What He Seeks (What He Wants, B - Hannah Ford

WHAT HE SEEKS (WHAT HE WANTS, BOOK TWENTY)

HANNAH FORD

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WHAT HE SEEKS

Copyright © 2016 by Hannah Ford All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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WHAT HE SEEKS

(WHAT HE WANTS, BOOK TWENTY)

N OAH I ’d never felt such rage as I did

when I heard his voice.

He’d tried to hurt her, tried to kill her. Just the thought of it made me want to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until he couldn’t breathe, until his lips turned blue and his body went limp. I had never understood how someone could be capable of killing another human being. But the thought of his hands on her body, the thought of him even looking at her made me murderous. “Well, well, well,” Colin Worthington said, chuckling through the phone. “If it isn’t Noah Cutler, lawyer extraordinaire.” “You piece of shit,” I growled. “Where are you?”

I was up and out of my chair, closing the blinds in the conference room one by one. I wouldn’t have put it past this fucked up prick to be outside somewhere, watching her. “Never ask a question you don’t know the answer to,” Worthington said. “Tsk, tsk, Noah. That’s the first rule of being a good lawyer. I expected you to know better than that.” “Charlotte, call the police,” I said to her calmly. “It won’t do any good,” Worthington said, sighing. “The police are idiots. You should understand that better than anyone, Noah, after how they thought you were the one who’d killed those women.” He sighed. “I should have

killed Charlotte when I had the chance, but she’s… God, she’s special. I cannot wait to see her again.” His voice sounded gleeful, and I felt the blistering rage blow through my veins like the heat from a furnace. “You son of a bitch,” I said. “If you come near her, I will kill you. I will pull you limb from limb and I will make it hurt. I will enjoy it.” “We’ll see.” “How’s your eye?” I asked. “Healing up nicely, is it?” “Yeah, well, you know what they say about eyes.” “You can’t get far with only one?” “An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind.” He began to laugh then, a crazy,

high pitched giggle, and then the line went dead. The sick reality of the situation hit me, making the anger inside of me intensify, which I hadn’t thought was possible. A madman was on the loose. And he was after the only woman I’d ever truly loved.

C HARLOTTE N oah hung up the phone and looked at me, his dark eyes smoldering with

rage. But I could see something else there, too. He was rattled. Just a little, but he was rattled. Even when he’d been accused of murder, even when it seemed as if he might go to jail for it, nothing had been able to penetrate his stoicism. Until now. “What did he say?” I asked. “How did he...” But he was already back on the phone, dialing the police, asking for Detective Rake. He’d told me to call them, but I’d frozen. While he waited for an answer, he reached into the drawer of the conference table and pulled out a remote, pointed it at the flat screen TV that was mounted on the wall and tuned

it to New York One. I was dimly aware that Noah had begun talking to Detective Rake as a picture of Professor Worthington’s face filled the screen, along with pictures of two women, both of them wearing prison guard uniforms, with the caption “TWO FEMALE GUARDS PRESUMED DEAD IN PRISON BREAK.” I swallowed the panic that was rising in my throat. Professor Worthington had killed two guards. “What we know at this hour is that two female prison guards are dead, and an accused killer is on the loose. One of the guards, twenty-seven-year-old Rayanne Mancuso, is accused of aiding

the prisoner, Colin Worthington, in his escape. The two apparently struck up an inappropriate relationship while Worthington awaited trial for the murder of three young women. Authorities are urging anyone with information on the whereabouts of this escaped killer to call the number at the bottom of your screen. Schools in the area are on lockdown, and local residents are urged to stay in their homes…” “The police are on it, obviously,” Noah said, hanging up the phone. He rolled his eyes. “They’ll attempt to trace the call.” “Ha,” Clementine said sarcastically from the other side of the table. Her voice startled me. I’d almost

forgotten she was there, that we’d been in the middle of a meeting about the Lilah Parks case. “You don’t think they’ll be able to?” I asked. “No,” she said. “The professor’s too smart for that.” She didn’t elaborate, evidently deciding that whatever knowledge she had about what the professor might have done to keep himself from getting the call traced was above my level of intelligence. Instead, she turned back to Noah. “What can I do?” “Take Lilah back to the hotel,” he said. He was rushing over to me, sitting down in the chair next to mine, turning

me to him. My hands were shaking, and he picked them up and brought them to his lips, kissed them softly. “Okay,” Clementine said. “And then what?” “Then nothing,” Noah said. “Just make sure you keep an eye on her while I deal with this.” He was talking to Clementine, but he was distracted, his eyes on me, the concern on his face evident. “But there’s – ” she started. “Thank you,” Noah said sharply, his tone conveying her dismissal. She sighed and then I heard her gathering her things and the click of the door as she shut it behind her.

“Noah,” I said once she was gone, and my voice sounded tinny and far away. It was like I was having some kind of delayed reaction, almost like I’d been numb before and now my feelings were waking up, they were coming alive, and I could feel the dread multiplying inside of me, threatening to take over. “It’s okay,” he said, “It’s okay.” He was pulling me to him, holding me, pressing me against his strong chest. My heart was beating fast, my stomach turning. I gripped his body, my hands curling around his back. “Shh, baby,” he murmured as he stroked my hair. “It’s okay, baby, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

Images flash banged through my mind as I remembered that night at Force, the feel of the professor’s hands on my body, the grittiness of the air, the dullness in Mikayla’s eyes, the way Noah had looked when he’d been on the ground, stabbed, so much blood on the ground around him. I took in a shaking breath and held onto him as he rocked me. “Baby,” he murmured into my hair. “Baby, it’s okay, I’m going to keep you safe.” After a few moments, he pulled back and looked at me. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”

we got back to our apartment, m W hen mother was sitting at the dining room table. There was a magazine spread out in front of her, and she’d helped herself to a glass of white wine and some of the cheese she and Noah had shared the night before. “Noah!” she said brightly when she saw him. “It’s wonderful to see you!” She got up and came over to greet him. She was all dressed up in a black sweater dress that clung to her body and chunky black boots with a kitten heel. A long silver chain necklace was looped around her neck, and her makeup was perfectly applied. Noah smiled as she kissed him on both cheