the Zoe that had grabbed my back and rolled her curves against my hips—she wasn't afraid of me. She wanted me. And I wanted her. Once I figured out what was pressing between us, what her castle walls were made of, I would crush them to dust and look at the wild, wicked girl behind those crystal eyes. Eliza said something, I caught the end of it. I'd been drifting in my head. “...still free. Okay?” She was staring at me, so was Zoe. I sat up and winced. “Sorry, what?” Rolling her eyes, Eliza waved her glass of wine at me threateningly. “I said, we can watch a movie if you want. Zoe has to leave in a few minutes, but I'm still free.” Zoe wasn't great about hiding her flash of nerves. Did she think I was going to abandon her for a movie? “Actually,” I sighed. “I kind of have to go. I've got work tonight, too.”

Crinkling her nose, Eliza scrutinized me. “Huh. I didn't realize. Fine, fine. I'll just enjoy a night alone, there's worse things.” Wiping my hands on a napkin, I pushed my chair back. “I'll come by again soon, it's fine. Thanks for hanging out with me all day, Eliza.” Beaming, she rushed to give me a fierce hug. “It's great to get back together like this. Call me anytime.” Sliding my jacket on, I half-turned, catching Zoe's tiny smile. She had to think my ploy was hilarious. I wasn't really leaving, and she understood that; it was our little secret. “Handshake or a hug?” I asked. “A hug,” she chuckled. “Handshakes are so impersonal.” “True. We've gone far beyond personal, haven't we?” Grinning, I pulled Zoe in for a quick, but firm hug. She was too baffled to react. Holding her close, I bent to her shell of an ear and whispered, “Meet you at the end of the street.” With that, I said a few more 'goodbyes' and hurried out the door. It was dark, inky-blue punctuated by the twinkling holiday lights on most of the houses. It really was a nice area. Humming softly, I drove my bike around the corner. In the shade of a dark building, one less joyful than Eliza's, I parked my Harley and waited. Thinking about the coming fight, my blood started to ripple. I didn't know who it would be against, and I

assumed Zoe didn't know either—or didn't have the time to tell me, yet. It didn't matter. I was excited. It'd been some time since I'd been thrown into such violence. Shrapnel had gone down quick last night, but the waves of destruction coming off of him had been intoxicating. Vibrations coursed through my upper thigh. Digging my cellphone out, I was ready to see a message from Zoe, perhaps telling me she was on her way. In the black air, my screen glowed like a diamond. Kaley: Huck, I need a house call. I've got a problem, it requires a big man to fix it. How soon can you come over? -Your Favorite Dish Shit. Kaley. Long legs, a body that could chew you up and spit you out... Kaley was beautiful. She also had a preference for rough hands and stamina. I owned both, and proudly. It helped that she tipped better than any of my other clients. Lifting my eyes, dots of light spun as I adjusted back to the darkness. Searching down the road, I watched for Zoe. She still hadn't appeared. What was she doing? What was I doing? I loved fighting, that was a fact. In the past, it had been a great way to make money. But now... Zoe's twenty bucks wouldn't stretch far.

When I'd been younger, fighting on the streets had been common. People wanted to take what you had. If you weren't willing to shove back, you were a goner. Naturally, I found myself getting sucked into the sordid world of underground combat. I'd told Zoe the truth; last night wasn't my first fight. By age sixteen, I'd made a name for myself. People saw what I could do with my fists. Each new tattoo I added crafted an image that was raw. Tough. Not to be messed with. New job opportunities blossomed before me. Guarding my first hooker was simple, uneventful. She'd been the on again, off again girlfriend of a fellow fighter. With time, I made more acquaintances. Fun women, perverse hobbies, they tempted me with it all. I fell into strip clubs and private parties. It had been a blinding rush of drugs and money and fun. Things didn't change much until the night I played muscle for a high-end escort. She'd been beautiful, other-worldly. Once her client had left, she'd pulled me into the motel room, whispering to me that she needed someone to finish her off. I'd been surprised... But more than keen to help. From there, the word spread. Women called me for reasons beyond protecting them. My body was sought

for pleasure, and I was ready to indulge. Fighting was great, fucking was better. Throw all the money I could need into the mix? I was in heaven. Lifting my phone, I stared at the text message again. Kaley would slide me a cool six hundred for an hour or so of my time. I usually gave extra, stretching the minutes out. It was nice to hear a woman telling me I was too much. Any form of begging turned me on. It was a fun cycle. Her, claiming she couldn't handle more. Me, getting rock-hard at her whimpers and pleas. Both of us always left happy. I had a reputation to keep. Sighing, I scrunched my eyes shut. I promised Zoe already. It wasn't about the money. It was about my word. With regret, I tapped the keys and stared at my message. Huck: Sorry doll, but I'm booked for the night. We'll get in touch soon. Not wanting to see her response, I hit send and clicked the phone off, shoving it back in my jacket. My ears caught the scratch of footsteps on dirt. Looking up, I spotted Zoe. In her green jacket, she jogged my way. The night stole the color from her eyes, but it deposited crimson in her cheeks. She was a woman on fire, that long hair streaming behind like a comet's trail.

My fingers cramped, eager to open up and embrace her. Falling stars aren't meant to be held, though. As she slowed beside me, clouds dancing around her perfect lips... she dared me to try. Dared me to cradle her combustible existence. Zoe held the power to burn me into ashes. All I had to do was touch her. A death like this? It would be fucking worth it. “Sorry,” she said, catching her breath. “I hope you didn't wait long for me.” “Not too long.” My smile went ear to ear. “Only an eternity.” She'd been reaching for the back of my bike. Now, she pulled her arm away, a creature of doubt and suspicion. “Why would you say something like that?” Guilt drove down into my guts. It was a tiny splinter, but sharp as a nail. Why had I said that? To get a rise out of her. Was that the real reason? She certainly thought so. I couldn't be sure, and dwelling on it was making me uncomfortable. “Easy now,” I mumbled. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.” Weaving her fingers through her hair, Zoe offered me a tiny smile. “It's alright. I'm just a little tense. I really wish you'd gone and practiced today. I don't even know who you're up against tonight.”

Waving her onto the bike, I kicked it into gear. “I'll be fine. I'm actually excited.” “You are?” “Sure, it's been some time since I've had an excuse to shake the rust off of these muscles.” Adjusting behind me, her jean-clad legs rubbed along my hips. “Not much call for combat when you strip your clothes off, huh?” I chuckled and said, “The opposite. I fight off the hands of too-eager women all the damn time.” Zoe laughed, and fuck, I ached to hear that sound forever. Guiding us down the road, I took my time. I wanted to speak before the engine drowned us both out. “You seem happier tonight. I like that.” I was ready for her to loosen her grip. Amazingly, she pressed her chest on me and didn't run. She mumbled, “For some reason, I feel... optimistic.” Twisting, I tried to stare at her. I could see nothing but her red hair. “Optimistic?” “Yeah.” Zoe's long, silky strands slid over my shoulder and rustled my cheek. “I don't know. For once, going to the fights tonight, things feel like they might be okay.” Her voice flitted, drifting in the wind and fading with my growing speed. “I'm probably just crazy.” Crazy. Yes. I could relate.

The alley was silent. The basement was not. Together, Zoe and I descended into the sweltering madness that was the underground fighting ring. “Does this place have a name?” I asked, eyeing the cracked, grey walls and faded paint dubiously. “The Dog House,” Zoe said, not looking at me. “Wonderful.” I grinned full force. “Does that make me your dog?” She didn't respond, reaching out to stop me when we were halfway down the steps. I pulled back, watching her while she scanned the crowd. “What's up?” Those pretty pink lips scrunched together, copying her eyebrows. Finally, she let her hand fall away. “It's nothing. I was just looking for someone.” Gently, I asked, “Was it Nehro?” Taking me by the wrist, she pulled me towards the whiteboard across the room. “Yes and no. I always look for him, but right now I'm watching for Reese—my ex.” She added the last part as an uncomfortable afterthought. Tension ruled her eyes. “I don't know if he'll be here tonight. I'm hoping he won't.”

Battery acid filled my mouth. Even now, the shit-bag who had cheated on her was making her fret. I was burning with disgust. Scanning the board, the sourness on my tongue grew sharper. Reaching out, I tapped my finger next to Reese's name. “Looks like he already fought. Half an hour ago, if this is right.” “Whatever,” she grumbled. “Good. Fine. Guess he decided he was going to get back in the ring, just not for me. He can keep all the money for himself. I don't care what he does anymore. I don't need him.” Gingerly, I set my hand on her shoulder. Zoe was shaking, the tremors making her eyelashes twitch. “You're right,” I said flatly. “You don't need him anymore. I'm here.” I could see myself in her blue eyes, that was how wide they grew. “You're really sure that twenty bucks is fine?” “It's more than enough.” Though, I admit, I was curious what she meant about Reese taking all the money now. “When he fought for you, he really got paid nothing? None of your payment to Nehro?” Zoe sighed and said, “It was his idea. I wanted to give him some of it, he told me he was willing to make the sacrifice. I was grateful, really... it let me pay Nehro off faster.” So many questions bubbled. “You've got me curious. How much are you making per fight, and how much do

you owe that Nehro guy?” Pointedly, she slid my hand off of her. “I don't want to tell you about my debt. It's personal stuff.” Shrugging, I allowed myself to smile, even if it was forced. “All these secrets. You do know I'm here because I want to help you, right?” I expected her to tighten up, to get flustered or bite at me with her words. In front of me, Zoe hung her head. I could never predict this fucking girl. “A thousand dollars,” she whispered. “What?” “That's how much Nehro takes off my debt after each fight.” Digging her toe into the ground, she watched me from under the fringe of her lashes. “Now you know. I suppose you'll want some of it after all, right? I can tell Nehro. He'll probably—” My hand went up, silencing her. “No. Keep it. Twenty bucks, like I said.” If Zoe was chunking her debt down a thousand at a time, how much could she possibly owe this man? And what was it for? I didn't have the heart or the time to push her. Especially not when she was gracing me with a full on, lip-spread grin. Zoe was gorgeous, but when she was happy, she practically glowed. “Thank you, Huxton. I really mean it.” There was no denying it. Zoe was grateful for my help.

Grateful for me. Blinking, I looked back at the board. “Does the other guy's name being scratched out mean Reese won?” Zoe stood tall, grabbing a marker and scribbling my name on the shiny surface. I was across from some guy who went by 'Magnus.' “A name being scratched out means the other guy won, yeah.” She re-capped the marker violently. “Let's forget about Reese. The fighter you're up against is a small guy, I think you can take him.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I chuckled. Her lips tilted up at an angle. “I'm pretty confident in you, Huck.” “Only 'pretty' confident?” “If you looked more like a fighter, I'd be very confident.” Brushing her hair back, she motioned over my outfit, my clear lack of gear. Gripping my jacket zipper, I ground it downwards, handing the leather piece to Zoe. She took it, and unless I was wrong, she hugged it tight—gorged on the air around it. “Shirtless and jeans worked fine last night, didn't it?” She rolled her eyes, went to speak... then trailed off. Her luminescent skin became old milk, even her lips faded in color. Peering over my shoulder, I watched as two men approached. One of them I knew; Nehro was easy to recognize. I'd never met such an angular man before. He

was lanky, but under the long, black latex trench-coat and mesh shirt, I could see the practiced ripple of lean muscle. Nehro wasn't a weak man. But the other guy, the one with the biggest, shiteating grin I'd ever seen... he was huge. Toe to toe, I thought he'd have a fraction over me. Not much, but I was used to being the tallest man in the room. I didn't know who he was. Zoe clearly did. Glancing back to her, I noticed her digging her nails into my jacket. She didn't like this guy, and my intuition buzzed to life. “Reese,” she said, confirming my suspicion. This was her ex. Wonderful. Tugging at his shirt, Reese eyed me up and down. “You must be Huxton, Zoe's new dog.” I emulated how Reese had looked me over, exaggerating the motion; I'd already sized him up seconds ago. “Guess that makes you the one that ran with its tail between its legs, then.” Black fury stretched over Reese's face. I reveled in it. “Easy now,” Nehro said, stepping between us. His oily squint shifted from me to Reese, then to Zoe. “I see you convinced our friend here to come back for round two.” I cleared my throat. “I insisted. I just had so much fun last night.” Smiling ear to ear, I winked at Zoe.

Amazingly, she smiled back at me. I loved when she did that. “Yeah. Huxton wanted to come back. I couldn't say no to him.” Oh, how I wished that part was true. Zoe kept saying 'no' to me at every turn. Well, her voice did, the rest of her... Stay focused, I reminded myself. Tilting his head, Reese snorted. “So you like to fight?” “Sure do.” Shrugging, he spoke while turning away. “Every newbie does, at the start. See how you feel after a few rounds of this.” “Thanks for the advice, Pops,” I chirped. “Any more tips?” With his jaw tighter than a lock and key, Reese glared from me to Zoe. “Yeah. Here's one more. Consider how much your time is worth.” Next to me, Zoe hissed under her breath. Acid ruled her stare, she watched Reese all the way until he slipped out of view in the crowd. Giving in to my desire, I brushed my hand over hers. Then, I stared warily at Nehro. “Why are you still here, need something?” Impervious to my scathing tone, he just chuckled. “I do. From you, as a matter of fact.” Motioning with his head to his office, he started walking. “You want to fight here, fine. Let's get the basics out of the way. Come with me.”

Peeking back at Zoe, I waited for her to nod. That time... her smile didn't reach her eyes. “It's nothing bad,” she assured me. “Nehro runs the Dog House, go listen to him. It's just rules and junk.” I nodded and said, “Alright. I'll be back.” Nehro led us to his door, and I saw that the nicest thing about this basement was his name on the glass. In long, jagged strokes, the letters stood out crisply, like they would on a movie star's door. Or a lawyer's, I thought, remembering Zoe's contract. Was I about to sign one, too? The idea made me grit my molars. “I won't keep you long,” he said, shuffling in the bottom drawer of a small, metal desk. “Your fight starts in five minutes. I'll go quick.” “Quick?” I asked, stepping closer to where he was hunched. “As in speaking quickly?” He tossed me a smug look, then faced away. “This place is mine. I own all of it.” I said humorlessly, “Congratulations on owning a room where guys can kill each other for cash.” “Not kill each other. Not normally, anyway.” He shoved some papers aside. “There are rules in the Dog House, Huxton. Not many, but we have them. Be on time, don't miss a fight, don't back down from a fight... and no weapons.”

Running my fingers through my scalp, I sighed. “Everything else goes, though?” “Everything else goes. Whatever it takes to be the last man standing. There's no rounds, it goes until one guy can't fight or taps out.” Nehro straightened, offering me a pair of fingerless, slightly padded blue gloves. “Here, these will keep you from busting your hands up too badly. Don't want you getting so injured you can't keep fighting for our dear Zoe Lillith out there.” Lillith. So that's her last name. It was pretty, and it fit her. I loathed that Nehro had been the one to reveal it to me. Taking the gloves, I hefted them; they were good quality. “Why do you care if I get hurt or not?” “More fights means more money for me.” Glancing up, he eyed the clock. “And for you. Come on, let's hurry up.” Nehro slid around me, waving me back out into the basement. “Wait,” I said, following after him. “Money for me? What are you talking about?” The bell dinged, the hush of the crowd growing into eager cheers. Nehro pointed at my gloves; I got the hint, starting to strap them on. In the ring, I saw the guy who had to be Magnus. He was lean, definitely smaller than me. Blonde as lemonade and bare of almost any ink. Zoe's confidence that I'd win made a lot of sense, now.

Struggling through the bodies, I perched on the chalk outline with Nehro at my side. He was speaking, but the screams were making it hard to hear. “Money, as in what you get as a reward,” he said in my ear. “I know what money is!” “Then you know you want it. And I pay well for these fights. I have to,” he added, smiling crookedly. “No one would bother, otherwise.” In my mind, Zoe's face flashed. I looked for her across the way, trying to spot her among the flailing bodies. “What about Reese?” I asked, tightening the last strap on my gloves. “He fought for Zoe and didn't take a cent. Same as I plan to.” Nehro stepped back, his brows smoothing into a placid stare. “If you thought he wasn't skimming off the top, you're wrong. He always claimed half.” Laughing, the lanky man spun away, heading for the edge of the ring. His last words threaded to me, somehow avoiding every bark or shout. “Take your cut of the grand. Risking your life for free... No one does that.” Drums filled my skull. Everything was muffled, noise swirling until it was just a singular, ringing bell. Reese was taking a cut of the pay. Half of Zoe's money. Even from a distance, I swear, Nehro was grinning at me—and only me. “Magnus versus Huxton! Betting is closed, folks. Standard rules, no weapons, and no mercy.”

No mercy. Ding. The bell was louder than the one commanding my mind. It sank in, pulled me forward. Back into reality, back to where I was. Back to who I was. Nehro thought no one risked their life for free? He didn't know anything about me. Magnus was coming my way. Glancing at him, I lifted my chin and stared down Nehro. Violently, I ripped the gloves off that he'd given me. I threw them to the ground, kicked them aside. Nehro arched an eyebrow, but that was all. Whirling, I flexed my hands and moved towards Magnus. He was stunned, he must have thought I was insane. He looked like a lightweight boxer, I looked like a guy who'd come in off the street after attending a tattoo convention. Plus, I'd just thrown away my only real gear. I didn't fucking care what anyone thought about me. No one but her. Magnus ducked, avoiding my first hit. I wasn't patient, not tonight. Rage was whispering in my ear and it was hungry for me to act. Following after the blonde, I loomed over him and watched his leg fly. The kick was low, sharp—it'd leave a bruise on my thigh for sure. The crowd was barking again, a roar of madness. Yes, that's right. We're not men in this place. We're just rabid dogs.

Flying forward, I tackled Magnus to the floor. He was slippery, writhing away—but I crushed my hand into his hair and pulled him back. Holding him by the shoulders, I wrenched his face towards the cement with every bit of energy I had. And right then... I had lots of it. God, the way everyone cheered—they were as insane as me. Their bloodlust was no different. But I had a reason. I wanted this fight over fast. There was another man I had an agenda with. Magnus groaned, clawing at me. He could get no hold, his fists were wrapped too thickly in their gloves. Again, I slammed him into the floor. Again, the air became a chorus of delighted screams. Honestly, I was tempted to howl, too. Magnus stopped struggling. Someone rang a bell. Lifting my eyes, I tore my vision over and through and across every single face. I was looking for one person. I thought—for a second—that I spotted Zoe. But then I found him. And then I no longer cared. Throwing Magnus aside, I flexed my hands and felt nothing. Reese had been watching the fight. I could see it in his eyes, that flicker of surprise and terror. I approached, fast and determined. He didn't have a fucking chance. “Huck!” She was shouting my name. I ignored her.

Blood pumped through my veins like a train off the tracks. It careened and pushed me, threw me forward. Something was burning on one hand—it was distant. Meaningless. “Huck! Huck, stop!” Zoe grabbed my forearm, bringing me back to Earth. The blue of her eyes contrasted against the red dripping from my knuckles. Most of the stains were from Reese. He was sprawled on the ground, sitting up on his elbows. Crimson leaked down his chin to his shirt. I'd broken his nose with my fist. If Zoe hadn't pulled at me, tugging me towards the stairs, I would have hit him again. Reese spit to the side, glaring at me with cold hatred. “You piece of shit! Get back here!” Temptation struck—I wanted to slam into his stupid fucking face again. I wanted to shatter his teeth. I ached to make Reese bleed, to hurt. To pay. Skimming off the top. Those words. Lifting my head, I scanned furiously for Nehro—spotted him nearby. No emotion shone in his stare. I shouted, throat ripping with fiery grit. “You're unbelievable! How can you live with yourself?” Nehro said nothing. Lifting his head, he spun and vanished into the crowd. People swarmed forward, crouching to check on Reese.

Zoe struggled to pull me up the stairs once more. “Come on, let's get out of here!” Reese was helped to his feet. Wiping his mouth, he squinted at his palm—then pointed at me. “You're a dead man. You know that, right?” My smile slid over my lips, sizzling with my disgust. “Everyone dies, Reese. Some of us go painlessly.” Turning away, I broke eye contact. “Here's a tip; you won't be one of them.” In my head, I still saw his busted face—still longed to shred it to the bone. It haunted me long after Zoe forced me from the Dog House. Red blurred my vision. It was my companion, staying and smothering me until that wonderful woman shoved me against cool stone. “Huck, are you okay?” she asked, insistent. Moving my eyes, I saw we were surrounded by unfamiliar buildings. Everything was dark, quiet. The perfume of sweat and brutality was gone. “Where are we?” She put her palms on my cheeks, felt my forehead. “Not far, we walked for five minutes or so.” Five minutes? God, I'd been lost in a black cloud of hate. I didn't remember moving my feet. Zoe held something to me; my shirt, my jacket. “Put these on,” she said. “It's freezing out here.” “Not yet. The air feels good.” Closing my eyes, I swept my hair back. The wall behind me felt stable. I

needed stability right then. Lowering my clothing, Zoe made a tiny sound—it drew my attention. Her lips twisted, a worried frown. “Seriously, are you okay?” she asked, her breath turning into steam in the December night. Lifting my hand, I looked over the damage. Skin had been torn back, everything wet and hot-pink. Both of us winced, the pain becoming real. It was a dull throb, but it fucking hurt. “I'm fine,” I said quickly, recognizing her fear. She set my clothes on the ground. Reaching out, her small fingers curled around my wrist, turning my hand gingerly. “Why the hell did you do this to yourself?” I didn't mean to laugh, but it came out anyway; dry as sand. “Reese had it coming. The pain was—is—worth it.” Zoe's grip tightened. “Help me understand. One second you were beating down Magnus with all the fires of Hell at your back, and the next you're attacking Reese.” “That asshole was lying to you.” Reclaiming my arm, I cradled her shoulders. Zoe looked so tiny in my grip, a figurine made of paper. “You thought he wasn't taking any of the winnings. He was taking half.” Before my eyes, Zoe grew—a moon rising. She stood taller than I'd ever seen her. Her agony created a convincing illusion. I thought even her hair was swaying, snakes that coiled and wished to bite. “He told

me that he wanted me to keep every penny. All along, he was actually taking from me.” She twisted to stare at my bloody knuckles where they rested on her. Zoe whispered, “You found out, so you knocked him on his ass. You did that... for me?” I wanted to see her smile again. I had the awful fear that this tragedy would break the muscles that allowed her to laugh so freely. How could this news not put her heart in a vice? Remembering how terrified Reese had looked, I found some strength. My chuckle was sarcastic. “Call me Mr. Romantic.” Tension became a drop of water. It hung from the tip of an icicle, waiting to freeze or to fall. Maybe the ice would come with it, impaling us both. Zoe was no longer swelling. Her anger deflated, but it wasn't sadness that filled the holes. I kept waiting for her to shout, to cry. Reese had already betrayed her once. Now, with this brand new wound, she'd crawl into her own skin and never come back out. That man... he would pay for what he'd done to her. I was ready for her to reject the whole god damn world—and me with it. Wrapping her hands behind my head, Zoe shoved me into the wall. Raw heat exploded on my lips, her kiss meant for a familiar lover, not for a man in an alley. A man who had bled for her.

If it was done for her sake, I'd turn every fucking street red. Stealing my breath, she slid against my bare chest— reminding me that I was still wearing just my jeans. On reflex, I curled my arms around her body. Her heart hammed through her spine and into my palms. I imagined myself cradling it, keeping it safe. How the hell had we gotten here?

- Chapter Eight Zoe Salt and sin. Huck tasted like everything I imagined he would. He stood up for me. I bit his lower lip, tugging. He fought for me. Gliding my tongue over the roof of his mouth, I reveled in each groove. Huck won't betray me. I wanted it to be true. I was willing to let myself believe it could be. It's always easier to believe something when you're floating in a cloud of lust. I'd been struggling every second to resist this man. Huxton was sexy as hell, but it was more than that. My ache for him had grown deeper than just a hunger for his warm skin, firm hands and firmer cock. The way he could ripple his body... the intensity of his eyes... There were many reasons to crave Huxton Blake. My sole reason? He had decided, without me begging or praying, to stand up and fight for me. Not in the ring, and not for money, he'd gone head to head with the man who had wronged me. Reese had strung me through the mud. What a fucking liar. How long had he been playing me? Six months. Did he skim cash from every fight?

This meant I owed more money than I thought. It was soul crushing, the terror of walking backwards when you thought you were moving into the future. Nehro had never said a word. He knew, and he'd been happy to leave me ignorant. He wanted me to fail... he wanted me to default on that awful contract. He probably prayed every night for me to give in and spread my legs for him. Why did so many people seek to use me? “Zoe,” Huck breathed, his fingers coiling in my scalp. I gasped as he wrenched me away, demanding space between our lips. Facing him was hard, my head was swimming. I couldn't focus. “Zoe, why—fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this. Why are you kissing me?” Oxygen wheezed through my open mouth, but struggled to touch my brain. Everything inside my skull felt warm and wet and too big to be kept inside. “Because I've been dying to kiss you since you drove me home on your motorcycle last night.” Last night. Had it really only been a day since we'd met? I didn't care. I wanted to feel something good for once. Hope... hope was tantalizing. I leaned forward, wanting to taste him again. His hands held me steady by my hair, so rough they lifted pinpricks of light behind my eyes. Lowering my gaze, I stared longingly at the massive shape outlined in his jeans. I whispered, “You want to kiss me, too. Don't tell me you're any different.”

Huck's chest broadened, air sucking in until he was at full capacity. “Babe, I am different.” He yanked me forward, his forehead crushing against mine. “I wanted to kiss you hours before that ride. The minute I first saw you, sitting in that chair, crown on your head like a fucking queen... I knew I had to have you.” My world became his eyes and his smell and those wicked lips. That was all that existed. That was all I needed. In a whirl of my own hair, Huck spun me. Rough, cool stone dug into my shoulders. It trapped me in place. But Huxton... he put that solid wall to shame. He was far harder than the brick behind me. I'd kissed him once, seconds ago. His mouth made me forget I'd been the one to do it first. He made me forget everything with his soft lips and sharp teeth. Being kissed by Huxton was akin to inhaling a typhoon. He stripped me raw, made it impossible to think. He shoved a knee between my legs, forcing mine apart. Cupping my jaw, angling my head, he licked the arch of my throat. “God, you taste fucking amazing. I need more of you.” Lowering his face, he bit my shoulder through my jacket. “I want to see all of you, Zoe. I'm going to peel everything away until I expose you. I'll lick every inch of your skin and back again. Would you like that, babe?” All I could manage was a moan.

Chuckling darkly in his throat, Huck teased his other hand up my thigh. “That's a yes if I ever heard one. Fuck, how wet are you right now?” Shit, he's killing me. This was happening fast, a landslide I was being smothered under. I couldn't speak, and I didn't dare try. Whatever I said... it would reveal too much. More than I was willing to admit. Blushing, I tried to shake my head—his palm allowed nothing. I had to look down my nose to see his face. His smirk was jagged and delicious. Huck whispered, “You don't want to tell me out loud? That's fine. I can see for myself.” His wide hand grazed the top button of my jeans. With the last of the cool stone vanishing under my growing heat, I trembled. Sliding lower, Huck traced the zipper—thumbed the brass button. I couldn't close my legs, his knee was a firm blockade. He nuzzled my cheek; thick, dark hair caressed me. “Say that you're wet for me. If you can do that, I won't fuck you in this filthy alley. I'll take you back to my place, lay you out on a nice bed... make it soft and tender and sweet as god damn honey.” His fingers tread in circles, curving over the gap of my thighs. He was so close to my cunt. It didn't feel like I had anything between us, nothing to keep him from realizing how excited I was. Licking my lips, I shut my eyes. Do I want to tell him? I didn't know. I was lost in my desires, completely

forgetting how hard I had fought against this man. My reasons were muddled under the tingles. I was hungry for him. I could feel my own slick juices without moving. But still, admitting how wild he was making me... it was too much. “Last chance, doll,” he growled. Cupping me through my jeans, he squeezed roughly. My moan wasn't sweet or soft or modest. “Shit,” he breathed out, searing my ear. “Maybe you do just want me to fuck you right here.” I had forgotten I had hands—my limbs had been numb. Now, I curled my fingers into Huck's hair, forcing him up so I could kiss him. He shuddered, and I felt a flash of power. I was exciting him as much as he was tormenting me. My voice was liquid fire. “In this alley, at your place, on your damn bike... I don't care.” Wrenching him away, I stared into his furious green eyes and didn't blink. “Just fuck me, Mr. Romantic. I'm tired of waiting.” He sized me up, both hands slipping down to crush my hips. “Yes, ma'am. Happy to be of service.” With ease, he twirled me. My cheek brushed the stone, skin so sensitive that the texture was like sandpaper. It went through my jacket and shirt, chilling my firm nipples. Holding me by the wrists, all in a single hand, Huck pulled my arms to the small of my back. Over my eager,

surprised gasp, I listened to him growl. “I'll fuck you like you're asking... but we do it my way.” His way. That sounded perfect. With his free fingers, he deftly removed my jacket. It bunched up around my arms, not falling as he kept hold of my wrists. I thought he'd have trouble reaching me. I was wrong. Yanking my spine into a sharp curve, he lifted my chest off the wall. A mere few inches, enough to get under the cotton and trace my tits through my bra. I whimpered, tossing my head. He didn't remove my bra, he just yanked it up, exposing my breasts. December wind brushed the dusky tips, making them impossibly stiffer. Easy targets for his thumb and forefinger. Twisting lightly, he drew forth another moan. Huck murmured, “Jesus, you're sensitive.” Flicking fingerpads over the other nipple, he nuzzled the back of my ear. “Is all of you like this?” “Like what?” I gasped. “Perfect for fucking.” His tongue made swirls on my neck. Cupping my left breast, he squeezed softly—then hungrily. “Go ahead, tell me what I'll find when I reach into your pants and rub that impatient cunt.” Color blocked out my vision. “Shit, you have a filthy mouth,” I hissed.

Huxton brought his hand to my jeans, popping the button. “Love, every inch of me is filthy.” Pleasure controlled my lower belly. So did my urge to show him that I knew he was going as wild as me. Shifting my hips, I rubbed my ass along the front of his jeans. The material bulged, bruising us both. His cock was rigid as steel. He hissed through clenched teeth. “If you're trying to make me harder, I don't think it's possible. You like the feel of that?” Huck rocked into me, pressing me against the wall. “That's all from you, babe.” Okay, I admit—that made me grin proudly. He erased my expression with the agile unzipping of my jeans. My smugness melted, a whimper left in its place. Huck slid my pants down, dipping inside the front. Two fingers outlined the grooves just outside my panties. I almost fell—his body held me up. He whispered, “You're on fire down here.” Wrong. I was on fire everywhere. I sought him out, desperate to get his fingers to touch my pussy. Huck was keen to stroke anywhere but where I needed him to. I drove my hips forward; he just laughed, squeezing my inner thigh. “I like this side of you,” he said. “You're fun when you go a bit crazy.” “I'm not crazy.” “Then what are you?”

Shutting me eyes, I bit my tongue. He would have none of that. Letting my wrists go, he used my hair as a handle. Fingers tickled near my clit, his lips brushing my cheek. Forcing me to look at him, Huxton let me see the lust in his emerald eyes. He'd never hidden behind a curtain, not like me. Yet somehow... now? I was gazing into the eyes of a wicked creature. Someone that was barely holding back from eating me up, from making me scream. He thumbed my engorged clit—just once. “Aah!” I squeaked, shaking down to the heels of my feet. “Don't run from me, Zoe.” The fist in my hair wrenched sharply, setting my scalp on fire. It hurt, but I fucking loved it. The pain made me more aware of everything—the breeze, my own skin, and him. Huxton Blake. The man who wanted to ruin me. And I was ready for it. Hell, I needed it. Licking my lips, I breathed out, “Fuck me.” His fingers clenched, mouth twitching. My demand had melted some of his strength. Huck was lusting for me, his cock jamming through his jeans and against my ass. “Say it again,” he demanded. Unblinking, I stared him in the eye. His expectation made me shiver. “Fuck. Me.” I punctuated every word. I

wanted him to understand. No games—I needed him inside of me, or I was going to lose my mind. Two fingers slid into my cunt, curling through my wetness. I moaned, thrusting into his palm. It wasn't his cock, but it was better than my own fingers. Far better than what I'd done to myself in the safety of my bed. Masturbating to the idea of Huxton was a mere shadow when compared to the real thing. “You're fucking tight,” he groaned. Deeper, he explored me. His thumb twisted, brushing my clit, pushing me so close to coming I expected my heart to just stop. He'd gotten me near my climax with ease. He touched me expertly. His experience was clear, and it thrilled and intimidated me simultaneously. I loved that he knew what to do, but that power... god. The things he could do to me. The things he could make me do to him. Sex could be a weapon, I knew that. And still, in his capable hands, I shrugged away the danger. I was already becoming addicted to this man, could it possibly get worse after he made me come? I didn't let myself answer that. Huck wriggled his fingers, testing what I could handle. Electricity bounced to my brain, muscles hugging him, fluttering. “You're close, doll. I can feel it.” Again, he gave my clit a casual rub. “I can't wait to feel you come. Fuck, my cock is throbbing at the thought

of it. I've been dreaming about the sounds you'll make for me, Zoe.” That was it. I was done. Throwing my head back into his shoulder, I sobbed as the orgasm ripped through me. My knees bent, pushing together, trapping his hand. The hot pressure surged, my pussy clenching desperately onto his fingers. Pleasure turned my tongue numb. He'd created such a massive ball of desire in my stomach, the tension flexing and melting through my cunt. In my ear, he hissed, “Fuck, that's magical. I'm done waiting, I can't—not after that.” His fingers pulled free with a wet sound, juice tickling my skin. I tried to move my arms, but my jacket was bunched so tight around my wrists they were essentially cuffs. His metallic zipper sliced through the air. My gasp followed it. Gripping my panties, Huck tore them and my pants all the way to my ankles. I was completely vulnerable, he had me pinned. But I wasn't scared. Fuck no. I was ravenous. Warm, curved—his cock rubbed on my lower back. “I love the sight of that,” he chuckled. Speaking was a challenge, but I managed. “What?” “My cock, just seeing it wedged between your perfect ass-cheeks like this.” Gripping me, he spread me open, ground right against my sensitive skin.

I heard something tearing open. A condom. I was sure of it. It was happening, this was real. Huxton was actually going to fuck me. Intentionally, he yanked my hips away from the wall. I tumbled forward, my tits pressing roughly on the stone. His hand went to my shoulders, holding me so I wouldn't just collapse. The new angle opened me to him. Air swirled over my soaked pussy from behind, his fingers peeling me further. “Gorgeous,” he hissed with fervor. “Fucking beautiful. You've got a pussy worth writing songs about, Zoe.” My head swam, but I smiled helplessly. “Are you going to serenade me?” “No,” he said, pushing the fat tip of his cock to my entrance. “But you might. A pretty song made from your moans and squeals.” I stopped listening—I stopped breathing. Huck was spreading me open inch by fucking inch. I'd gotten a good look at his dick through his briefs before, I'd known it was big. Now, he was making me wonder if I could handle him in his entirety. Huxton filled me beyond capacity. Amazingly, my pussy rippled and begged and adjusted to let him in. The sensation was maddening, I couldn't hold still. Out of my control, my hips twitched and demanded more of him. My pussy was a glutton for Huxton Blake.

Groaning from low in my belly, I rocked backwards. How was he not finished? How much more of this man was there? Luckily, I was soaked. There was little friction, just my cunt strangling his length as it drove to his base. He scraped my roof, hit a part of me that turned my brain to jelly. I forgot how to form words. I just whimpered and whined; creating a song for him, just like he'd said I would. His legs bumped my hamstrings. With a raspy grunt, he sank to his root. His full thickness stretched my walls to their limit. And then he began moving. “God,” he said, withdrawing until just the ridge of his head was inside. “If it weren't for this condom, I think I'd come in a few seconds. You feel that good.” Digging nails into the dip of my waist, he slid into me with practiced patience. “But then... maybe you'd like that, hm? Me, losing control and filling this tight pussy with my hot come.” My eyes rolled in my head, lashes fluttering. Holy fucking shit. Huck was dirty, and I did love it. He was playing me like an instrument he'd been holding since he was a kid. I had a brief moment, my mind wandering—making jumps. How many women has he been with to be this good? He was a stripper, I'd enjoyed his dance skills... did he sway every lady with his words and fingers when he had them alone?

And then, as he slammed his cock into me again, I stopped caring. It didn't matter how he'd become so good with his cock, he just was. And I was enjoying it now. Me. Just me. Breathing heavy, Huck increased his speed. Gentle strokes become rough thrusts, our skin clapping together in the quiet alley. He was losing himself in me, and that was as much of a turn on as his calm, intentional actions. His cock swelled inside of me, making me see stars. If I filled my lungs with more air, they'd explode, and yet I couldn't get myself to breathe. The air was made from Huxton, his scent clogging my pores, my veins. I didn't feel the orgasm coming. It sparked, a firework with no warning. Shaking, I scraped my cheek on the wall. Nothing existed but my cunt and his cock, the two of them intertwined. Hot, wet, I came with a shout that shredded my voice. Clamping down on his length, I was acutely aware of him twitching. Crushing my hips so hard there would be imprints—tattoos created by Huck just for me—he shuddered. Even through the condom, I felt the force of his release. Boiling warmth, tiny spasms that went on forever. He held me to him, sweat from his bare chest dripping onto my shoulder. Our breathing was ragged, we were both drained. Turmoil from our back and forth

tension had finally escaped, leaving our bones useless mush. I started to slip, my knees no longer capable of keeping me standing. Huck caught me, easing me down until he was holding me against his chest. He slid free, grunting in my ear. I wanted him to stay inside forever, but I chewed my tongue and didn't say such a stupid thing. I didn't know what Huck wanted from this—from us. I didn't know what I wanted, either. Saying something so reckless... it risked ruining the moment. His hands moved to my back, helping me with my jacket. Flinching at the ache in my shoulders, I reclaimed the ability to use my hands. My first action? To grab his hard jaw and yank him to me for a kiss. He used his tongue, like he wasn't sure how to be sweet. That was fine. I didn't mind the rekindled coals between my thighs. Pushing my hair from my forehead, Huxton looked down on me. The smile he wore went to his eyes, but not beyond. His cheeks were tinged red, a sign of his exertion—or maybe the cold. “Oh,” I said, leaning over, handing him his clothes. “Shit, put these on before you get sick.” “I'm too warm to get sick,” he chuckled. Still, he redressed, unfurling the condom and tossing it into the trash all around us. I wanted to scold him about littering.

He was too quick, speaking first. Far more serious than I was ready for. “Why the hell did you fight me for so long?” My mouth fell open. Oh, fuck. He wanted to go there, right now? Frowning nervously, I tucked my knees to my chest. “You won't like the truth.” He curled his fingers over my knee and said, “I'll take it over not knowing.” Glancing down, I noted the cuts on his hand. Wounds from knocking down the man who'd wronged me. Yes, he was going to hate my news. “The thing is, even from the start, you reminded me so much of Reese.” The anger I'd expected bloomed bright. Huck's glare went into my heart, even if it wasn't meant for me. “I'm not Reese.” “No, I know that now.” Cupping his knuckles, I felt him startle. “But it wasn't just him. It was everyone and everything, before I'd even met him.” I made myself smile. “Reese wasn't the first asshole I got hung up on.” Some of his anger slipped out of his green eyes. “So you think I'm an asshole.” I showed my teeth, grinning. “Would you say you're not?” In defeat, he copied my expression. “Huck,” I sighed, stroking down to his wrist. “Lots of people have fucked me over. Betrayed me. I want to trust you. It's probably stupid, but you give me a good feeling. I'll do my best not to hold my demons over you,

but...” I wrinkled my nose. “It's just hard. Life has been hard.” Tipping my chin up, he graced me with a serious stare. “I'll do my best not to make it harder.” Unnerved by this side of him, I ached to ease the mood. “Was that a dirty joke?” “No. It was a dirty promise.” Shit. My heart was slamming into my ribs. “I'm wary about promises. People break them. But, I think... I'm okay with that one.” Hugging me to his chest, he put his chin on my head. “That's enough for me.” Listening to his lifeblood, I closed my eyes and wondered if maybe... It could be enough for me, too.

- Chapter Nine Zoe

I woke up smiling. Light filtered across my eyes, making me squint lazily. For once, it didn't bother me. I'd never noticed what a pretty color the ceiling turned with the sunflower yellow casting over it. Peaceful. That was a good word for it. For how I felt. Turning on my side, I pulled the covers over my face and just... laughed. Holy shit. Did last night really happen? A single, swinging fist. That was all it took to send me tumbling like a domino. I saw Huck in my mind's eye, standing so proud and fierce in the ring. Magnus, a wreck at his feet. Then he'd turned—and found Reese. Pushing the pillow between my teeth, I bit down as hard as I could. Fuck, it'd been amazing. Huxton was stunning, a warrior that had stomped through the staring faces and taken down my old enemy. My heart started buzzing. I lavished in the sensation. Learning that he'd done it all for me. That had put me over the edge. I kissed him, I reminded myself. Pushing

the pillow away, I touched my lips, felt them for what seemed the first time. I Kissed Huck. Then he kissed me. And then... Sitting up, I shook the hair from my eyes. I was getting too warm, reliving the events. I couldn't take any of it back. I didn't think I wanted to. Last night, I'd fucked a stripper. It would blow Huck's mind to learn he wasn't the first one I'd been with. Sighing, I hugged myself and rolled onto my side. Don't make things complicated. They didn't have to be. It could just be fun. Huxton and I, well... why not just lavish in the pleasure and rush of our interactions? Because already... I'm wanting more. Tapping my cheeks, I jumped to my feet. Wanting more from this was irrational. I'd just been saying yesterday that I couldn't give in to this guy. But I did. Dammit. I needed to know where this path was headed. Stepping fast, I shoved out into the hall. I need to talk to Eliza. She knew Huck, they were old friends. If I told her what had happened, she had to give me some info about him. Would my roommate high-five me... or reprimand me? “Eliza?” My voice was weird in the still air. “Eliza, are you home?” Heading to her door, I knocked gently. I

could hear noise inside. She had to be awake. “Eliza, I need to talk to you. It's important. I'm coming in, okay?” No answer. Alright. Twisting the knob, I cracked the door and leaned in. “Eliza, sorry, but I—Oh my god!” Sprawled across her bed, illuminated by the glow of her laptop, Eliza flashed her wide eyes at me. She was naked. Entirely fucking naked. I'd never seen so much of Eliza before. That wasn't the worst of it. The screen of her computer showed a few chat windows, the red light of the camera blinking. Her legs were spread, back against the headboard. In one hand she held a shiny purple dildo. Or, well, she had been holding it. When she saw me, she threw it so hard it bounced off her closet door. “Zoe, what the hell!?” “I'm so sorry!” I shouted, throwing my arm across my face. Oh shit oh shit. I hadn't expected to walk in on... on whatever that was. Slamming the door, I stumbled into the hall— bounced off the wall, sitting heavily on the floor. My heart hammered in my chest, eyes hurting from how they strained. I rubbed my eyes, the visual of Eliza haunting me. What the fuck had she been doing? Shaking, I scuffled on all fours until I was in the kitchen. Grabbing at a chair, I got myself on my feet, sitting back down just as heavily on the cushion.

“Fucking fuck,” I said out loud. That had been... very uncomfortable. In the hall, hinges creaked. I sat up sharply, like my spine was made of diamonds, unbendable. Without moving my head, I watched Eliza as she approached me. She'd thrown on a bathrobe, her bare feet quiet. Wordless, she sat across from me. The silence stretched, our eyes flicking to meet—then dancing away again. It was painful. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Sorry you walked in on that. I thought it was locked.” My nod was subtle. I kept looking at my hands. “It's my fault. Really.” Saying nothing, she shifted in cher hair. Lord, this was awkward. Turning slightly, I watched her from the corner of my eyes. I mumbled, “Were you doing what I think you were doing?” Smoothing her forehead, Eliza forced herself to look me dead in the eye. I managed not to flinch away. “Yeah. I'm a cam-girl, Zoe.” A cam-girl. Jesus. “I would never have guessed,” I said, calming the nervous edge of my heartbeat. “I figured you were... I don't know. Getting money from your parents or something.” Smiling wryly, she lifted an eyebrow. “You really didn't give it much thought, huh?”

Hanging my chin, I laughed. “I guess not.” Truthfully, I'd been so busy living my own double life, I hadn't bothered to wonder. As long as Eliza didn't pry into my life, I wasn't going to look into hers. Camming, right in her own bedroom. Just feet away from me. “Does it disgust you?” she asked, not hiding her sadness. “No! No, of course not!” She tugged at her long hair, sighing. “Then why are you all red, why can't you look at me without wiggling in your chair?” Blushing hotter, I pointedly leaned across the table. Grabbing her hands, I leveled my tone. “Whatever you do is your own business. Okay? I'm just a little shocked, that's all.” My smile was shy. “I wasn't prepared to walk in on that.” Squeezing my fingers, Eliza softened her eyes. “I heard you knocking. I really thought it was locked.” Hoping to relax her more, I said, “I thought you were going to stab me with that dildo.” Peals of laughter, sweet as candy. Letting go of me, Eliza leaned back in her chair and hugged herself. Tears squeezed from her eyes, the knots flooding away. In seconds, I was giggling, too. “God,” she chuckled. “I closed the cam down so fast, but I bet those guys wondered what I saw that scared me

so bad.” Pausing, she took a long breath. “Thanks for being okay with this.” Shrugging high, I put my elbows on the table. “Like I said, what you do is your business. At least you're not on a street corner, right?” Something flickered in her stare. “Would that be going too far, you think? Sex for money?” A jagged pain moved through my stomach. She couldn't know how close she was coming to my deepest fear. “Yes. Sex for money would bother me. No one should be forced to do that.” “Why do you think I'd only do it if I was being forced?” Blinking, I looked Eliza over with new appreciation. Her mouth was a hard pucker, fingers half-bent on the table. I'd pushed a nerve. “Eliza... call me nuts, but are you trying to tell me you have exchanged sex for cash?” She pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “Lying would be stupid at this point. Zoe, I used to be an escort.” I must have looked as surprised as I felt, because she lifted her hands in defense. “Not anymore. It got to be too much for me. Camming... it gives me the parts I loved about escorting, this powerful sort of rush...” Stopping herself, Eliza bit the side of her lip. “Judge me if you want, but I enjoyed feeling so wanted. It was addicting, but the danger wasn't.” My ears were ringing. I kept waiting for her to say, “Just kidding!” But she didn't. She wasn't joking around.

“Holy fuck,” I whispered. I didn't know what else to say to this news. “Go ahead. Call me a bad person. Every other guy I tried to date seriously did.” A full body shudder went through me. Eliza had jostled something loose. The part of me that felt worthless. The dark pit I was working to this very day to shine light on and prove wasn't real. Just a boogeyman. I reached for her again. She dodged me, that time. “Eliza, no. God... you're not a bad person. I'm just trying to keep up.” I gave her a sympathetic frown. “You're the first escort I've ever met. I mean, former escort. Sorry.” Why was there a dodgy sort of guilt in her eyes? Eliza rocked in her seat, looking away. I thought she wanted to say something. Instead, she stopped herself and reset. “Thank you. I didn't want to tell you. I figured you'd freak out. You uh... always seemed a little virginal, if that makes sense.” Virginal. Well, she was wrong there. I made fists on my thighs. Here was my opening. “I had sex with Huxton last night.” If she had been holding another dildo, she would have chucked it at me. “You what?” Wincing, I lifted my hands in defense. “Calm down. It just sort of happened.” “Believe me,” she said, wagging a finger. “Sex with Huxton never just happens. Zoe, what were you thinking?”

I mumbled, “I was thinking it'd feel good.” And it felt amazing. “Now I'm thinking there's a reason you're freaking out. What's wrong with what I did?” Standing quickly, she started pacing. “Nothing. Everything. Fuck, I told him...” Coming to a halt, she shot me a look over her shoulder. “I didn't think he'd be the kind of guy you'd go for. I thought you liked quiet, classy men.” Laughing, I smoothed my hair nervously. “Because you think I'm uptight.” An idea hit me, I lifted my eyebrows. “Is that why you had him dress up like a damn Gucci model at my party?” Blushing, Eliza fidgeted with her robe ties. “I missed the mark, I take it. Look, Zoe, it's fine if you like men like Huck. But uh, it's just...” “Just?” I pressed. Eliza sighed heavily. “Okay, you just got out of a relationship with a dude who cheated on you. I know Huxton pretty well. I wouldn't say he's a one-girl type.” A cold wave trickled through my veins. “We just had sex. It isn't like we're dating.” Not a one-girl type. What does that mean? Did he have other women on the side? I felt like Eliza was hiding something from me. I was scared to push and learn more. I'd woken up so happy, and now, my insides were made of acid. She came to my side, bending down and touching my shoulder. “Zoe, if you like him, go for it. But you might

want to talk to him about what he expects... and what you expect out of this.” Staring at her hand, I thought about Huck's busted knuckles. I just want him to fight for me. I need him. He's all I have keeping me afloat. Patting her wrist, I smiled lightly. “You're right. I'll talk to him and clear things up.” Though she nodded, Eliza still looked wary. I left the room, heading into the bathroom. I had no clue what was sliding around under the surface of Eliza's fears, but I didn't like it. Until I saw Huck, I could do nothing about the what ifs or the wondering. So for now... I would take care of something basic. A hot shower was calling my name.

- Chapter Ten Huxton

The welcoming scent of toast filled my kitchen. In the background, I'd put on some low-tempo music. It kept me company as I scraped butter on the hot bread, my hips swaying lazily to the rhythm. I'd woken up with a song in my brain—a song created by the lovely Zoe Lillith. Fuck, she'd moaned so loud in that alley. I'd also woken with a massive erection. It had abated as I made breakfast, but with my memory of the night, it now returned. Chuckling, I adjusted myself. Cradling my toast, I took a huge bite. I had an appetite; not for food, but something else. This would have to hold me over. Grabbing my coffee from the counter, I headed into my living room. I had to dodge the brass stripper pole that went from floor to ceiling. Sitting down on the couch, I spotted my jeans on the floor. I'd kicked them off when I'd walked in the door, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to my bedroom. Swallowing from my mug, I pulled the pants to me with my heel. One more bite of breakfast, then I set it on the arm of the couch. Grabbing my jeans, I slid out my

cellphone. The screen was dark; I hadn't turned it back on after Kaley's text. Bracing myself, I pushed the button. The phone lit up, buzzing as messages came through. Not just from Kaley; there were a few from Gina, too. I'd left my happy clients very unhappy. It was so unlike me. I'd never ignored them, not intentionally. She'd sent three while the phone had been turned off; Kaley: Oh, plans? That's too bad. You should see how wet I am. You're really missing out. The next message had come thirty minutes later, a photo attached. Kaley must have done some gymnastics to send me such a crisp picture of her hand deep in her spread pussy. Kaley: I'll be up all night, just come by when you're ready, babe. Shifting on the couch, I hesitated—then scrolled past. Fucking hell. If I'd seen that last night, I would have told her to stay just like and wait for me to get there. Running a hand through my hair, I eyed her final text. Kaley: Fine. It's one in the morning, guess you really are busy. You have any hot guy friends that I can call next time? Sighing, I slumped into the cushions. Kaley wasn't used to being denied. To her credit, she had never been.

I'd been with clients into the late hours, and before stumbling home to sleep, I'd still visited her. She tried to tempt me, and now she feels scorned. Hovering over the keys, I started to type a reply to Kaley's particularly disgruntled last message. Each time I tapped a few letters, I erased it again. What the hell could I even say? Sweet talk her. That's what she wants, and it'll get me back into her good graces. That's what I want. But my heart wasn't in it. A few more times, I struggled to craft a reply. Setting my phone in my lap, I groaned. My mind was running through my fingers, I couldn't hold it still. I didn't want to talk to Kaley or Gina. I wanted to talk to Zoe. Squeezing my phone, I opened my recent calls, found the number, and dialed. Each time the line rang, it pushed the uncertainty about my clients aside. I could worry about them another time. Wasn't I allowed to have fun, to go with my gut and focus on... On what? I asked myself, staring around my apartment. On a fling, on a girl who needs my help but fights me every step of the way? Fuck, I loved that side of her. Zoe's back and forth had made her so different than the plethora of women who phoned me for sex. I really did love my job, but it had been... well. Easy, lately. Repetitive.

Repetitive? No. Where the fuck did that idea come from? The ringing cut short, Zoe's voice kissing my eardrum. “Hey Huck, what's up?” Smiling, I sank deeper into the couch. She cleansed me with that voice, but at the same time, she stirred me up. I was already reliving the way she'd moaned with my dick buried to the hilt inside of her. With just her greeting, she'd gotten me hard. “What's up? Well, that depends on how you mean, doll.” Chuckling, I slid my palm into my boxers, grabbing the base of my cock. Huskily, I asked, “Some parts of me are more awake than the rest.” Zoe cleared her throat. “Are you doing what I think you are?” “Jerking myself to the sound of your voice?” Breathing out low, hot, I squeezed myself tighter. “Correct.” “Huck! Come on!” “Come on what?” I whispered. “I'm all alone here. Want to come by?” She made a few noises, all adorable and hilarious. “Did you really call me for this?” Laughing gently, I let my cock go. “Would that be so bad?” Her pause was long, so I pushed on. “I actually wanted to see if you wanted to go to the gym and practice with me.” “What?”

“You were the one harping on me to be prepared for these fights. This is something I could really use your help with. You know the Dog House better than me.” Though, I was quickly getting the lay of the land there. It seemed to rotate around 'whatever Nehro wants, goes.' Zoe spoke calmer, no longer freaking out over the image of me touching myself with her on the phone. “Okay. Sounds good. Which gym should we meet at?” Poking at my now cold toast, I said, “Wherever you suggest.” Unease dripped into her words. “The only place I really know of is where Reese trains. What if he shows up?” I didn't know I was grinning. It had just happened, and now, my cheeks ached from it. “If he shows up, it'll be perfect. What better way to practice than to take him down?” “Huck... I know you got him down last night, but he wasn't expecting it. Reese has been fighting in the Dog House for a long time. He's a guy to take serious.” “I'm taking him very seriously.” Standing, I dusted crumbs away. “The problem is, he isn't taking me seriously. He called me a newbie last night. I'm far from that.” She chuckled and said, “After seeing you fight twice now, I figured you weren't new to this. I was wondering how a stripper-bodyguard had so much skill.” “I was born skilled.”

“Your business card should say that.” I laughed, shaking my head slowly. “I'll consider it for my next printing.” Heading into my bedroom, I opened my closet, my phone balanced between shoulder and ear. “Tell me where I'm going, I'll head there now. You need a ride?” Zoe was smiling, I could hear it. “What am I supposed to ride? You aren't here.” In my boxers, my cock jumped. I hadn't been expecting that. “Proud of yourself for that one, huh?” Now she was chuckling, but it had a warm, breathy quality. “Maybe. I'll text you the address. See you in fifteen or so, Huck. Don't be late.” Shaking my head, I ended the call. My eyes moved, finding myself in my mirror. Running a hand over my stomach, I grazed my erection. Fifteen minutes wasn't enough time to get myself off and be punctual. That sneaky woman had known.

It was a quick ride downtown to the location she'd sent me. The air cleared my skull, helped me focus on what I was doing. Which was good, really.

I didn't think Zoe would want me to crash my bike because I wasn't able to think of anything but her. Parking my motorcycle, I grabbed my backpack, pushing through the front doors. It was a small gym, but that was normal. It was aimed at MMA, guaranteeing no one who showed up was just someone who wanted to walk for hours on a treadmill. But, because of that—and the fact it was a Monday morning—it was nearly empty. Looking closer, I saw that someone had strung up some Christmas ornaments and tinsel on the walls. There was a guy behind the counter, a young kid who nodded at me lazily. In front of him, a big wreath sparkled. Nice to see that even gyms can enjoy the holidays, I mused. Turning slightly, I gazed at the equipment. There was a raised boxing ring in one corner; heavy bags hanging from chains or standing on strong bases sprinkled throughout. A few weights and other tools were set on another far wall. I didn't see Zoe yet. Hoisting my bag, I swept across the gym towards the far corner. The shower area was silent, the air cool. Water echoed around me from leaky sinks. Quickly, I changed out of my typical jeans and jacket. Zoe had been right, I didn't look like a fighter when I'd been in the ring. That hadn't mattered, but working out in jeans—well. It wasn't ideal.

In my defense, I hadn't been ready the first time she'd called me for help. The second time... okay, sure. I could have gone home and changed, like she'd suggested. It would have been a good idea. But being around Zoe... To me, that was the better idea. In long, dark green shorts and a black tank-top, I stepped into the main gym. Wrapping my hands as I walked, I nearly dropped the protective tape. She was waiting for me, her body twisted in profile. Her dark-grey tights fit every curve of her body, a sight I could have gazed on for hours. Zoe's shirt was similar to mine, except it was a rich blue. It enhanced the wildred of her hair, which she'd tied high on her head in a bouncing tail. Her eyes were narrowed on the Christmas decorations with clear distaste. When she turned my way, I was sure she caught the lust that was trying to crawl out of my eyes and cross the room to smother her. “Huck!” she called, hesitating, looking me up and down. I think, like me, she appreciated what she saw. Grinning, I tied off my wraps and closed the distance between us. “Why were you glaring at all the holiday sparkle? Do you hate Christmas or something?” I was joking, but she faltered. “No. I mean—not exactly.” Shrugging, she scratched the side of her neck self-consciously. “I love snow. I haven't seen it in a long time.”

“That seems easy to fix. I'm from Colorado, the snow is all over the place there right now. It's a weekend drive, easy.” Zoe was frowning, trying to stop it and failing. “Leaving isn't that easy for me. I have responsibilities, and lack of funds... you know this.” Icy guilt spread through my bones. Clearly, this was a sore spot for her. I was eager to change the topic. Indicating her outfit, I said, “What, am I supposed to be fighting you?” Spreading her arms, she motioned down her body; I was eager to follow. “It's a gym. This is gym wear.” Blinking, her smile went crooked. “If you really want me to spar with you, I can. I'd just hate to embarrass you when I win.” Reaching for her wrists, I tugged her against me. “Babe, if you win, I'll be something far nicer than embarrassed.” She felt my cock thickening in my shorts. Blushing, Zoe disengaged and stepped back. I just chuckled, glancing at the kid behind the desk. He hadn't even looked up. “Let's focus,” she said, though her eyes kept dancing down to my hips. Tugging at her hair, she faced away, walking further inside. I didn't mind. The view was amazing. Following her, I looked on while she set up one of the bags. It hung between us, the chains keeping it in the

air jingling. “Warm up,” she instructed. I was plenty warm. Smiling, I bit my tongue and rolled my shoulders. “I've never had such a sexy trainer.” Furrowing her brow, Zoe tapped the bag and backed up to give me room. “Right. Tell me about the trainers you've had. I'm trying to make sense of this weird combination of dancer and fighter that you claim to be.” “Is it that weird?” Bouncing lightly, I threw an experimental jab at the bag. The sound popped through the air, the chains squeaking. “Sparring can get a guy in great shape. Strippers need to be in peak condition.” Winking at her, I swung again. It wasn't hard enough to make the bag swing, I was just loosening my muscles. Zoe studied me, taking it all in. “Hmm. But wouldn't fighting injure you? You couldn't go getting a busted nose, for example.” “Are you worried about my pretty face?” Glancing at her, I punched the canvas with more force. Reese had come to mind. Thinking about her ex had shoved adrenaline into my veins. Folding her arms, she looked away. “I'd like you to make it out of this in one piece. For your sake, and mine.” The venom in her voice made me pause. Eyeing her, I switched sides, hitting with my other fist. “I'm flattered. Care to tell me more about your end of this, now?”

She blinked. “I said my debt was personal.” Her lips tightened, making it obvious she wanted to end this conversation here. Double jabs, I started pounding the bag faster, fiercer. “You're grilling me about my past, but not letting me return the favor. How is that fair?” “It's not about fair. It's about me saying I'm not comfortable going into this with you.” Grabbing the bag to stop it swinging, I squinted at her. “With me, specifically?” She stared at her feet, but I spotted the guilt before she hid it. “Huck, please don't press this. Isn't it obvious I don't want to talk?” “Extremely obvious. Which is why I'm even more curious, now.” Slipping around the bag, I scooped her cheeks up in my palms. The bandage-wraps prevented me from feeling all of her skin, and I hated that. “Secrets are fine. But if your debt is going to change anything about how I feel about you—about what I'm doing?” My thumb grazed the side of her mouth. I heard her inhale, imagined her heart fluttering. “You have to tell me. Okay?” Zoe held my stare. My intensity won, and in the end, she crumbled and escaped my grasp. My hands fell to my hips, clenching uneasily. “Okay,” she said, raspy. “Some parts of my debt do affect you.” Looking up at me through her thick lashes, she frowned. “I owe a lot of money. If you stay, and fight

every single fight, I think it will take us... a very long time to pay Nehro.” I tilted my head. “How long?” Defeat stained her features. Pretty blue eyes went dark, flashing from me, to the far wall, then back again. “Years. Fucking years, Huck.” Years. My stomach dropped, tangling my feet up. I couldn't walk, but I wanted to go to her and hold her so badly. Instead, my own self-preservation was taking over. I asked, “How many years?” “I don't know.” She flinched. “No, sorry. I have an idea... I'm just terrified if I say, you'll walk away. You'll open your eyes and realize how crazy this is.” Laughing bitterly, she hugged herself tight. “I have to tell you, don't I? It's only right. I don't want you to hate me the way I hate Reese for misleading me.” When she cursed his name, it reignited the fire in my belly. The corner of her mouth lifted, nearly a snarl. Zoe muttered, “Taking half of my fucking winnings, god dammit.” Palming her forehead, she tried to run her fingers in her hair, forgetting it was tied back. The result was her freeing some strands, creating a disheveled, delicious look. Breathing in, slow and deep, I took a step towards her. She didn't retreat. “Tell me how long.” Shame swam from her wide eyes, settling in her soft voice. “Ten years.”

Light surged through my skull. I was doing math, adding the numbers and seeing no other logical results. But the answer was too much. If each fight netted her a grand... and she'd said there were two or three fights a month... Even at a glance, the number was astounding. She has to owe Nehro over three hundred and sixty thousand dollars. Holy fucking hell. Zoe was waiting, expectation strong in her face—in her stance. She knew I'd added it all up. Even if I hadn't, just learning it was ten years of fist-fights ahead of me... how could I promise I would be here for her? Who could commit to such a stretch of time? Ten years of adjusting my schedule, turning down high paying clients just to guarantee I could be at Zoe's side for every single match. If I missed one, she would default. Wait. That was what I needed to know. “You never told me what happens if I don't show up for a fight,” I said. Standing tall, she tightened her arms, almost choking herself. I swear, she was holding herself together. I was digging too deep, too fast, and we both knew it. But it had to be done. She whispered, “Did you plan to test the waters and find out?”

Another step, I was so close I just had to reach out. I could hold her close and stop her shivering. I didn't. God, why didn't I? “Zoe, please. I need to know. Were you hoping I'd fight blindly? Ten years of ignorance?” “I—I don't know.” “That much money... and with all your constant panic over it...” Gazing at the hollow pits of her eyes, eyes that had twinkled at me just minutes ago, I grit my teeth. “Keep the source of the debt to yourself, for now. But tell me what Nehro gets if you default. What scares you so much?” “Saying it out loud makes me feel sick.” “Then be sick.” Zoe examined our surroundings. No one was in earshot, the kid at the desk was playing on his phone. Even so, she dropped her voice so low I had to strain. “If I default... Nehro will make me sell my body. I'll become his whore to pay off the rest of my debt.” Acid rumbled up from my guts, filling my mouth. I didn't dare speak, I didn't know what would spill out. Sell her body. Suddenly, so much made sense to me. The comments she'd made to me in her bedroom, when I'd tried to suggest she pay me back without money. I'd meant to flirt, to tease. Instead, I'd hit a sensitive nerve. Sweat slid down my back. I noticed my arms were knotting up, I was crushing my fists together so tight. “That kind of a contract—he can't enforce it, Zoe.”

“I wish he couldn't. Believe me, he has his ways.” I jerked my chin side to side. “So much of this just makes no sense.” Cocking her head, she put on a sad smile. “I've told myself that so many times. So, now what?” I stared at her. Zoe studied my stance. My growing rage was clear as day. Bluntly, she said, “Will you walk away? You know the details, or enough of them. Ten years of fighting, all to make sure I don't have to fall to my knees and suck whatever cock Nehro puts in front of me.” She made a rude gesture with her hand in the air. Stunned, my eyebrows flew to my hairline. This was what Zoe had struggled with. I grasped her anger, because if I felt this furious, how could she not be enraged? Somehow, Nehro had a way to ensure she'd follow the letter of his perverse contract. The part of her that had glowered when Reese had shown up last night... proving that he was willing to fight, just not for her... I got it. I really did. Zoe had been desperate when she'd first called me, a man she barely knew, for help. But who could blame her? She'd been faced with no other alternative. Either I came and fought, or she would be forced into something she was clearly terrified of. Sex for money. The thing I luxuriated in.

How could I have berated her so harshly, when I was hiding something like that from her? Fuck. I was a god damn hypocrite. “Huxton.” I had a dreadful feeling, like that was the last time she would ever whisper my name. “You can go. I won't even blame you. Ten years of risking your health —your life—for me?” Laughing dryly, her mask of false sincerity was fraying. “I'll find someone else. If I give them a cut of the winnings, even if it means I have to keep doing this for longer, maybe they'll be fine with it. Maybe they'll—” Catching her in my arms, I pushed her backwards. We bounced off one of the punching-bags, stumbling against the boxing ring. The ropes swayed under her weight, but I kept pressing, arching her down and holding her steady. I couldn't handle one more word about me abandoning her. Not now... and maybe never. No one fights for free. Gripping her hair, I kissed her roughly. My voice was guttural, raw with my rattling emotions. “How dare you?” “Wh—how dare I what?” Zoe's eyes were so huge, I could fall into them. “How dare you suggest that I walk away?” Biting her lower lip, I rolled my tongue over hers, massaging it. She tasted amazing, and it reminded me of what we'd done. What I'd done.

Zoe was messing up my world, and I... I just didn't care. My eyes flashed, boring into hers. I said with a grin, “Your twenty bucks belongs to me. Got it?” Her mouth trembled. Zoe sank into my stare, judging me—seeking some proof that I was fucking with her. I was scared she might find some. I was acting on impulse, still unsure of what I was doing or why. I couldn't promise one year, never mind ten. But when she smiled, god. I stopped thinking about the future. I had a beautiful present right here, and wasn't that good enough? “I owe you forty, now,” she said. “It sounds so pathetic, doesn't it?” “It's not even enough for a date with me.” Pushing my nose to her temple, I closed my eyes. Her skin was humming against mine. “I'm not cheap. Don't get the wrong idea, doll.” She kissed me once, then darted away. “Good to know. I don't like cheap men.” With that, the mood shifted. The rest of the afternoon, we juggled kickboxing and cardio. Zoe pushed me, and when I didn't break, she pushed me harder. She thought I had insane stamina, but it was more than that. As long as I was moving—struggling... I didn't have to think.

The worst thing I could do was think, because then, I would begin to wonder what was wrong with me. I couldn't do that. Even if it was irrational, I had to push down my doubt. Zoe deserved someone to fight for her. And I had to prove that standing up for people... Fighting for them... Didn't have to come with a price.

- Chapter Eleven Huxton

We were both sweating by the time we finished up. Stretching, I slid my jeans on over my shorts, zipping my jacket next. “I need a shower, feel like riding with me back to my place?” I asked, smiling down at Zoe. Pulling her coat on over her tank-top, she led the way to the exit. “That sounds nice. Where do you live?” “Not far. It'll be a quick ride on my bike.” Together, we climbed onto my Harley. She did it so naturally, like hugging her body against mine was second-nature. True to my word, we ripped through the traffic, dodging around cars, and arrived at my apartment in record time. I parked in my spot in the back alley, leading us through the gate. The complex was small, and in LA fashion, not well insulated. I didn't mind, I enjoyed the noise of the cars passing by. It was a good substitute for white noise. Opening the door, I waved her inside. “Want a drink?” I asked, hanging my jacket over a chair. When Zoe said nothing, I turned, blinking at her.

She was standing in place, fixated on the brass pole that went up to the ceiling. “Stripper pole in the living room,” she said, cracking a smile. “Bold statement.” “My Feng Shui has always been good.” Chuckling, I reached out for her jacket. Zoe slid it off, letting me drape it on top of mine. I liked the visual, our two garments blending together in one copulating mass. She walked around, turning on her heel when she reached the couch. “Nice place.” Following her eye, I smiled. “It's alright. Let me grab you a drink, you want water or something harder?” “Harder?” she asked. Opening the fridge, I rustled inside. “Beer, wine, vodka... unless you thought I meant something else?” Peeking out of the room, I saw how she was pursing her lips at me. Zoe rolled her eyes. “Water is fine.” She motioned at the pole beside her. “Do you really practice on this?” Filling two glasses, I sipped mine, handing her the other. “Not anymore.” Her eyebrows scrunched. “Don't wanna take your work home with you, huh?” Because I don't strip any more, I do something... else. Instead of speaking, I chugged more water. Fuck. Maybe it was time to tell her. “Zoe—” “Can I play on it?” I spilled some liquid—wiped my mouth. “On what, this?” Palming the pole, I gave her another look of

disbelief. “Don't tell me you used to strip?” The blue in her eyes darkened, lips coiling. “Would that surprise you?” “Fucking—of course it would.” Laughing, she set her glass down, drying her palms on her shirt. “Sorry to be a downer. I've played on one before, but I never danced in any clubs.” She considered me, then added, “One of my old boyfriends was a stripper.” I inched an eyebrow upwards. “You're just full of surprises. It didn't bother you that he did that?” Gripping the brass, Zoe tested how sturdy it was. “It paid the bills, and he was pretty fun. Dating a stripper has benefits.” Grinning at me, she shrugged. “If you're cleverly asking if it bothers me that you dance, the answer is no. I mean...” Grunting, she kicked off her shoes and put a foot on the pole. “I'll admit, the lapdance you gave me was way more intimate than anything he ever did, that I know of. It makes me a tiny bit jealous, imagining you like that with other women.” My heart was cramping, her words giving me weird highs of relief and plummeting despair. It was nice that she was open minded, but she had no clue. How could she even guess at what I was doing for money these days? I hadn't been very clear. I mean, I couldn't be. Escorting like I did was illegal. I'd go to jail for prostitution if I wasn't careful. My card

was intentionally vague, my clients all gained from word of mouth. Stepping back, I watched as Zoe did a wobbly spin. The look on her face wasn't sexy, she was concentrating so hard just to hold herself up. It distracted me from my mood, and soon, I was chuckling. “You're a natural.” “Shut up,” she said, but she was smiling, too. “Fine. Show me how it's done.” Without waiting a beat, I approached the pole. Zoe gave me a mini-bow, too amused by the situation. I thought it was time to shift the humor into something... tastier. Pushing my shoulders into the metal, I faced Zoe. She stepped back to allow me more room. Her interest was growing. “There's no music,” I said softly, stretching my arms over my head. “So use your imagination.” My chest pushed out, arching and causing the rows of muscles along my stomach to flex through my thin shirt. Sinking low, I crouched and spread my legs. Zoe watched me, fixated on my movements. Not wanting to disappoint, I searched my memory for everything I'd ever learned during my brief stint in strip clubs. Rolling my hips, I flowed like water, moving upwards until I was standing again. Dropping an arm, I inched my shirt high, exposing my stomach. Zoe swallowed loudly.

Grinning, I peeled the garment over my head, my hair gaining that tousled look. Crushing the brass, I spun in a lazy, controlled circle, feet dancing over the floor. Easily, I lifted myself upwards, climbing until I had my thighs wrapped tight. Watching for her reaction, I licked my lips, gyrating against the pole. I ground myself against it, giving her a show. My back muscles rippled, tattoos swimming and coming to life. Zoe's stare was hungry, blue-fire that waited to burn my flesh. “You're good,” she said huskily. Winking, I let my legs go, using just my upper-body to control my decent. When I landed, I pushed my hips forward. My hard-on thrust into view, plain through my jeans. Her attention shot to it, hypnotized. I said, “Did you want a closer look?” Nodding vigorously, she erased the distance. Shoving me against the pole, Zoe tangled her fingers in my hair, kissing me so hard our teeth clicked together. My cock thickened, filling my briefs and challenging the strength of the material. Her hand slid over my bare skin, exploring the groove that led to my lower belly. “You probably hear this all the time,” she said, kissing my Adam's apple. “But you're sexy as hell, Huck.” I started to chuckle, but her palm crossed over my swollen hard-on. Instead of words, a low groan floated up and out. She shivered in response, caught up in my growing lust.

Gripping the brass, I fought down my urge to grab her and get what I wanted. Part of me wanted to see what Zoe would do. Smiling, I looked down on the top of her head. Zoe removed herself from my cock, leaving me dizzy for more contact. Her nails scratched across my ribs, hands brushing up my sides, then down to my hips. My erection flexed painful through my jeans. It needed to breathe, needed to be touched. Zoe was creating a vortex of hot desire in my loins. The fierce vibration of a text rocketed through my pocket, surprising us both. Glancing down at Zoe, I smiled faintly. “I'm not answering it, keep going.” Fucking fuck, who was that? Kaley, Gina, someone else? She didn't hesitate for long, her hand caressing the front of my pants. Zoe rubbed me through the material, making me arch and growl desperately. Damn, that felt fantastic. I wanted her to go further, and she knew I did. “Is that good?” she whispered. “Better than anything should feel.” Licking my lips, I stared down at her, my voice rasping. “Take my cock out, babe. Go ahead.” Shivering and pink, she popped the button and ground the zipper down. My gym shorts peeked at her, making her growl. “You're like one of those Russian dolls, clothes under clothes under clothes.”

“I never got a chance to change and—” The abrupt rumble of another text shut me up. That time, Zoe didn't mute her irritation. Eyeing me, she ripped my jeans down to my ankles with gusto. It was like she was saying, 'pay attention to me, got it?' It excited me, but I would have liked it more if I wasn't worrying about who the hell was trying to reach me. My clients were restless. But so what? I was, too. Gripping my shorts, I pulled them and my boxers down. My cock bounced into the air, heavy and engorged. Zoe inhaled sharply, nearly getting hit in the nose by it. I whispered, “Like what you see?” Nodding, she coiled her fingers around my base. Arousal fluttered in my belly. “I never got a good look at it last night,” she purred. “You're beautiful.” Beautiful. She'd called my dick beautiful. If I didn't think she meant it, I would have laughed. The haze in her stare was pure honesty, though. Zoe was entranced by my cock, her fingers brushing along the throbbing veins. Leaning on the pole, I thrust towards her, encouraging. “Put me in your mouth, doll. I'm going fucking crazy here. I want to feel your lips sucking me.” Her eyes were hooded, the corner of her mouth tucked into her teeth. Zoe knelt and acted the part of a coy virgin, but we both knew the truth. No virgin fucked like she did. The wall was down, that infuriating barrier

she'd constructed to keep me out because I—apparently —reminded her of her fucking ex. Resentment started to bubble up. Zoe swept the feelings away with her mouth. Her lips sheathed over my cock, tongue gliding under the edge of the head. “Aah,” I hissed, reaching my fingers into her hair. At my feet, even through the clothes and my foggy brain, my phone buzzed a third time. Zoe tightened, holding me on her tongue and halting. Then, as my nerves were peaking, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked at me with new vigor. She made it so easy to ignore my worries. “God, that's amazing.” Tension crept into my stomach, then deeper, my balls pulling up against me. I wanted to come, she was taking me there at breakneck speeds. A bead of sweat slid down my chest. The hot tingles were dragging me down, a flood that I couldn't escape. I didn't want to escape. I ached to bury my cock so far into Zoe's throat, I'd have her tasting my come for weeks. A guttural moan left my lips. In response, Zoe whimpered, the vibrations slipping down the length of my shaft. That was it, I couldn't hold back. Grabbing her scalp, I shoved me way past her gagreflex. Zoe coughed, but she didn't push me away. Her palm jacked me off, the other hand reaching low to stroke my balls.

Rolling my eyes in my skull, I banged the back of my head on the pole and gasped. Pleasure left me blind, ripping through as my cock pulsed in her mouth. Burst after burst of my come shot along her tongue, her neck thrumming as she swallowed. “Fucking hell, babe,” I said. Letting her go, I pulled out of her lips, the suction fighting to keep hold of me. Zoe filled her lungs to the brink, gasping for air. I hoped I hadn't hurt her, I knew I could get rough—I was often encouraged by my clients. None of them liked it soft or sweet. She looked up at me, wiped her mouth... and grinned. “I did a nice job, I take it?” she asked, her cheeks glowing red. Crouching, I sat on the floor in front of her. I brought her to me for a tangled kiss. She tasted like me, and I loved that. I wanted to possess this woman, to make every inch of her wear my mark so no one would dare touch her. Pulling back, I whispered, “Yeah. Nice is one way to put it.” She chuckled, forcing her way into my arms. I say forced, but really... Zoe fit so perfect. Her curves met my concave, letting her sink into my torso with ease. It was good. Everything was so fucking good. Next to us, my phone vibrated endlessly. Turning to concrete, Zoe didn't move. Then, with the utmost slowness, she leaned over and looked at my

jeans. I believe my heart stopped. “Who keeps calling you?” she asked, staring into my face. The pole was cool on my back. Or maybe, my skin had become ice. I didn't know. All I was sure of was that I'd been presented with a choice. I could open my mouth and lie to Zoe, I could talk my way out of explaining what was going on. I was a good liar. I had to be. 'Secrets are fine. But if your debt is going to change anything about how I feel about you—about what I'm doing? You have to tell me. Okay?' My own demands came back to haunt me. She was snuggled in my arms, waiting. Even if this ended with her slapping me and running... I had to do it. I had to spill the truth. “Zoe,” I said, grit shredding my voice. “I have to tell you something. You won't like it.” Sitting up, she disengaged and put an inch of space between us. That inch was as good as a damn mile. “What is it?” Scrubbing at my forehead, I leaned over and dug my phone out. Glancing sideways at her, I eyed my messages. Yup. Gina and Kaley, both of them wondering what had happened to me. For the first time, I felt ashamed about my job. I wanted to replace it with anger, but I couldn't. Not until I knew what she would think. Holding the phone tight, I set it on my thigh. Zoe stared at it. I sighed and said, “Do you still have my business card?”

Nodding, she went to go get it—I grabbed her elbow, halting her. “Huck?” she asked. “Don't bother. Do you remember what it said?” “Muscle for hire.” Doubt crossed her face. “You're starting to make me nervous.” Smiling bitterly, I chuckled. “Me too, sugar. Listen... you think I dance for a living, or that I play bodyguard, right?” Zoe didn't answer, she watched me expectantly. My lovely girl of fire and ice, the most pale of statues. Fuck it all. I needed to rip off the band-aid. “I'm not a stripper, not anymore.” Grabbing my phone, I held it out to her. She didn't touch it, didn't even look at it. Zoe was fixated on my frown. “I used to, and until Eliza called me, I hadn't performed for a party like that in a very long time. I don't pay the bills by dancing.” She still hadn't blinked. “Then how?” “Zoe...” My tongue had gone numb. I made it move. “I'm an escort.” Staring me down, she looked at my phone, then my eyes. Her reaction was too muted. I was waiting for fire, for hatred. Her neutral expression was unsettling. She said quietly, “An escort. You mean more than the 'go out on paid dates' kind of thing, don't you.” It wasn't a question. “Yeah. I do much more than that with my clients.” That time, she stared at my cellphone like it was a rattlesnake. When I tried to give it to her, she shook her

head. “I don't want to see. Really, I don't.” Letting my arm fall, I set the device on the floor. “What are you thinking right now? Are you surprised, angry?” “Surprised. For sure, I'm surprised.” Running her fingers through her hair, Zoe tried to smile—it failed. “You're not joking around. Huck, how long have you... and since you and I...?” I didn't expect the distress to rocket up inside me so fast. “No! I mean—no.” Why had that worked me up? I didn't need to explain or justify my life to her. To anyone. “The last girl I saw was before your birthday party. They're blowing my phone up because I haven't talked to any of them in several days.” A bit of light hit her eyes, dissipating with her new frown. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?” “I wanted to. I really did, but Eliza... she thought it would be too hard for you to handle. That I would be too hard to handle.” Curling my fingers, I made a fist, digging it into my thigh. “Fuck, that's no excuse. After I pushed you so hard to tell me what you were hiding, I kept this in my pocket. I'm so sorry, Zoe. Really.” She looked down at my hands. On reflex, I eased the tension. “What now, Huck?” Peering up into my face, she returned to the woman I knew. The girl with her emotions so wild and rampant. I preferred this to her sad silence. “Will you keep seeing them?”

And there it was. The question I'd been avoiding. I knew how she felt about selling herself, did she care if I did it, though? “Are you freaked out, disgusted? I know how much you hate Nehro, I know you're scared of his contract.” I was anxious to know what Zoe thought about me, now that it was in the open. No matter how much it could hurt, I had to know. I couldn't see into her head, and yet, I swear there were gears moving. Zoe had knotted her brow, thinking heavily about—something. I hoped it was about me. Let it be about me. Sitting up, like her spine had returned, she gave me a fragile smile. “I'm shocked, but I don't think you're disgusting. I hate Nehro because he wants to make me sleep with men for money. I... I'm assuming you like what you do, right?” Was it a trick question? Would she do that to me? Putting my hand on her shoulder, I lavished in immense relief when she didn't wrench away. “The brutal truth? Yes, I love what I do.” Risking my ego, I grinned and said, “And I'm good at it.” It worked, Zoe actually laughed. She set her palm on my wrist, squeezing lightly. “I might not have handled this so well if I hadn't had my eyes opened recently.” What does that mean? I wondered. Zoe pressed on and said, “I want to make something clear. I don't care if you're an escort... but I don't honestly

know if I can sleep with you while you're doing that with others.” Flinching, she looked away. “It's selfish, I know. I just—the thing with Reese, it was only a month ago. I'm terrified of being cheated on. I want to trust you, but I don't know that I trust myself to handle this yet.” Gravel and vinegar sank into my stomach. The dismay she created was paralyzing me into silence. Zoe was asking so much of me—no. No, she's not. She kept giving me outs. With the fighting, with this, she always offered me the option of walking away. It was my choice if I went forward. She gave me the power. I just didn't know what to do with it. Pulling her to me, I kissed her forehead and chuckled. “You don't understand. Technically, right now, you are my client.” Cupping her chin, I peered into her sapphire irises, never wavering in my intensity. I needed her to believe me. “Zoe, you're paying me to use my body. I'm fighting in that ring in exchange for your money. Ten years...” I flashed my teeth, watched her nostrils flare. “You'll be the longest booking I've ever had.” And that was how I did it. That was how I switched my brain and my desires around, creating a way to validate how I was choosing to spend my time. Money be damned, I'd figure something out. As long as I served Zoe... I would see no one else.

And as long as I saw no one else? Zoe would never put her walls up between us again.

- Chapter Twelve Huxton

Staring at my phone, I watched it go to voicemail. It had been a few days since I'd come clean to Zoe. We'd spent a lot of time together since then, talked on the days we didn't, but today... today she hadn't picked up once. Eyeing the missed calls, I wondered if I was getting too obsessive. Shoving my phone back in my bag, I finished changing for the gym. Her silence combined with no news about the next fight was making me antsy. I had to thank the sudden free time, though. I was getting a lot of training in. And man, had I missed that. The small gym was perfect, the right amount of quiet and intensity. When other guys showed up, they went about their business and didn't goof off. I'd even sparred with a few of them briefly. Now, with sweat staining my shirt, I pounded on the bag and took out my frustrations. I wanted to see Zoe —needed to see Zoe. I wondered if this feeling would ever fade. It was as if the addictive side of my brain that sought out every pussy on the planet was honing in on just one; hers.

Noise floated to my left. Glancing over, I saw a group of three guys entering the room. They were dressed and ready, quintessential MMA looking dudes. And I knew one of them. Reese stared at me where I was hitting the bag. Zoe had said he trained here, but it was the first time I'd seen him on the floor. We both stopped what we were doing, sizing the other up. I knew I was grinning, I couldn't help it. The dark bruise on his nose from where I'd busted it a few nights ago was a delicious visual. The discoloration had spread under his eyes, aiding in giving him a miserable glare. A glare that was fixed ever so strictly on me. Lifting an arm, I waggled my fingers and smiled wider. Reese mumbled something to one of his companions. Stretching his broad shoulders, he came my way. I faced him, patiently waiting. “Hey man,” he said, chomping the words like an alligator. “Crazy seeing you here. Small world.” “Yeah, small world.” I nodded at his bruise. “Healing up nice, I see.” His smile tightened. “Yup. Almost good as new.” His attention rolled over me, then side to side, searching. “Zoe's not here with you today?” Zoe. I hated when he said her name. Leaning back, I folded my arms calmly. “Nope. Just me, practicing my swing.”

“Smart move. You'd benefit from some strict training.” There was a subtle threat in his words. Chuckling, I said, “True. Next time, I'll be able to bust your face even harder.” One of the guys with him started to step forward, riled up by my comment. Reese put out his arm, stopping the man. Hard, deep-brown eyes glared at me. “You've got a cocky attitude, huh?” “Guilty as charged.” “I hate assholes with big mouths,” he said. “I'd love to shatter that stupid grin of yours.” “How about I give you that opportunity?” Jerking my head at the boxing ring, I unfolded my arms. Reese was considering my offer, I could tell by how he peered at my stance, gauging how serious I was. Finally, he shrugged into his ears. “Nah, not here. When I tear you apart, I want her to be there, watching me do it.” “Why the fuck do you even want to be around Zoe?” I asked, baffled by his misplaced cruelty. “You cheated on her, man. She should want to see you getting fucked up.” “She told you that? What else did she tell you?” Reese pushed his hands through his hair, telegraphing his attempt to act casual. Was he trying to get me to spill something? Like I was that stupid. “I know enough.”

Amazingly, he smirked. “I don't think you do. You broke my nose because of what Nehro told you, right? Because you got all offended and decided you were too good to take money for risking your neck for that girl?” I struggled to keep my hands down, I was eager to close them around Reese's throat. He flicked his eyes to my hands, then to my face. “Yeah. I can see the hate you have for me. But you're misplacing it. Sure, I cheated on Zoe—I won't deny that. But I also helped her, more than anyone else would have.” He caught me by surprise, my mouth plummeting out of its sharp scowl. “How the hell did you help her? You abandoned her.” “She didn't tell you.” It was a crisp statement. “You think you're so noble and shit, fighting for this girl, and you don't even know a thing about her. You might be some god damn angel, man... but trust me. Zoe isn't.” Reese turned away, his companions following him like they were a string of shit from a goldfish's ass. I was too busy resisting just grabbing him by the shoulders and demanding he tell me what he was talking about to appreciate the hilarious visual. Zoe was no angel? So what? I wasn't, either. Who the hell was in this day and age? But his words got under my skin. They dug at me, sinking in tiny claws until I paid attention to them. Reese

knew something I didn't. I could insist he tell me, bust his nose again, or... I can go to the source. Heading into the locker room, I changed into my street clothes, snatching out my phone. Zoe hadn't called me back. No longer debating on my next move, I dialed her number. That endless ringing was pure torture. Not leaving her a message, I stomped through the gym. Reese was machine-gun punching a bag while one of the men held it steady. As I passed, even at a distance, we locked eyes. If I broke all his teeth, would his foul smile bother me less? I need to talk to her. Maybe I was driven by curiosity, or perhaps it was just the side of me that had started to treat Zoe like she was my water and air. I needed to be around her. Fuck anyone for judging me. I was so used to being able to indulge in my desires. This ache was greater than any of them. Climbing on my bike outside, I lifted my phone again. The next person I called actually answered. “Hello?” Eliza said, her voice muffled by the cacophony of street noise around me. “Hey, quick question.” I willed myself to sound steady. “Have you talked to Zoe today?”

She yawned, and I wondered if she was relaxing outside. It was sunny, but the bite of December was finally growing teeth. “Sure, earlier today. She was heading out, said I wouldn't see her for dinner because she'd be working at five. Why, what's wrong?” Glancing at my phone, I saw the time. It's already after four. “Can you give me the address?” I couldn't remember the name of the bar that Zoe, apparently, waitressed at when she wasn't sneaking around to go to the Dog House. “You sound stressed. I'll meet you at her bar, we can catch up, okay?” Chewing the inside of my cheek, I hesitated. “Deal, but you'll have to buy me a drink.” Getting the address from Eliza, I took one last look at the gym. Inside, Reese was preparing his body for the next match. The man was fit, and I didn't doubt he was strong. But if he ever got in the ring with me... I would be the one tearing him the fuck apart.

Eliza was waiting for me. Not just waiting, she had a beer in one hand, sliding it over without question.

Clinking hers on mine, she took a long pull of it, then said, “So. Congratulations on fucking Zoe Lillith.” Flushing, I leaned close to her and made myself smile. There was no humor in it. “Thank you, I'll take my award, now, please.” Rolling her eyes, she wagged a finger. “Haha, very funny. Listen, you know why I'm mad. It's going to kill that girl when she finds out what you do for a living.” “I already told her.” Sitting up, Eliza gawked at me dubiously. “You're joking. No, god, you're not. Holy hell. Huck, you really told her? What did she say?” “She didn't slap me, amazingly.” Sipping the beer, I remembered the sadness in Zoe that had finally shifted to acceptance. “She wasn't happy, either. But I laid it out for her. I don't know, maybe she's more open than you thought, definitely less uptight. Why else would she not flip out and run away screaming?” Eliza put her chin on her fist. “I might have something to do with that.” I blinked. “What?” “A couple days ago, I told Zoe that I used to be an escort.” “What the hell prompted you to tell her?” Going pink in the cheeks, Eliza fidgeted. “Disclosure time. I've been camming for awhile.” I scooted my chair closer. “That explains why you weren't calling me to guard you anymore. Shit, Zoe

walked in on that?” She laughed half-heartedly. “It wasn't my finest moment.” Drinking deeply, Eliza eyed the ceiling in thought. “I might have gone a little ballistic on her, but I was freaking out. I thought she'd hate me for doing it, and then things got off track and I mentioned I used to fool around for money. Turns out, our sweet Zoe is sweet enough not to judge me—or us, apparently—for our pasts.” Soaking up her words, I turned my bottle in a small circle. “I wonder why that is?” What makes her so understanding? I was curious, but it was something only Zoe herself could answer. Glancing around the bar, I scanned everyone I could see. “You said she was working, right? So where is she?” “I don't know. Maybe she hit traffic?” Shaking my head, I waved at a waitress. “No. She uses the subway, how could traffic slow her down? Excuse me,” I said, the young woman approaching with a pearly smile. “We're looking for our friend, Zoe. Is she working right now?” Tapping her cheek, the dark-haired waitress hummed. “Zoe? Yeah, she is, but not until eight. Can I help you for now, get you anything?” Eliza and I shared a look. She spoke first. “No, thank you. We're good.”

“Actually,” I said, gulping down the rest of my drink. “I'll take another beer. This might be a long wait.” Nodding, the waitress skipped away. I pointed at Eliza, eyes narrowing. “You're sure she said five?” “Positive.” “Fuck,” I growled, rubbing my forehead. “Why would she lie?” 'You don't even know a thing about her.' Reese's comment had my insides squirming. Eliza flipped her hair over her shoulder, playing with the long strands. “This is so weird. I hope she's okay, let me try to call her.” Sliding out her phone, she dialed in a blur. Both of us waited, holding our breaths. “No answer?” I asked, knowing what she'd say. Nodding, Eliza tucked the phone in her purse. “It rang a bit, so her phone isn't turned off. She just isn’t answering.” No matter how many times we each called her, Zoe never picked up. I'd gone through four beers, my buzz strengthening, by the time eight o'clock rolled around. On the dot, her hair tied up in a knot and dressed in black pants and a purple work-shirt, Zoe swayed through the doors. She spotted us instantly, eyes becoming wide plates in her skull. Lifting a hand, I waved, having trouble smiling. “I'll... give you two some space,” Eliza said, shoving her chair out.

Zoe watched her go, moving to stand across from me warily. She kept the table between us. “Uh, hey.” “Hey yourself,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “Want to tell me where you were all day?” Fidgeting with her sleeves, she darted her eyes from my face, to the beer bottles. “How long were you guys waiting for me?” “Long enough. Answer the question.” In front of me, this confusing woman slumped. She was already defeated, and none of the angry words I'd prepared for her had even come out. My frustration turned to dust. God, I hated seeing her like this. My hands went for hers, catching them—making her jump. “Zoe, please. I won't get upset. I promise. I just want to know where you were.” I was worried. I didn't say it, but I imagine she saw the proof in my stare. “Huck, I'm seriously sorry. I just...” Rubbing my thumbs over the tops of her hands, I lowered my tone. “You want to trust me, right?” She nodded slowly. “Then listen, babe. If this trust thing is going to work, it goes both ways. I need to know what you were doing, why you were avoiding me.” “I wasn't avoiding you.” Clear and crisp, her blue irises watched me. “I was busy with something.” “Busy with what?” Breathing in until her chest filled, Zoe frowned. She studied our hands, then clasped mine tight. “I can't tell

you, not here. But I'll... show you. Tomorrow, I'll take you where I was. You just have to do one thing for me.” Tugging her around the table, I stopped when she was touching my knees. I wanted to feel her, I was ravenous for contact. “Tell me, and I'll do it.” With a fragile little smile, Zoe said, “You remember that brand of truffles?” Blinking, I wrinkled my forehead. “Yeah, sure. Hazelnut.” “Tomorrow, before you come by my place... pick up a bag of those.”

- Chapter Thirteen Zoe Staring out the window, I twisted my fingers in the bottom of my jacket. I'd been dressed and ready to go for over an hour. Huck wasn't late, I was just beyond nervous. What am I thinking? I can't do this. Pacing the tiles, I studied my feet, hid my hands in my pockets. If I folded into a tiny ball, tried hard enough, could I vanish into thin air? Stop being a coward. Telling yourself things like that should work. It never does. “Hey,” Eliza said, standing in the kitchen doorway. “You okay?” Peeking at her over my shoulder, I smiled softly. “Not at all.” She swept into the room, looking beautiful as ever. Eliza had a natural air of—I don't know the word. Grace? Something like that. She just moved and spoke and acted as if nothing could ever touch her. No one could hurt her. Though... I knew that wasn't true. Just recently, I'd scratched my way accidentally into her history. Eliza had a past that she feared people would judge her for. A past just like Huxton's. And in a way... a past just like mine.

She stood beside me, staring out the window at the curb. “Waiting for Huck?” she asked, knowing the answer. I still nodded, anyway. “You're anxious about something.” “No, no.” Pushing her eyebrows up, she looked pointedly over my outfit. “Then why do you have your jacket on already?” Putting my fingers against the top clasp by my neck, I smiled shyly. “Clever. Okay, yes. I'm nervous. Today, I'm... doing something I'm not sure about.” Eliza looked past me, back out the window. “Something that you're scared to show Huck?” “Insanely scared.” “I don't think you need to worry about what he'll think.” My lips crinkled together. “What?” Sliding me a sideways glance, Eliza sounded like she was musing out loud. “Well, I don't know what you're doing, exactly, but... if you're scared, imagine how terrified he must have been when he told you what he does for a living.” So he told her that I know. It wasn't that shocking. They were friends, it would have come up eventually. It also meant that she had known he was an escort. I felt a little dumb, but I'd only just connected those dots. “You think he was scared?”

“Of course he was! If I was freaking out, how could he not?” Pausing, she drummed her fingernails on the windowsill. “Why...” “Why?” I prompted. “Why are you alright with it? I mean, sorry, not trying to sound judgmental.” Lifting her palms, she waved her fingers in surrender. “I just... I thought you would be horrified by my news, and you did seem shocked. But you're sleeping with Huck, right?” My blush went all the way to my hairline. I wasn't embarrassed at the reality, I just didn't appreciate her blunt observation. “You don't know everything about me, Eliza. I don't blame people for their pasts.” She set her forehead on the glass. Her reflection was much like her voice; frail, hardly there. “This isn't his past, it's his present. He still has clients, Zoe.” A motorcycle rumbled loudly. Both of us looked, spotting Huck when he rolled up. He didn't turn the bike off. Clearly, he was waiting for me to go to him. I appreciated that, it was a nice escape from Eliza's probing. I had a suspicion that she was... envious. She'd enjoyed escorting, or some parts of it, she'd said. But in the end, she'd quit. Did she feel it was unfair that Huck could get away with putting his dirty laundry in front of me, having his cake and eating it too? Eliza couldn't know how desperate I was to prove that the past didn't matter. Mistakes, flaws... couldn't we

be forgiven for them? Outside, the Harley snarled; expectant. Heading for the door, I glanced back at Eliza. She was staring at me, so many questions in the air between us. Lifting my chin, I left with one final sentence; “According to him, at least for now... the only client he has is me.”

Hugging his torso, I wrapped myself around Huck and never wanted to let go. I'd told him where we were headed. He'd nodded, speeding us to the location far faster than I could reach on my own. That was part of what took me so long yesterday; public transport is a bitch. The whole sky was the color of ash, thick and waiting to drench us. We hadn't had rain in sometime, but I thought, if it fell today, it'd be appropriate. Huxton slowed his bike, turning into the small parking lot. We weren't far from the bustle of Beverly Hills, and I could see the confusion plain on his face. “This is it?” he asked, staring up at the beige building. Climbing down from behind him, I said, “Yeah, we're here.” Am I honestly going to do this? It didn't seem possible to turn back, but if I just faced Huck and

pleaded with him, said I'd changed my mind, maybe... maybe he'd listen. Twisting, I gazed up at his intense green eyes. They ripped the ability to speak from my tongue, made it so I couldn't find my footing. His hands curled around the small of my back. “Zoe, it'll be fine. I can tell you're freaking out, but really... believe me. It's okay.” It was nice of him to say that, but he had no idea. My lips went up on one side, then the other matched, like I'd just remembered how to make myself smile. “Did you bring the truffles?” Digging into his pocket, he handed me the bag. Taking a single, slow breath, I led us towards the front doors. When we got close, Huck started searching for a sign. He wanted to know where we were. This place liked privacy, so unfortunately for him, he'd have to wait to learn. Inside the foyer, there was a simple, curved desk. Everything had a sanitary shine. Christmas decoration stuck here and there, a tree lighting up the corner. There were two people in chairs, facing away, wrapped in blankets. The man behind the counter smiled at me, eyes lighting with recognition. His tag said 'Hershel,' but I already knew that. “Miss Lillith, you're back so soon. Is something wrong?”

“No, everything's fine.” Tossing a quick glance at Huck, who had stuck his hands in his jeans and looked too casual for the atmosphere, I said, “We'll be going straight up. Is it okay?” Sliding me a clipboard, Hershel's smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Of course. She'll be very happy to see you.” Swallowing loudly, I scribbled my name down. “Thanks.” Motioning to Huxton, I guided him into the elevator. It was wide, roomy. Still, we stood hip to hip. It was a silent ride. I think he was beginning to understand that this place was... important. The doors slid open with a 'ding.' Turning, I hefted the truffles, let the weight of them center me. I wasn't sure what was about to happen. I couldn't predict how Huck would take the news. Sweat soaked my palms. Wiping my hands on my jacket did nothing. “Here we are,” I croaked, stopping in front of a door. The hallway was quiet, a single woman at the end rolling a cart. Looking at Huck, I tried to see into his head. He wasn't smiling, he'd put on an expression that welled with empathy. “Are you okay?” he whispered. Was I okay? How could I be okay, with what I was about to tell him? He has to know. It's only right. And, when it was over, if he thought I was as terrible as I did... maybe he

would leave. The idea turned my stomach and made me ill. I never answered him. Tucking my chin, I grabbed the handle and opened the door. She was perched on the edge of her bed, facing the window. The light made her white hair look like a halo, and to me, she was saintly enough to deserve it. They'd dressed her in a long sweater, soft baby blue. Everything about this woman was gentle. The sound of the door alerted her to us. Turning enough to show her profile, she spotted me. Her smile went ear to ear, eyes twinkling with life—with vibrancy —even if so much of what was behind her blue gaze was jumbled. “Zoe,” she said, motioning to me. “Oh, you've come to see me! It's been so long!” Pain crept into my heart. So long? No. It was just yesterday. “Hi, Gram,” I said, moving to sit beside her. She curled her frail arms around my neck, kissing my cheek. Her skin was papery, yet still flushed for a woman in her seventies. Embracing her firmly, I looked over her head. Huck was staring at us, confusion and doubt leaving deep grooves in his skin. Carefully, I pulled out of my grandma's arms. “Gram, I brought you something.” Offering the truffles, I enjoyed a spark of joy at how delighted she looked.

“Oh! Hazelnut! My favorite.” Chuckling, she took the bag and opened it. “Now, I'd share, but you know you're allergic.” I laughed like I always did when she said that. Chewing the candy, she finally noticed Huxton. Her eyes flashed, concern burning bright. “Oh, who... Reese? Is that Reese, dear?” I caught the corner of her mouth trembling. Both Huck and I flinched. Putting my palm on her knee, I shook my head. “No. Gram, this is a friend of mine. His name is Huxton.” “Huxton,” she said doubtfully. Squinting, she offered him a truffle. “Are you allergic? You musn't eat this if you are. You'll turn all red and puffy, like poor Zoe did when she was little.” The grin I loved returned to his face. “I'm not allergic, thank you.” Taking the little ball, he popped it in his mouth. He was watching me, asking so many things with his stare. Patting Gram's knee, I said, “I'll be right back. I need to talk to Huxton outside. We'll be quick.” Nodding, she waved her frail hand. Again, she watched Huck with a flutter of nerves. There was tension behind her eyes, I'd never seen her look so uneasy. “You need to be careful,” she said to him. “Very careful. Not too fast.” My jaw went slack. Confused, I looked between them both. “It's okay Gram, we'll be careful.” What the heck

did she mean by that? Did she think Huck and I were... what, getting together too fast? I couldn't have said she was wrong. Everything in my life was moving at breakneck speeds, these days. She watched us until we shut the door. In the silent hall, Huck turned to me. His lips didn't move. Leaning on the wall, I closed my eyes. “That was my grandmother.” He waited. When I said nothing else, he nodded. “Okay.” Touching my cheek, where she'd kissed me, I sighed. “You noticed something was wrong with her, right?” Huck shifted in place, uncomfortable. I didn't blame him. “Is it like Alzheimer's? She said she hadn't seen you in forever, but you did come here yesterday... right?” “Yeah. I did. I come and visit her once a week or so.” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I didn't know how to begin. “Gram has... brain damage.” “That's awful,” he whispered. “From what?” Lifting my chin, I smiled sadly. “From me.” Huck transformed. I had a front seat to the show. His sympathy rolled into bafflement, then it took a hard corner and became disbelief. Surely, disgust would come next. I couldn't handle it, I closed my eyes. Seeing his reaction was too hard. He asked gently, “Zoe, how could you have caused that?”

Breathing through my nose, the air came out in a rush. “I'll let you in on a secret. Not that long ago, I used to be an awful, awful person. I didn't give a shit about anyone but myself. Life was hard, everyone always says that. But for me... it was like, if I didn't do something to numb it all, I couldn't deal.” Risking a look upwards, I studied Huck's knotted eyebrows. He was listening intently. I pressed on, saying, “I didn't even have a good reason. Sure, my parents divorced, and I hated how they fought, how they wanted me to choose between them. But so what? How pathetic is that?” Huck was still as stone. “I just wanted someone to care about me, for once. The first guy... I guess I was sixteen. Typical jerk, but he did it for me. He offered me attention. An escape.” Smiling bitterly, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Fuck, I hate this story. I hate my past. I'll sum it up; I was a party girl. I drank and stuck whatever I could into my system.” Shivering, I hugged myself, recalling the needles. Coming down off of everything cold-turkey had been a struggle. It had been six months since I'd quit, and even now, I still felt a ghost of a craving at times. Reese had really given me hell for quitting, he'd called me boring. That was probably why he'd cheated on me.

I said flatly, “Asshole after fucking asshole, none of those guys cared about me. I thought they did, but... I know better, now. My parents didn't want to deal with me, they said I was out of control.” Turning, I put my cheek on the door. “But my Gram? She took me in. She wanted better for me. She believed in me, even if I didn't.” Huxton reached out, cupping my shoulders. I winced at the contact, so wrapped up in my memories that it was hard to battle down my urge to run. He hissed through his teeth. “Zoe, calm down. You're not a bad person for partying, or for messing with the wrong guys. Lots of people do that.” Setting my jaw tight, I met his stare calmly. “I know. I haven't gotten to the worst part of the story yet.” He stood taller, not releasing me. Deciding to continue, no matter what Huck did or said, I licked my bottom lip. “She really did try to get me to stop. I still didn't, I just began hiding it from her. I wanted her to be proud of me, but I was too weak to quit. I was dating Reese at the time, he loved going out and being nuts. He was so free, I guess I admired how little he cared what others thought of him. Now I hate that part of him.” Remembering that I'd compared Huck to Reese, I frowned. Huck said nothing. I looked to the side, whispering, “Sorry.” “It's fine. Go on.”

Nodding, I said, “Because I was hiding it from her... I wasn't ready for her phone call. It was kind of late, and I was already fucked up. She phoned me, so I stumbled outside the house I was partying at. Gram needed me to come with her. She was a good driver, but she wasn't strong enough to carry this big desk she'd seen someone giving away online. She really wanted it—she used to be a writer.” My voice fractured. “Smart as a whip. It was her only chance to get it before they'd hand it off to someone else. Well, I panicked.” My blood was pumping with the memory. I could hear the tremor in my voice. “She needed someone, and it couldn't be me. I called Reese. She knew him, we'd been dating for over a year by then. He was... angry, he wanted to come to the party with me. I told him, just go to her house, let her drive you to wherever and move the desk, it'd be fast.” Huck sensed my nerves, squeezing me gently. “You're trembling.” “Of course I am. I hate this story. I can't believe I'm telling you.” Willing my lungs to work better, I gathered myself. “Reese went with her. I went back to getting wasted. His phone call came at seven-fifteen at night. I remember it exactly.” How could I forget? “Reese was freaking out. He said there'd been an accident, I needed to go to the hospital.” Tension slammed into my temples. Reaching up, I held my skull, grimacing. “What's wrong?” Huck asked.

“This is killing me. I'm exposing how terrible I am. I let my selfishness get my grandmother nearly killed, Huck. I should have told her the truth, I should have never asked Reese to go... he was hurt, too. I thought, back then, how thankful I was that he'd been with her when she'd crashed the car.” Blinking, my tears welled up. I forced them away. “He pulled her out of the wreck, called the ambulance. Because of me, she's like this... because of him, she was saved.” Reese. I'd had so many reasons to want to believe in him. “Even if he saved her, that doesn't mean he gets to treat you like shit,” he said urgently. There was anger in his piercing greens. “I know that now. But at the time, with everything... Huck, I was terrified she was going to die. When they told me how hurt she was, that she would need special treatment to even have a chance at recovering fully... I went with my gut.” A harsh chuckle escaped me. “My gut said Reese could be trusted. That he loved me. That he cared. And that was why I let him take me to meet Nehro.” This was the memory I loathed most. Understanding flashed through Huck's face. He let me go, staring around the place he now recognized as a special care facility. “Your debt. This is what it paid for.” Tasting bile, I said, “Correct. This is why I'm doing everything. This is what Nehro has over my head.”

Turning towards the room behind me, I lowered my voice. “He knows where she is. He could kill her if I tried to run away, and he knows I know that. It's my fault. All of this. And that's why I have to keep her safe. I'll pay off that loan... and I'll do it any way I have to.” “That contract is bullshit.” My memory burned, thinking of how Huck had tossed that man, Kit, onto Eliza's front lawn. 'Look—it's just how it is. Okay? She owes me the money. She has to pay, or else.' Kit had said that. Huck had stood proud and declared otherwise. “That day, my birthday party,” I whispered. “I think... I saw you stand up for Eliza and wondered if it was possible someone might do that for me.” Looking into his eyes, I wanted to touch him. I didn't. How could I ask for more from him? “I have to fix this. I'll endure the pain... and if no one else will stand by my side, I'll accept my fate. I'll do what Nehro wants. It's my sacrifice to make.” I was so tired of being someone who constantly needed saving. His fingers trailed to my neck, clasping gently, then pulling me against him. I gasped, wondering how he'd known I needed him to do that. “Zoe,” he growled, sending my goosebumps jumping. “How many times do I have to tell you?” Forcing my face near his, so that I saw the flecks of ebony in his eyes, he whispered, “I will

fight for you. Me. Stop treating me like I'll disappear any god damn second.” I stuttered. “What? I'm not—” “You are. I can see it when you look at me. The edge of your sad smiles... you still think I'll abandon you like Reese did. That I'll see through you and hate what's there. Well,” he said, brushing his nose on mine. “I see all of you. I know the truth. And I'm still right fucking here, wanting to kiss you and hold you and rip apart the men who have made you cry.” Reaching up, I rubbed at the wetness near my eyes. “I don't cry.” Huck grinned, his tone husky. “I've heard you cry out, that's close enough.” The shame inside of me was crumbling, stampeded over by my throbbing heart. Huxton Blake was filling me up so that there was no room for self-hate. What had I done to deserve a man so wonderful? I didn't have that answer, but I did know one thing. When Huck said he would rip apart the men who had made me cry, he had never been more serious.

- Chapter Fourteen Huxton

Nearly a week went by before the next phone call came. I was sitting beside Zoe when it happened, and not so innocently. Her head was on my inner thigh, and I was wrapping her hair around my cock, just enjoying the look and the feel. She heard the ringing, reached for her jeans. Digging the phone out, she scowled at the number, giving away the caller. “Hello?” Sitting against my headboard, I stretched my arms over my head. Nehro was on my bad side already. Interrupting our fun just made my distaste for him grow. Zoe nodded her head, glancing at me. “Fine, we'll be there.” Not saying goodbye, she ended the call. I motioned for her, and she got the hint, crawling back into my lap. “Nehro needs us to come by tonight, eight on the dot.” “Isn't that a little early?” Wrinkling her nose, she wrapped her arms around my waist and nuzzled my chest. “Yeah, but look on the bright side. It means we can get out of there and do something fun.”

“Fun?” I asked, trailing a finger over her bare shoulder. I moved lower, enjoying the soft curve of her hip. Tiny goosebumps lifted where I went. “Isn't this fun?” Her eyes twinkled with heat. “I meant like a movie.” “I'd rather watch you for hours, that's almost the same.” Pushing her over, I bent in, stealing a kiss that went on so long that my lungs burned. Breaking away, I reveled in how dazed she was. Those pink lips were slightly open, tempting me back for more. “You're amazing, babe,” I chuckled, tracing the edge of her ear. “I never thought one woman could be so captivating.” Blinking, Zoe watched me with new interest. “Can I ask something?” “Anything.” Adjusting on the bed, she rested on her side, giving me a view of her delicious, naked tits. “Your clients... did you like being with them, the way you do with me?” My wince ran right over my mouth. I couldn't hide my reaction. Shit. “Zoe, I don't think you want to go down this road.” Digging her nails into the sheets, she smiled coyly. “You think I'll get jealous.” “Weren't you jealous when you thought Eliza and I could be more than friends?” Gently, she gave me a shove. “That's not the same. And it wasn't really jealousy, I was just weirded out about you guys knowing each other and only telling me

after my party.” She pursed her lips, and I wanted to kiss her again. “Escorting, is that how you two met?” Laughing, I gave Zoe a once over. “Sort of. She was friends with another girl that I played security for. One night, this guy wanted two girls at once... so she called in Eliza.” “Huh, and you just hit it off?” “Not quite,” I said, smiling at the memory. “I think she didn't like me at first. Weird, right?” I winked, and Zoe just made a face. “Anyway, the dickhead got too handsy with them. I heard them scream, but by the time I got inside the room, Eliza had knocked the guy out with her shoe. After that, I had to get to know her. Once I bought her a drink, she warmed up.” Zoe giggled, her fingers slipping across the bed to graze my shoulder. “Sounds like Eliza. Did any girls ever do that to you?” “What, hit me with a shoe?” “Get too handsy,” she said, rolling her eyes. Smirking devilishly, I climbed over until she was under me, my hands on either side of her face. Already, she was breathing faster. “No, not my clients. No one could ever be too handsy with me. I only give them what they ask for.” She licked her lips. “What do they ask for?” Hesitating, I watched her closely. “You're really sure about this?”

“I'm fine. I don't care what you did with them. Beyond being curious, I mean.” With new appreciation, I let my eyes eat up the girl in my bed. Zoe had a past full of wildness and excitement. She'd been with men similar to me... except entirely fucking different. I was much better. She knew the kind of man I was—that I could be. It was why she gorged herself on my tattoos and my foul mouth. And, from what I'd seen, she didn't shy away from my insatiable side. My roughness. Was she really not unsettled by my stories? Zoe. Whenever I thought I understood her, I found another layer. Holding her wrists, I nuzzled her cheek, my breath hot on her skin. “You want to know what they asked for, what they begged me to do to them?” I licked the smooth corner of her throat, felt her rush of heat. “You want to understand why they paid me as much as they did just to get a taste of my cock?” “Yes,” she blurted, trying to reach my mouth. I sat up, not giving her a chance. Her irritated mewl was adorable. “Huck, come on.” “You said you wanted to know.” Tightening my fingers, I pushed her into the bed so hard the springs squeaked. “I'll show you, babe. I'll fuck you and I won't charge you a dime, but you have to tell me you really

want this. I'm not wasting my skills on you if you're not into it.” Nerves scattered through her wide eyes. “I doubt you'd do anything I wasn't into.” Growling low in my throat, I settled my weight on her, rubbed my firm cock over her belly. “I like a challenge. Alright. Last chance, you up for some fun, or are you going to back down when it gets too much?” Her lashes covered most of her eyes, but her smile was confident. “Seriously, you're so cocky. Go ahead.” She licked her lips. “Show me what too much is, Mr. Romantic.” “Right now, I'm not Mr. Romantic.” I darted downwards, murmuring into her ear. “Tonight, I'm Huxton Blake, and you're my client. Hope you don't regret this, love. I know I won't.” Zoe tried to muffle her whimper, but she couldn't hide her excitement. Fuck, I was just as ready. Adjusting myself, I saw some pre-come sticking to her skin. We were both entirely naked, the view fantastic. My palm ran down to her throat. “I'm going to get something. Don't fucking move, or this ends here.” Swallowing, she held steady, listening to my threat. She didn't want this to stop, she was into it. Maybe that would change, but the more time I spent with this girl, the more I thought she was explosive; combustible. She was waiting for me to light the fucking match.

Digging in my closet, I slid my bag of tricks out. I kept it stocked, everything inside clean and ready to use. I was always prepared for what someone wanted to do. Right now, I was going to do what I wanted to do. It occurred to me, as I unzipped the bag, that I'd never gotten to before. I always worked at pleasing my clients, and of course, that made me happy. But getting to indulge my perverse desires with someone who was wriggling in my bed, a blank canvas... well. It was turning me on rapidly. When I looked back at Zoe, I smiled devilishly. Her stare was transparent, burning with lust. “Were you staring at my ass?” I teased. She smiled, shrugging. “Guilty.” I held the bag high, waved it. “Still sure?” Her chest rose, demanding more air. “Yeah. Still sure. But I'm getting antsy.” “That's part of the fun,” I chuckled. Putting the heavy toolbag on the table by the bed, near her head, I knelt close to her. My nose grazed her cheek, sliding lower until I kissed her jugular. It was pulsing madly. My tongue took a trip to her collar bone. Further, rolling to her breast, circling a peach colored nipple. The moan she shivered with sent a jolt through my cock. Zoe was so open with her responses, I was obsessed with causing more of them. Reaching into the bag, I pulled out the blindfold. Zoe lifted an eyebrow. “Isn't that a little vanilla?” she asked,

bemused. Clicking my tongue, I straddled one of her legs. My cock bounced off of her thigh, and she shot her attention there, unable to look away. “It'll be fun,” I said, slipping it over her eyes. Lowering a palm, I slapped her hip— making her squeak. “See? That didn't even hurt, but if you had seen it coming...” I spanked her again, the other side. Zoe squirmed, filling my shaft with a rush of blood. Kissing her abruptly, I bit her bottom lip. She hissed, curling her fingers into my shoulders. Her ass rocked up, pussy grinding against me. My eyes fluttered, desire making me heady. “What's wrong? Can't hold still?” I asked, grabbing her wrists. “Am I supposed to hold still?” she whined, wiggling desperately. “That's impossible. I can't.” “Good to know, babe.” Smoothly, I shoved her hands over her head. From the bag, I dug out what I wanted. What good escort didn't have cuffs? Zoe twitched, then froze as I attached her hands to my headboard. “You just cuffed me,” she said in disbelief. Breathing in deeply, I languished at the sight of her. Her perfect body was stretched on my blankets, skin like new moonlight. There were freckles on her cheeks, her nose, and across her shoulders. She'd shaved herself down, allowing me to see the dampness winking between her thighs as she squirmed.

Gripping my cock, I gave myself a few lazy jerks. She couldn't see, that was fine. “Did you know I have a client who likes to be tied down, to have me shoot my come all over her chest, but never let her orgasm?” Drawing her knees up, Zoe whined. “Fuck, don't do that to me. I'll go nuts if I can't come.” “That's the idea.” Sliding her legs apart, I laid between them. Her pink cunt was inches away. Putting my thumbs on either side of her, I spread her lower lips, made her bloom like a flower. Her clit was glowing, swollen and excited. “Fuck, you're soaked,” I whispered. “No more of this,” she growled, yanking at the cuffs. “Fuck me, I don't want to play anymore, Huck.” “You don't?” Running my fingertips along her slit, I endured a rush of heat as she trembled. “God, you're excited. I think you want more. Are you ready for what I'll do next? For how I plan to make your cunt cream itself?” Curling her toes, Zoe breathed out loudly. “Holy hell, your clients like when you talk like that to them?” Kissing just above her clit, I mumbled, “Don't you?” Her answer was a new whimper. That was good enough, for now. From my bag, I grabbed a bottle of lube. Setting it on the bed, I went back to lapping at her pussy. Zoe gasped, arching into my mouth. I let her, my hands cupping her ass cheeks so I could fill myself with her.

Rolling my fingers down, I circled her entrance, never going inside. She was done holding back, her voice husky, breaking up on the corners. “Fuck me, put your fingers in me, just give me something!” Wrapping my lips around her clit, I kissed it, grinned. “Not yet, doll. But soon. I have plans for you, first.” Hooking her feet over my shoulders, I buried my nose and lips in her cunt. Instead of stopping there, I went lower. My hands parted her ass-cheeks, exposing the pucker of her rear entrance. My new target. “Ah!” she squeaked, tensing in my grip. Chuckling darkly against her flesh, I breathed deep, licked further. My tongue probed, exploring her smooth skin and fighting her walls. My cock was throbbing, going mad with arousal. Eating her ass was turning me on wildly, her heels bouncing feebly on my back. Pushing two fingers into her pussy, I spread my tongue wide. Curling my hand in her cunt, I soaked her asshole with my lips. I teased both places, occasionally rubbing her sensitive clit as I went. Zoe was making noise—I realized she was panting my name, over and over. “Huck... Huck, please... god. Fucking hell, Huck!” Backing out, I wiped my mouth and grabbed the lube. Zoe whined, rocking on the mattress, frustrated that I had stopped. She didn't realize how difficult she was making this for me. My cock was on fire, heavy with need. The

tip was glossy with my early juices, and it demanded that I spear into her cunt. But I was better than that. I was a professional. Coating a finger, I spread some lube on her ass. She groaned, then said, “Are you going to do what I think you are?” “That depends. Do you think I'm about to finger your ass?” She went stiff, the blindfold moving as she turned towards me. “Y—yeah.” Smiling, I grazed between her cheeks, moving slowly. “Done this before?” “Yes.” I paused, then went back to massaging the slippery liquid onto her. “Then let's change tactics. You want me to do this?” “Fuck, yes!” “Then beg me.” Gently, I started to spread her with a fingertip. The second she tried to get more of me, I pulled out, enjoying her angry growl. “Just tell me you want me to stuff your cute little ass. That's all you have to do, sugar.” Thrashing in her bonds, Zoe felt for me with her feet. She tried to make me go deeper, but it was useless. I set my knees on her thighs, forcing her wide open. With easy access, I rubbed her clit gently, never enough to get

her off. My other hand pushed against her asshole again, daring to go half an inch into her warm walls. I whispered, straining to keep control. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear that sweet mouth saying it's desperate for me to fill this tight ass.” She didn't fight long. Baring her teeth, she hissed and tugged at my headboard. “Dammit! I—just do it! Fucking stuff my ass, you bastard!” Closing my eyes, I endured the new rush she'd caused. Eager to please, my finger slid into her with torturous patience. Zoe was heaving, rocking on the bed. Deeper, I slid inside up to the knuckle. In and out, I did it until she was ready for another. Two fingers, I spread them, tested what she could handle. She was sweating, the dampness collecting under her shaking breasts. I tried to take a photo with my mind. “More,” she said, ever hungry. Pulling my hand away, I ignored her sad noises. From the bag, I took out a new toy. It was slightly rounded, light blue and bigger than my thumb. Coating it in lube until it shined, I tickled it up and down her crease. Finally, I pushed it inside, digging it deep into her ass until she closed around the tapered bottom. Her moan was long, loud; it shook my bones, turned my cock hard as rock. I was done playing. I couldn't handle this. Zoe and her wanton lust for me was pushing me over the edge.

Fisting myself, I straddled her hips and slid my fat tip into her pussy. It eased into her, the trip made smooth by how wet she was from all my teasing. “God damn,” I growled, ripping her blindfold away. Zoe would watch me fuck her, of that, I had every intention. Her eyes were a blizzard, but they didn't cool me off. Without hands, she only had one way to gain leverage. Wrapping her legs around my waist, she met my strokes, her own far more spastic and wild. Ramming into her, I gripped her hair and demanded our mouths grind together. She tasted like sex, smelled like heaven. I was lost, and fuck it, I didn't want to be found. I could die here, I'd never felt more happy. Hooking my arms around her knees, I pushed her to the limit, bending her nearly in half. With new gusto, I stuffed myself to the root. My cock swelled, stretching her walls until I was disoriented. Warbling like a songbird, Zoe threw her head back. “I'm—fuck, I'm...!” She never said, but I knew. Around my shaft, her cunt rippled in the most powerful of embraces. It sent me over, hot prickles going from my feet to the back of my eyes. At the last second, I pulled out. “Fuck,” I hissed, the pressure of my orgasm leaving me breathless. I covered her belly and inner thighs in my come, a sticky mess that shouldn't have happened. The idea of using a condom had vanished somewhere in my careful plan. I'd lost it, forgotten the

need to be careful. Zoe ruined me, stole the part of my brain that acted decisive. Panting, I stared down at her. Static energy coursed between us, pure delight that acknowledged how erotic that had been. Clearing my throat, I pushed the hair from my forehead. “Normally, this is where I'd clean up and leave.” Smiling sideways, she tugged at the cuffs. “What, leaving me like this?” My eyes warmed, one hand jerking my still half-hard cock. “Maybe. Some girls like that.” “Not me,” she said, laughing. “Untie me. Not to spoil the mood, but we need to clean up and go.” Right. The fight. Sighing dramatically, I removed the cuffs and helped her sit up. “Still want a movie after this tonight?” Winking, Zoe hopped off the bed. On purpose, she stretched upwards, showing off her ass. The toy was still there, and she knew I could see. My cock was waking again. “I've been inspired, magically, to want to do something much more... fulfilling, instead.” Not for the first time, I hated that Nehro was dictating our lives. I ached to bend Zoe over and go at her again. Later, I told myself, looking for my clothes. It's just another fight. Another fucking speed-bump. Nehro could command us to go to his fucking Dog House.

But that was where it ended. I'd play his dumb game, because when it was over, he could look on longingly as I left that grim place with the most stunning woman in the world at my side. And she would be at my side. Every fucking time.

I knew something was different when we entered the Dog House. There was always a roar, a buzzing energy that existed before each fight or just after. This time, the air was... sharp. Poignant. “What's going on?” I asked, speaking to Zoe when we cleared the bottom step. Hundreds of eyes fixed on us, the mumbling getting louder. My hackles were sharp as needles. Shaking her head, she grabbed for my hand. “I don't know. I'm not sure.” People parted for us as we walked, giving us space. This wasn't good. Like we knew it could crack the mystery, we bee lined for the whiteboard. Our answer lay there, scribbled down in row upon row of marker. Zoe growled out a simple, “No.”

I didn't look down at her. I just stared at the board, taking in the situation. There were five names listed on the left, each a different man, a unique fighter. On the right there was only one name, repeated over and over. Huxton. Me. “They want me to fight all of these guys?” I laughed, not believing it. Gripping my hand fiercely, Zoe let me go. Her absent touch left a hollow itch. “No way. This is impossible, no one could handle this!” My smile was sharp. “That's exactly it.” Covering my mouth, I laughed without any humor. “Fucking Nehro. He wants me to fail.” “Huck, you're not doing this. That many guys...” Lifting her eyes, the blue depths glimmered with fear. “You wouldn't live through it. You'll be killed.” A cold, angry sweat rippled down the back of my neck. She was right. This was an impossible task. A gauntlet designed to ruin us both. Nehro was a true monster. I studied Zoe. She saw the heat in my eyes, recognized my thoughts. “Don't you dare.” “If I don't fight, you'll owe your body to Nehro.” Grimacing, I rolled my shoulders, loosening my tightening muscles. “I'd gladly die before I let that happen.”

She was going to slap me. Her hand whipped back, poised in the air and wavering. It never came forward. It fell down, limp and weak—helpless. That was how she felt. I understood. Sensing him, like a part of my brain had become attuned to the man, I saw Nehro before he opened his mouth. “Ah. You're still here, Huxton.” “Of course I'm still here,” I snapped. Showing his teeth, Nehro jerked his head at the board. “How does the lineup look?” Eyeing his throat, I imagined myself choking him. “Looks fucking perfect. Thanks for having so much confidence in me.” Ice spread over his eyes. He looked around me, nodding at Zoe. “He does know that he isn't obligated to fight in this gauntlet, right?” “Of course he knows!” she shouted. “What the hell is wrong with you, Nehro? If you want me to fail in your little game so badly, why are you even doing this?” She gestured wildly, her tone rising with distress. “Just threaten my Gram! You know you can! You know it'd be enough!” “Zoe, stop it,” I said. She ignored me, screaming so loud people were staring. “Force me to be your whore, isn't that your fucking goal? Stop making me torture myself and everyone else! You're a fucking monster!”

Narrowing my eyes at Nehro, I reached for Zoe. No part of her was steady, I coiled her against my side. Nehro watched us both, not flinching under her verbal attack. He spoke without any emotion. “Think of me what you will. I still believe in the sanctity of contracts. If you're so keen to free this man, it's fine with me. Tell him not to fight, and it's all over with.” His greasy stare rolled to me. “Your dear savior can walk away and go back to his life, before you dragged him into your troubles.” Zoe shuddered in my embrace. I squeezed her, and when I heard her inhale, like she planned to speak out and 'save' me from all of this, I cut her off. “No need, I'll be fighting tonight.” “Huck, no!” Ignoring her, I held my head high and smiled down on Nehro. He asked in cold disbelief, “You're really going to do this, let yourself suffer for her?” “Sure am.” Gently, I disengaged from Zoe. Her eyes were big and wet, ruining her claim that she never cried. “Call me crazy, but I guess I happen to like trouble.” Covering her mouth, she choked out a small sound. Nehro looked at the clock, every bit of his humor replaced by a foul mood. He hated that I was going to take his challenge. Good. That just fueled me more.

“Get ready,” he snapped, whirling away. “You begin in five minutes.” Watching him go, I started to hand Zoe my jacket. “Please, Huck,” she whispered. “You're going to get murdered.” “I'll win, babe.” I wished I could grin bigger, but it wasn't happening. “Have some confidence in me.” I'd worn my gym gear under my street clothes this time, and stripping down to it, I shoved everything else into the bag I'd brought. Wrapping my hands, I glanced at the crowd. They were milling around, exchanging money and slips of paper. Betting was on, and I realized, it was the first time I'd been at the Dog House so early. I'd never been the first match before. Or the last. Now, I would get to be all of them. “Huck.” Tying off the bandages, I faced Zoe. It was as difficult as standing in that ring. She knew what I knew; tonight, I might not come out alive. “Listen,” I said, curling my fingers into her silk hair. I wanted to rub it all over me... and I couldn't. Not now, and perhaps never again. “Under my bed, there's a box. It isn't even locked, because I figured if someone was going to rob me, they'd get it open anyway.” She stared at me, shaking her head slowly. “Huck...” “Take my apartment key.” I shoved it into her palm, closed her fingers. “If this goes bad, you can have my

savings. Use them to get another guy to do this for you. That way, even if I'm gone, you'll—” She silenced me with her mouth, a kiss so rough it awoke the adrenaline in my veins. Zoe clawed at me, demanding more, trying to will me away with her very existence. Except... it was her existence that I was fighting for. Firmly, I grabbed her by the forearms. “Get yourself together, sugar.” Lifting my hands, I brushed her tears from her cheeks. My smile was tight. “When I'm standing out there, beating my way to a win...” I winked at her. “I want to hear you cheering your fucking lungs out for your dog.” I backed away, there was nothing else to do but head to my fate. I'd put myself here, I wasn't going to run. Where would I—we—even go? It was impossible to escape, we couldn't scoop up her Gram; the poor woman wasn't fit for travel. Nehro would hunt us all down. This was all I could do for her. For us. Zoe stared at me, dead on and never flinching. Her lips moved, but I didn't hear her. The bell had rung, the crowd drowning her out. Everyone was ready. They were excited to watch me get shredded by fists and teeth. As I walked with heavy feet to the chalk ring, I repeated the vision of Zoe in my mind. I watched her again and again, seeing her lips curl, reading the shape of them.

She'd mouthed three words. Words I'd heard before... But had never believed. My ears burned, people shoving to get a better view. And in my mind, I thought of that star-child who had captured my heart in ways no woman ever should have. I love you, too, Zoe. The bell dinged. Perching on the edge of the ring, I held my fists high and eyeballed the first man who dared to face me. It was time.

- Chapter Fifteen Zoe

I was screaming, and I didn't think I'd ever stop. Huck's skin was gleaming from sweat, the muscles highlighted along his ribcage. In jungle-green shorts and handwraps, he finally fit the scene perfectly. Except, to me... the clothes made no difference. Huxton was a fighter, straight down to his core. I knew that now. If he'd strut into the ring naked, he would have been just as imposing—just as natural. This was his world. It blew my mind that a man like this could have transitioned into something less violent. With blood now staining his hands, his hair ruffled and damp, I glimpsed hints of the side of him that was so determined to protect me. The shadow in his eyes, the way he could bend me in his arms and make me moan. With each new opponent, the human aura in him was fading. He was becoming nothing but a savage beast. Huck had taken the first guy down easy. The second had gotten a jab or two in, made him grunt, but no more. But by the third... he was struggling.

He faced down a hulk of a man, a guy by the name of Dice. His teeth were black and white, spattered with cavities. He'd been hit in the face so much he didn't bother to keep up with them. Now, that rotting grimace fixed on Huck, another fist pounding into his side. Lifting my arms, I screamed harder. Huck swung forward, wrapping his grip on Dice and shoving him to the floor. There, he jammed an elbow into the man's jaw —we all heard the crunch. It was good that Dice didn't care about his teeth. Panting heavily, Huxton got to his feet. His chin hung low, hair and sweat in his eyes. Clutching his jacket, I recalled the first night we'd done this. How proud he'd been then, how fast he had come to my aid and won for me. Even from the beginning, Huck had tried to save me. His desire was what would get him killed. “Huck!” I shouted, desperate to be heard over the people roaring. He looked my way, finding me in the mess. Instantly, he perked up—gave me a smile. He was faking the energy. Huxton was growing tired. “Next fight,” Nehro crowed, holding his megaphone high. He looked ridiculous, I wanted to slam the device down his cruel mouth. “Rematch, Shrapnel versus Huxton!” God, everyone went wild.

Massive as ever, Shrapnel moved to his end of the ring. Huck's smile fidgeted at the corner. I didn't know if he was amused or pissed. Licking his lips, Shrapnel put his giant, meaty fists in the air. “Been waiting to go at you again,” he called out. Pushing his hair off of his forehead, Huxton adjusted his stance. Some of his smooth confidence had returned, but I wondered if it was real or fake. He said, “You missed me that much, huh? That's sweet of you.” Shrapnel flared his nostrils, hunching into a ball of sinew and thick neck. That damn bell rang out, and the giant man didn't wait. He flew at Huck, his bare feet making the ground shake—or maybe that was just from the cheering crowd. Huck was clearly tired. He dodged, but barely. I clutched his jacket so hard, I could have torn it in two. I wanted to help, but there was no way. I had no options. Not for the last time, I hated that he was in this position. I was falling in love with the man, and it was painful. The tragedy of loving someone that was required to kill themselves wasn't lost on me. Shuddering, I screamed louder; I was losing my voice. Ducking out of the way of another swing, Huck tried to take Shrapnel down by the ankles. It had worked in their first fight. Not this time.

Growling, teeth bared on pink gums, the bigger man gripped Huck by the throat. In one wrench of his arms, he threw Huck into the cement. He bounced, skidding to a halt on his side. The scrape along his upper chest was like raw hamburger. Unable to make anymore sounds, I just bit into his leather jacket. Was he going to die out there, die for real? Shrapnel stalked towards him, ready to smother Huck into the floor. But my fighter, he wasn't done. Not by a long shot. Huxton's eyes snapped open, and his feet snapped even faster. Kicking out, his heel exploded into the side of Shrapnel's knee. The crack was a gunshot, the huge beast howling as he went down. Panting viciously, Huck crawled on top of the mountain of flesh. It wasn't needed; Shrapnel slapped his palm into the floor, tapping out. He was done, his injury too grave. The bell announced that it was over. People rushed into the ring, dragging Shrapnel away to get him assistance. He'd end up under the care of Jean, one of the men who got paid good money to fix up the fighters on the down-low. I'd stopped breathing; painful oxygen flowed into my lungs, restarting my heart, my hope. There was only one man left to face Huck. He could do it. He had to do it.

Nehro stood at the end of the ring. The disgust living in his glare wouldn't show to the crowd, but I recognized it. He hated that we were winning. I think Huck saw it, too, because he stood taller and managed a proud grin. His energy gave me new vigor. Pumping a fist, I shouted, “Huck! Huck! Huck!” The patrons took up the call. They were blown away by this combatant, for not only was he new, but he was an anomaly. Nehro had organized the gauntlet to destroy him, but it couldn't be done. Huck was invincible. “Huxton versus Magnus,” Nehro called into the mic. “Rematch number two.” Looking up, I saw the lean man step into the ring. Huck saw him, too, and he looked relieved. He'd taken Magnus down quickly the first time. Smoothing his blonde hair, Magnus nodded once. It was a sign of respect. He knew that Huck was on his last legs. Holding his fists high, Huck returned the nod. The bell rang, and the moment of peace was gone. It was all about the violence, the win. Magnus moved like lightning. He was smaller than Huck, deceivingly so. In a blur, his knuckles smashed into his opponent's cheek, then an elbow sliced right above his eyebrow. Huxton stumbled back, grasping at his face. The blood started in a slow drip, soon pouring into his

vision, that eye closing tight. “Oh god,” I gasped out loud. Considering his soaked palm, Huck wiped it on his shirt and took up his stance again. I couldn't hear what he said, the noise was too much. Lowering his chin, Magnus came at him again. Huck was prepared, blocking the hits, his knee sending the other man to the ground. Jumping down, they wrestled, a knot of arms and legs. Red stained the floor, marks that imitated fingerprints. Most of it was a shapeless smear. Magnus was winning, he was too fresh. Choking Huxton, he held him down, face to the floor. I saw Huck's grimace, the color of his skin; purple as a plum. I had the awful image of his head popping clean off, or his eyes exploding. It wasn't likely, but severe injury was. Something as bad as Shrapnel's knee. And then it hit me. He doesn't need to win! Lifting my hands, I formed a megaphone and screamed, “Tap out! Tap out! It still counts!” Across the ring, Nehro's eyes flashed to me. I ignored him, shouting louder, my voice turning into gravel from the strain. Huxton must have heard my demands. His palm wavered, pounding the cement. It left wet, sticky imprints with each slap.

The bell went off, and Magnus let go. Wheezing, Huck bent over, holding his ribs. Ignoring the cheers and boos, I stormed over the chalk line. “Are you okay?” I asked, bending down to lift his chin. Blinking, he gave me a small smile. His voice was gritty. “Please tell me I didn't hallucinate that. I didn't win, and that's alright?” Nodding rapidly, I hugged him tight. “It's less money for me, but so what? Fuck, I should have suggested it earlier.” In the glory of Huck's constant successes, I'd taken for granted that he knew the rules. Had Nehro not told him? As long as the fight went on for five minutes, to help avoid people cheating the system and betting without risk, it was still a fight. It didn't count as a default. I aided him to his feet, blood getting on my shirt. “Your face,” I said, frowning at the cut above his eye. “Is it bad?” “No, it's just bleeding like crazy. Let's clean you up.” Before I had him out of the ring, the bell rang. The two of us jerked, hearts dipping into our stomachs. We turned back, staring in disbelief at Nehro. Next to him, grinning and looking proud as punch, was Reese. Nehro lifted the mic. “Final fight, Huxton versus Reese.”

“No,” I spat, pointing a finger. “No! He can't, this isn't happening!” A massive wall of shouts took over, everyone so fucking happy at this turn of events. I hated this place more than ever. I wanted to burn it, to crush the ashes under my heel. Huxton gently forced himself out of my arms. His long legs took him to the other men; I followed, still shaking my head and scowling. Nehro watched us both, calm and smug and deserving of a kick to the mouth. “What are you doing?” he asked. “The fight starts, get in the ring.” With his lips in a fierce line, Huck said flatly, “You really expect me to fight Reese, right now, after everything?” Reese stepped forward, callous in his amusement. “Yeah. It's time for us to finally do this. I'm going to get you back for breaking my nose.” Huck didn't acknowledge the man. He hadn't looked away from Nehro. Lowering his eyebrows, Nehro said, “Will you refuse to do it?” “Is this it?” Huck growled. “Just him, then we're done here?” Nehro nodded. “Beat him, and I won't call on you for a few weeks.” “How kind of you,” Huck laughed bitterly.

Tugging at his elbow, I whispered, “If you're doing this, just tap out like before. Okay? Reese won't go easy in there.” Taking me by the jaw, he kissed me right in front of everyone. I spotted the glimmer of rage in Reese and Nehro. But I didn't care. Huck tasted like adrenaline, like a man on a mission. I wished that was comforting. I wanted him to go in there, endure five minutes, then give up. I had a dreadful premonition that he would never concede to Reese. Huck said into my ear, “I'm not going to go easy on him, either.” Stunned, I looked on from my little world as we split apart. Huck went back to his position in the ring, and Reese to the opposite side. Nehro put a hand on my shoulder; I shrugged it off violently, stomping backwards. “Don't touch me, you're not even human.” His smile was thin as a razor. “I look forward to when you can no longer deny me.” “I'll always deny you,” I hissed. Fury wriggled in my guts, controlling me so that I shook helplessly. “I hate you. Don't you get that?” “Of course, it's part of what draws me to you.” Leaning close, Nehro thumped the mic into his other palm. “There's something thrilling about a girl who hates you, but has no choice in having to obey.”

Straightening, he gazed over the crowd, lifted his arms; they saw him do it, took it as a sign to cheer louder. My skin crawled. “I love control. If you had given yourself up to me from the start, who knows? Maybe I wouldn't have wanted you at all.” Pushing vomit back down, I turned away and paced into the thrumming bodies. They muted him, even as he shouted over the megaphone. I didn't want to think about Nehro. I wanted to get away from all of this. Perching on the edge of the chalk, I clung to Huck's jacket and absorbed the determination in his eyes. Any belief that I had that he would back down and bow to Reese, just to save himself some pain, was erased. Huxton's green stare was pure, unfiltered conviction. He wanted to fight Reese. I just prayed that when this was over with, the man I loved would still hold the same strength in his beautiful eyes.

- Chapter Sixteen Huxton

My left eye burned. I didn't know if it was from blood or sweat. The cut from the last fight still seared my nerves; pulsing, trying to distract me. But nothing would distract me. Not with Reese mere feet away. I'd been praying for a chance at taking him down. It was cruel that the chance had come now, at the end of a long row of rough fights. I wasn't stupid. I knew Nehro had arranged all of this. Swaying on my feet, I shook myself. Exhaustion demanded that I let my muscles give in. My body was so eager to collapse on the ground. I couldn't. The bell rang, but neither of us moved. Reese was observing me, the edge of his mouth trying to decide if it wanted to smirk or not. The bastard was happy, he was sure he had an advantage. Of course, he did; he was fullthrottle, I was half-empty. Inching his foot forward, he started to move. I let him, saving myself for when I had to actually use my muscles. The world was crafted from screams and howls. When he was close enough to be heard, Reese grinned. “How you feeling?”

Tensing my legs, ignoring how they cramped, I said, “Fucking fantastic. I see your nose is better. Just in time for me to break it again.” His eyebrows crunched together. “I'm so happy I get to destroy you. What a great day this is.” Done with banter, he dove right at me. His fist was easy to spot, but not his leg. His foot caught me in the ribs, sending me rolling to one side. Flashes of yellow filled my brain as I tumbled. My body was demanding that I give up. I could tap out. Nehro had never told me that was an option. Now that I knew, it was the smart thing to do it. The thing is, I wanted Nehro to see that I was bigger, stronger; better. He couldn't break me with a line of men. I'd shatter all of them. Perhaps he knew I wouldn't tap out, anyway. He'd promised me a break if I defeated Reese. I didn't need temptation. This was a man I wanted to fight. How could I back down? Reese stalked my way, diving at me on the cement. I twisted to catch him, but his arm got under my chin and began to constrict. Scratching at his wrists, I went foggy —pieces of my brain throbbing, ready to explode like balloons. Slamming my elbow back, I nailed him in the guts. It was enough to get him loose, my weight shoving him off of me. Stumbling to my feet, I got my hands up—but he came at me too fast.

That headbutt sent me sprawling. The sea of people became a dull ringing. Gasping, I inched backwards, standing as far from Reese as I could. He was fucking me up, and the wild grin on his face said he knew it. He was beating me. Breathing deep, he shook the sweat from his hair and laughed. “This is perfect, this is what I wanted.” Looking above me, he studied the faces that reveled in our destruction. His hand went up, a small wave. Peeking sideways, I saw Zoe—pale and distressed. He took a step towards me and said, “I want her to watch you fall. To see that I was better—that I am better.” Clenching my hands until the cords of my arms burned, I waited for him to get close. “You're pretty caught up on a girl you abandoned, Reese.” His whole face darkened. “She abandoned me! I did everything for her, and she couldn't forgive me for one fucking mistake that was her fault in the first place?” On the balls of my feet, I focused. I channeled every memory I had of my days fighting on the street. The purple diamonds on my hands were solid reminders of each win I'd had, a tally I kept for myself. One of them meant five wins in a row... and I'd managed to cover every fucking knuckle. I wasn't some rule-trained MMA fighter. This place, the Dog House, was as familiar to me as the other underground rings I'd battled in. Reese thought he knew what he was up against...

But he didn't. He couldn't have. Laughing cynically, I nodded at him. “It was her fault you fucked someone else? Nice logic.” “She'd become boring, man.” Two steps, three... he was so close, almost there. “The bitch stopped being the girl I'd first met. It was her job to remember what I'd done for her!” There; it was time. Not winding up, giving him no time to prepare, I jabbed my fist straight into Reese's mouth. The skin wrinkled, his head jerking with the momentum. I expected him to be more shocked, but he took the hit and slammed me back, sending me flying over the ground. Grunting, I buckled down, hands on my thighs. The ringing had dulled, but my blood kept sloshing in my veins. Right then, my voice was stronger than the rest of me. “Zoe doesn't owe you anything.” Wiping his mouth, he looked at the streak of red. “Of course she fucking owes me.” He curled his fingers, slapped his chest. “I saved her god damn grandmother. Zoe was too fucked up to drive, or didn't you know that? How much our 'sweet girl' was hooked on dope?” He threw back his head, snorting. “She couldn't have driven that night! I had to!” My heart thumped, then began to shrink. What did he just say? Crouched there, I looked down at my hands—the blood that had soaked through the wraps—and just

stared. He'd said Zoe couldn't drive that night—that he'd had to? He'd been so factual. Spoken from his own memory of the event. Did that mean... With great slowness, I looked up at my approaching opponent. “It was you,” I whispered, making myself stand. Rage had formed in my bones, turned them to steel. It numbed my pain and gave me strength. “You were driving that night, not Gram.” Reese froze in front of me, it was astounding that he'd heard me over the noise around us. His panicked stare, red veins spider-webbing around the whites... his reaction said volumes. Pressure throbbed behind my eyeballs. That was what Gram meant... when she'd told me not to go too fast. She thought I was him. She'd called me Reese. Some part of her broken mind remembers that night. It was him. He was breathing severely, lips red as raspberries. I'd split the skin with my punch. I had every intention to do it again. The entire reason Zoe blamed herself... tortured herself... was because she thought that by not going with her Gram, she'd been responsible. But it wasn't her grandmother who'd been driving. She hadn't been behind the wheel. “You're incredible,” I hissed. “You made her hate herself. Zoe thought this was her sacrifice to make

because you fucking lied to her! You piece of shit! You motherfucking piece of shit!” Boiling with disgust, I let myself give in to my base desires. I wanted to claw the skin from this man's face. I wanted him to feel so much pain, to understand what Zoe had gone through. Reese... he was the root of it all. Causing the crash. Introducing her to Nehro. Making her feel like she owed him for 'saving' her grandmother. All along, he'd been responsible for everything. Knocking Reese to the floor, I jammed my fist into his cheek. The sound was satisfying. Again and again, I pounded him like I'd harassed so many gym bags. But this wasn't canvas, this was flesh and bone. Reese caught me by the throat, strangling me, shoving me off. Coughing, I went for him again. I didn't see the knife, not until it sliced cleanly through part of my forearm. Stumbling away, I looked down at the cut. It welled with blood, dripping to the floor and causing a cry of dismay from the crowd. I heard Zoe's scream. It cut deeper than the knife had. Reese was grunting, his hair heavy from sweat. He rocked onto his feet; I followed his example, the two of us standing. The blade was wicked, but small enough that he'd been able to conceal it in his pocket.

“No weapons,” I breathed. “It's against the rules.” “Fuck the rules,” he spit. Phlegm and blood splattered by his shoes. “I don't care. I'm ending this here.” I dared to look away, trying to spot Nehro. The bastard was on the sidelines, and he was making no move to end this fight. My brain tingled, warning me of two things. One, that Nehro had every intent of letting Reese cut me to ribbons... And two, that my opponent was on the move. He came at me in a stumbling rush. He was clouded by rage, and I couldn't understand where it came from. Sure, I hated this guy... but not enough to actually kill him. Reese had planned out my murder; here, in front of everyone. In front of her. He had warned me that day in the gym. He really did want to tear me to pieces in front of Zoe. Was it just because she'd broken up with him? Could he be so petty? A man like this... yes. Twisting away from Reese's strike, I caught Zoe watching. Her eyes were crystallized, pure terror. Twice tonight, she'd been sure I would die. I hoped I could prove her wrong again. The next time his knife came for me, I knew what I had to do. Reese was sloppy, I was weak, but while he was fighting out of hate... I was fighting for her. This was about more than my own skin.

Reese would never understand that. Metal sliced into my shoulder. It burned like acid, turned the edges of my vision black. It wasn't a vital spot, that was what mattered. Grabbing him by the wrist, I filled my chest with air. Everything flexed, my weight slamming us both towards the ground. Across one knee, I cracked Reese's wrist. His scream muddled my ears, the knife bouncing along the cement. Crushing him down all the way, I jammed my knee into his stomach. His head lolled, then fell to one side so he could vomit. The noise that left him was hardly human. It took all of my inner strength not to hit him again. The man was terrible, he deserved to suffer, but... fuck. I was so tired, I wanted nothing to do with any of this. I wanted to be done. I longed to curl my busted body around Zoe and go to sleep somewhere warm. Ten more years, I reminded myself. When I'd first realized how long I'd be at Zoe's beck and call, it had been intimidating. I lived day to day, and ten years was as long as an infinity. But now... Now, I couldn't picture a world without Zoe Lillith. Ten years, twenty, a million. I would take them if I could get them, no matter how they had to be spent. Some people go their whole lives, never knowing what they're fighting for.

I'd been graced with a reason. At least, now, I'd never have to fight Reese again. There was no way he wasn't going to jail over this, I'd see to that. Standing, I said softly, “You lost. It's over.” My eyes darted, finding Zoe. She was dazed with disbelief. Around us, barking rained down from the attendees. I was the dog that had come out on top. Reese groaned, his lashes fluttering in his disorientation. He found me, animosity filling his vision. My smile didn't help, probably. When he said nothing, I turned away. I hid my wince, limping towards Zoe as she came to meet me. “Huck! Are you okay?” “Nope,” I chuckled darkly. “Shit, everything hurts. I can hardly stand.” She smiled, starting to speak. I saw her lips pucker, remembered what she'd said to my deaf ears earlier. I love you. This time, she said, “I'm so glad you're okay.” “Okay is a strong word, doll.” I was too dizzy, focusing was a challenge. She looked around me, her nervousness demanding I look, too. Spinning, I nearly passing out from the motion. All the damage was catching up with me. I was wrecked. Nehro walked past Reese, not sparing him a glance. He hovered over us, a human crafted from a fucking

vulture. “I've never seen someone do what you did tonight. Congratulations, Huxton. You're one of a kind.” Smiling, I put my weight on Zoe. Then, I lifted a hand and flipped him off. “We're leaving. Unless you plan to fight me yourself, now.” Fuck, don't let that happen. Shaking his head, Nehro's lips twitched into a sneer. “No. I'm too smart for that.” “Well, thank fucking god for brains,” I mumbled. He said, “Huxton, I wanted to offer you something else.” Pausing, he watched as the patrons started moving into the ring, eyeing Reese where he was on his knees, groaning. I nodded at the doubled-over man. “You plan to take care of that?” “In a minute. Listen to me, first.” His hands linked at his lower back. Pretend politeness, like I could be fooled by his mannerisms. “You realize your current position, right?” He didn't need to elaborate. The blood on my face and hands and all of my screaming muscles made it clear. “Let me jump ahead,” I said. “Are you about to threaten me?” “Hardly.” Nehro blinked, then smiled. “Maybe a little. You'll be in no shape to fight for the next week, I'm sure. So what will you do if I call on Zoe?” Twisting enough so I could stare down at her, I gave her a tiny hug. “You promised me a week off if I won.

Guess I'm not shocked you'd take that back.” I was too tired to be disappointed. “If you're trying to grind me into hamburger, it won't work. I'll come to the damn fights, and if I know I can't win... I'll tap out. She doesn't default as long as I show up, right?” Something dark wormed through Nehro's glare. “You don't need to win, true. But a fight has to end with a man defeated, or go as long as five minutes before one surrenders. Otherwise we'd have people cheating the bets by jumping in and giving up instantly.” I laughed humorlessly. “Can't have people cheating, right?” Nehro sighed, looking over at Reese again. He was waving people away from him. “You think I let him take the weapon in there?” Zoe spoke first. “Of course you did!” Shrugging, Nehro let a sickly-sweet smile grow. “Fine, assume I did. That means you should listen to me extra well, if you believe I'd go that far.” There, his eyes hardened. He wasn't fooling around, voice dropping low. “Huxton. If you keep fighting for her, you're going to end up as a corpse. Why not take my offer, instead?” “I don't want your fucking offer.” He said, “You haven't heard it yet.” Swaying, my energy dissipating, I leaned on Zoe. “I know it won't favor her. Why the fuck are you so determined to make her sell her body to you? What's the point of your obsession?”

Tilting his head, long strands of midnight-black hair rolled over Nehro's shoulder. “Tell me, why are you so obsessed?” I straightened up at his question. “Perhaps the answer lies in you, Huxton. You're willing to die for her, is my desire to have her in my control so shocking?” Those silent words that pierced my heart now flowed through my head. I love you. Tensing my jaw, I heard my molars creak from the pressure. “It's different for me. What you're doing is cruel.” “My offer isn't too cruel, for you.” He offered his hand, waiting for me to shake it. “Here's my deal. I'll pay you triple per fight, let you rest up between them, and all you have to do is not fight for Zoe anymore.” His smile was sharp as a scythe. “You can pay her debt down with your own money, if you wish. It'd be cleared in less than five years, half the time you'd both struggle doing this.” Ice flowed into my belly. I stared at his hand, not touching it. “No.” His fingers twitched. “The crowd loves you. I'd like to keep you here, fighting and bringing them in, even if it means letting Zoe out of her debt faster.” “But not letting her go entirely,” I snapped. “No,” he agreed, smiling. “Not entirely.” Slapping his arm away, I snarled. “You don't get it. Five years, one year... I wouldn't agree to anything like that.”

Zoe pushed her palm against my chest, starting to lead me away. “I told you before, Nehro... I'll fight those men myself before I sleep with you. Your plan is flawed. You'll never have me.” “Oh no, you're wrong there.” In the light, his teeth looked yellow. “I will have you. You owe me enough money that I have the luxury of time to think of a method. Perhaps I'll consider your earlier suggestion?” He turned, moving into the ring and towards Reese. “Your grandmother is a delightful pawn, after all.” She locked up, and I thought I was going to have to hold her back from attacking Nehro. Crushing her with what strength I had, I whispered in her ear, “It's okay. We'll figure it out. He can't force you to do anything. I'll make sure of it.” But honestly... as determined as I was, Nehro's threat was cryptic. I couldn't handle more fights if he demanded them. Did we need to take my savings and create a god damn rotating roster of fighters? It would drain my finances, but... I'd do it. Nehro didn't grasp how far I would go for Zoe. He was eager to claim her body, he thought we were similar. He was dead wrong. In front of us, Nehro was helping Reese to his feet. “Come on,” the man grunted. “We need to get you patched up.” Reese shivered, like his muscles wanted to constrict and strangle anyone touching him. Pushing Nehro away,

he stumbled towards the edge of the ring. The owner of the Dog House followed, swearing under his breath. “What the hell, Reese? You need to sit down, you're hurt!” Curling down to the floor, he glared at Nehro. His black centers were a liquid abyss. “Fuck you! You think I want your help? You fucked this all up!” The knife glimmered, rusty-red in the lighting. “You said once she belonged to you, I could finally have her again, and you couldn't even make that happen! Fuck your help, Nehro!” Reese didn't move fast, but I believe that Nehro never expected the attack. Grunting as the blade sank into his chest, the lanky man held his palms in the air, hovering just outside Reese's wrists. It was the first time I'd seen him look scared. Instinctively, I put my arm in front of Zoe. “Back up!” I hissed. Reese let the knife go, his attention rising—finding us. My ribs struggled to keep my heart and lungs from expanding too far. Fuck, we had to get away. Reese was a man with nothing to lose. I was a man afraid to lose everything. The walls of bodies surged, a new energy crossing the room. To my surprise, the crowd rushed forward, swarming onto the two men. Whether it was to stop Reese, to hurt him, or to help Nehro... I didn't know.

My skull was too small, it couldn't hold my thoughts and the growing darkness. Moaning, I saw myself falling—saw the ceiling, saw her worried eyes. Stay awake, I commanded myself. You have to save her. I was the only one who could. In the end, my body and mind didn't obey. With screams in my ears, I lost myself to the heaviness of unconsciousness. I had nothing more to give.

- Chapter Seventeen Huxton

I dreamed of stars and comets. A woman who flew through the sky with fire trailing behind. Once, I'd teased her by saying I'd waited an eternity for her. It was no longer a joke to me. Black water rushed around, drowning me—I woke with a gasp. Something cool was on my forehead, my body swaddled in warmth and cotton. “You're awake, thank goodness.” Blinking, I turned my head. Zoe was sitting next to me, holding a damp cloth to my face. There was concern swimming in her eyes, but I just wanted to stare at her— into her—and enjoy that this wasn't part of my dream. Her smile weakened. “What is it, what's wrong?” she asked. Reaching across, I brushed my fingers over her cheek. “Nothing. I've just never woken up next to someone so beautiful before.” Blushing furiously, she pulled the cloth away. “You sound like yourself. How do you feel?” Grunting, I sat up in the bed. “I'm sore as shit.” Looking around, I saw my familiar walls. “Is this my

bedroom? How did we get here? Last I remember, we were at the Dog House.” Digging into her pocket, Zoe handed me something small and smooth; my apartment key. “You don't remember the ride?” Holding the key up, I shook my head. Zoe's face smoothed, voice going soft. “I got you on your bike. You were awake enough to hold on. I drove us here, used your key to let us in. I would have taken you to my place, but...” “Eliza doesn't need to know,” I said, understanding her worries. “If you ever want to tell her about the ring, showing up with my busted-ass isn't the best method.” Chuckling, her eyes warmed with her new smile. “I'm seriously glad you're awake. When you slept all day yesterday, I was worried something was wrong. Jean said you had no serious injuries, but I wasn't positive.” “Jean?” I'd missed so much. She nodded and said, “Jean helped at the ring. He handled the guys when they got hurt. He's not a doctor, but he's good enough.” She heard what she'd said, turned red as a beet. “I mean, uh, not that you don't deserve the best, but...” I laughed, then stopped as the pain seared my chest. “I'm alive, that's 'good enough' for sure.” I was reminded of everything I'd endured—of Reese. My mood was muddled by the news I had for her. “Listen. When I was fighting Reese, he let something slip.” I linked my

fingers with hers. “Zoe, the night your grandmother was hurt, Reese was the one driving. He crashed that car, not her.” Blood drained from her face. “What? Reese was—he was driving?” Her eyelids fluttered, I worried she might faint. “I thought she'd been the one to cause the crash, and he'd pulled her out. All this time, I blamed myself for her injuries. But he... he never told me he'd been driving. He must have hoped she'd never recover enough to say what happened.” Firming my grip, I reminded her I was there. Zoe blinked down at me, the ghost of a smile starting to show. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Not totally, but I will be. This changes so much. My heart feels lighter, is that weird?” “Not at all.” Ruffling my hair absently, I hissed. There were many bumps and bruises. Zoe saw what I was doing. She moved to sit beside me on the bed, her hands gentle on my scalp. “Does this hurt badly?” Curling my arm around her middle, I pulled her on top of me. “Not anymore. I think you're better than medicine.” She chewed her bottom lip, resting her nails in my hair. The feeling was glorious. “I have a confession. I slammed your head on your stripper pole when I was getting you in here. That thing is a hazard.”

That time, I laughed even though it hurt. God, that felt great. Snuggling into the blanket, I rolled my hands down to her waist, holding her—just lavishing in the ability to do so. “I'm in bad shape, so I can't imagine Reese and Nehro are any better off. Has he called yet, threatened us anymore?” Zoe locked up, her blue eyes going a shade darker; duller. “Huck... Nehro is dead.” I stopped blinking. Dead? The idea was... remarkable. I hadn't even considered it. I wrestled with my memory, trying to dig up every detail of the fight from last night. No, not last night. She said I slept a whole day. Everything was blurry, my head was mush. Finally, I said softly, “How do you know that?” “The news. The cops were called, the whole place was cleaned out. Reese is being charged with murder.” Hugging herself, Zoe looked torn between joy and sickness. “He really killed him. Just like that, in front of everyone.” Don't blame me too harshly, but this news sent thrills of relief into my aching body. I couldn't believe it. If Nehro was dead, then... “You're free.” I said the words, tasted them. Looking up at the wonderful angel who sat in my lap, I repeated myself. “You're free, Zoe.”

Full strength, forgetting about my wounds, she collapsed on me and held me close. The embrace had the aura of being held at bay, and I pictured her sitting at my side, simply waiting for me to open my eyes so she could share the news. New wetness tickled my cheek. Clasping her chin, I lifted her up. “You know,” I whispered, wiping the corners of her eyes. “For a girl that doesn't cry, you sure do water up a lot.” Sniffling, she scrubbed her face and smiled. “I don't know how to tell you how happy I am right now. Can you even understand?” “Of course I understand.” Pressing my lips to her cheek, I tasted her salt. Yes, her flavor did change with her moods, just like I'd always wondered. Her eyes flashed, lightning in a spring sky. “I need to apologize, and to thank you. You—god, everything you did for me... Huck, you almost died. Reese wanted to kill you, and he was capable of it.” “But he didn't.” Suddenly, she couldn't look at me. Her shoulders rolled forward, chin to her chest. “Listen. I was thinking. Now that Nehro is gone... and Reese is going to jail... you're free, just like I am. You don't have to fight for me anymore.” She was speaking faster, rushing through her practiced speech. “I'll pay you what I owe you, and then you can go back to everything you were doing before.

Safe stuff, stuff you actually enjoyed. I bet your clients miss you.” A tiny seed of emotion grew, curling up through my guts and into my chest. I wasn't angry, that wasn't right. It was deeper, richer in nature. Zoe... she was freeing me? She thought she could just wave her hand and I could return to my life before her? My fingers slid up to her shoulder, curling behind the base of her neck. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn't. Not yet. “What are you doing?” I asked, steam and shadows coating my voice. “Do you honestly think I enjoyed my life more before you appeared?” Fury took over, a fervor that was torn between tasting her and shouting. She thought I didn't understand her? I needed her to understand me. “Zoe,” I growled, thumb digging in; not to hurt, but to keep her aware. “Even with your debt gone, no one to collect on it... I can't walk away.” Narrowing my eyes, I searched hers for the proof I was after. “I'll never stop fighting for you. No matter how tired or hurt, I could be in a fucking grave and I would still rise up to protect you.” Trembling, she wriggled on top of me. The heavy heat of something more welcoming than her doubts crept in. “Tell me why.” Bringing her down to me, I brushed my lips on hers. She flexed, trying to reach me for a full on kiss. I

squeezed, held her hair firm so she couldn't. “For the same reason you're trying to push me away. This misplaced desire to free me. As if leaving you would free me in any capacity.” Whimpering, she looked down her nose and waited expectantly. Zoe needed me to tell her the truth. I'd never said the words before, they'd never come to my lips... But now, they felt as natural as breathing. “I love you, Zoe. Isn't it obvious?” I couldn't wait any longer. My mouth captured hers, fighting to reach every inch of her and still seeking more. I didn't need her to respond, I already knew how she felt. Gripping me by the roots, she tugged my head back, pushed it against the pillow. Her breathing was rapid, lips glowing from my force. “You're insane,” she finally gasped. Zoe's words were raw. “There's nothing for you to protect me from anymore.” “There's always something. When it shows up, I'll tear it down.” Shaking her head, strands of crimson danced over her cheeks. She was even more gorgeous when she was flustered. “I don't want you to die for me. Ever.” Lifting her shirt at the hem, I grazed her soft skin. She shivered instantly. “Then I guess I can't die. Guys like me, we're made from stronger stuff than you'd ever guess.” Zoe kissed my temple, brushed my ear. “All humans can break.”

Hissing at the way she made my lower belly tighten, I wrapped my arms around her spine. “It's a good thing I'm a fucking bad boy, then,” I chuckled. “It's different than being just human. It's much better.” In a burst of ferocity, she dissolved the distance. Our tongues melded, heat and heartbeats synchronizing. When she finally spoke, she did it against my lips, making them buzz with the vibration of her emotion. “I love you so much, Huxton. Do you realize that? I didn't think I'd ever fall for someone like you, not again. Not after everything. Falling in love with someone who reminded me of my past... it was terrifying.” Smiling against her teeth, I whispered, “Then I have good news for you, sugar.” I bit the corner of her mouth gently. Her moan was rejuvenating. “I'm the last guy you'll ever be terrified of falling in love with.” There was no exaggeration in my claim. No matter what I had to do, I would ensure that this wonderful woman who had come tumbling into my life would remain mine. My life had been so different before her. But it hadn't been better. Not even when compared to falling over, bleeding on the cement to save her... It hadn't been better. Once, I'd only been good at two things; fighting, and fucking. I'd always done them for myself. It was all I had,

and it kept me going. It gave me a purpose in this wicked world. But no longer. I didn't have to fight to prove myself... and I didn't need to seek out multiple women to feel whole. To feel wanted. With Zoe in my arms, my lips on her skin and my brain fogging with her existence... Life held infinite possibilities. Together, we would experience all of them.

- Epilogue Zoe

Dragging the heavy piece of furniture into place, I huffed with exertion. The desk looked almost silly in the corner of the nearly empty apartment, but it still made me smile. “Did you move that alone?” Turning, I nodded at Huck as he carried a box into the room. In dark jeans and a long sleeved, fitted green shirt, he did a disservice by hiding most of his tattoos. Gram hadn't called him Reese in some time, but he was still wary about it. Hiding his ink was a safety net of his own choosing, so I let it be. Later, I'd make sure to tear that damn thing off and expose his art and muscles to my private eyes. Adjusting the chair into place, I reached for him when he came to my side. “I think she'll like it,” he said. “I hope so. I really do.” Sighing, I cracked my back. “Now that she's writing again, I think her mind is getting clearer. It's amazing.” Sitting in the chair, he pulled me into his lap, kissing my elbow. “Telling her about Reese must have knocked something loose.”

Yes. Reese. Thinking about him still twisted my stomach. I'd forgotten Nehro much easier. It was Reese that had managed to cause a snowball of wreckage. That day, as I sat and held Gram's hand, revealing the truth of the accident, recognition had glowed in her wide eyes. It would take lots more work, but that had been the missing piece. With it, we had a hope of solving the puzzle. Just days after telling her the news, the facility decided she was well enough to come stay with me, if I was willing. I was beyond willing; I was ecstatic. Luckily, since I'd predicted I'd need to keep her in that expensive building for years... I had some leftovers from my loan. The money that had hung so heavy over me, it remained useful. The new apartment was perfect, big enough for us both. Huck caressed my cheek, breathing in so loudly is startled me. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “You just smell amazing.” “I smell like sweat.” “Amazing,” he repeated, turning me so he could tease my tongue with his. Sparks traveled down to my thighs. With great regret, I untangled and stood up. “Sorry. I want to play, but I need to go pick up Gram. I'm excited to bring her here.” My eyes crinkled. “To bring her home.”

Running a hand over his skull, Huck nodded. “Alright. Are you coming to Eliza's Christmas party later?” “Yeah, she'd kill me if I didn't.” “I'll kill you if you don't,” he teased, tucking my hair behind my ear. Scoffing, I gave him a light shove. “Please. I'd take you down any day of the week.” Coiling a palm onto my lower back, Huck nudged me against his chest. Pearly teeth glinted in his hard smile. “Oh yes,” he purred. “In all honesty, I think you might be the toughest fighter I've ever met, babe.” He was kidding... but I suspected, part of him meant it. I'd fought so long to make my life better. Escape looked futile. Then, Huxton had come along, dancing into my life—literally—and restarting the hope in my heart. He'd done more for me than anyone had dared to before. I could never thank him enough.

It was dark out when I finally arrived at Eliza's place.

Being able to afford a car and drive again was freeing, but I'd still ended up late. Showing Gram our new home had been emotionally draining for the both of us. I hadn't thought she would cry when she saw the desk, and when she'd begun, I'd lost it as well. Huck had taught me what it meant to fight for someone. What it meant to really care and love. I'd use that lesson to guarantee that Gram would be proud of me. I'd do whatever I could to give her the life she deserved. Having her back again? I wouldn't take it for granted. Parking my car, I climbed out and adjusted my dress. The streets were lit up, every house sparkling with strings of red and blue and yellow. So recently, I'd looked over such displays and wallowed in depression. I hadn't been able to enjoy the season. Walking up to Eliza's home—my home, until recently—I smiled at the glittery Santa. “Ho ho ho,” I said, shaking my head. Knocking on the door, I realized something strange. Considering the party was supposed to have started over an hour ago, why was everything so quiet? Squinting, I knocked again—then tried the knob. The door wasn't locked. With growing trepidation, I cracked it and leaned inward. “Hello?” I called, creeping over the floor. “Uh, anyone here? Eliza?” The lights were low, but not out.

There was a persistent noise somewhere inside. It came through the walls and straight for my ears, raising goosebumps. In the hall, I saw a golden glow coming from my old room. I didn't know what was going on, but this wasn't a party. Where was everyone? Snatching a large candle that Eliza had decorated the counter with, I clutched it tight. Maybe things were fine, or maybe something bad had happened. Weapons were always good; smart. Reaching the door, I strained—was that music? Christmas music? The hinges squeaked as I swung the door, hefting the candle high. What I saw inside made me drop it to the floor. Snow. My old room was covered in snow. Huck was lying on the bed, dressed in his usual jeans, but he'd thrown on a dark blue vest over a silver, button-up shirt beneath. It was classy. It wasn't him at all. “Am I hallucinating?” I whispered. Beaming, Huck motioned for me to enter. “What do you think?” Stunned, I managed to ask, “How?” Every tooth in his head was showing. Standing, he came to me, taking my hands. Without room for argument, he tugged me inside. My heels pushed over the snow, and I swear, it was cold.

Letting him go, I knelt down, touching the white fluff. It wasn't exactly wet, and it didn't hold a shape when I tried to make a ball. “This isn't real snow,” I said, but I was smiling. Dropping beside me, he nudged me until I was sitting right on the stuff. Scooping some into his palm, he let it drift down. In the light of the candles and Christmas lights he'd decorated the room with, it glimmered like gems. “Yeah, it's not real snow. But it'll do, I hope.” I pushed my hands into it, unable to stop playing with the wondrous stuff. “How did you do this? Why did you do this?” Leaning into me, Huxton lifted my palm. In the white, false snow, he drew a circle. It made my skin tingle. I expected to see my breath in the air, and when I didn't, I was shocked. “It's essentially water soaked plastic,” he explained. “I bought a bunch of it. Eliza was in on my plan. I knew if I told you to come to my place, you'd suspect something. I wanted to surprise you.” Staring into his emerald depths, I noticed the tiny, faded scar above his eye. He'd recovered from the final fight over a week ago, but the marks still haunted us both. “You remembered that I wanted to see snow.” Nodding, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His scent, all warm leather and wild musk, hit my brain.

“That day in the gym, you were so sad. I realized that between the Dog House and your Gram, you were stuck here in LA. So,” he said, cupping my chin. “I brought the snow to you.” Shutting my eyes, I let my chest flare. I held a single breath, focusing, mind working vigorously. “What are you doing?” Huck asked, squeezing my hand. Lifting some of the powder, I sprinkled it over our heads and smiled wide. “I'm committing this to memory; the day the love of my life delivered me a white Christmas. That deserves remembering.” Tickling a kiss gingerly over my chin, then my lips, his voice was heavy and thick. “Everything we do is worth remembering, Zoe. Every little god damn thing.” Pushing him down onto the white rug, I wrapped my mouth tight on his. I wanted to taste him and swallow him and never, ever stop. Bits of snow tumbled off of his eyelashes. “Huxton Blake,” I said. “What are you doing to me?” “The question,” he whispered, nibbling the side of my ear, “Is what am I going to do to you?” Shivering in bliss, I pressed against him. Together, in that tiny room of color and dreams, we rolled around and created snow angels. This was what love was. A thing crafted from strength, and blood, and a desire to make everything right.

Perfection. That was my life with Huck. My present... And my future. THE END

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A USA Today Bestselling Author, Nora Flite loves to write new adult romance (especially the dramatic, gritty kind!) Inspired by the complicated events and wild experiences of her own life, she wants to share those stories with her audience. Born in the tiniest state, coming from what was essentially dirt, she's learned to embrace and appreciate every opportunity the world gives her. She's also, possibly, addicted to coffee and sushi. Not at the same time, of course. Check out her website, www.NoraFlite.com Also email her at [email protected] if you want to say hello! Hearing from fans is the best!

-Nora Flite

Also from Nora Flite: Last of the Bad Boys Only Pretend For the Thrill For the Fight For the Bond Hard Body Rock Slow Body Rock Flawed Body Rock True Body Rock Watch Me Fall

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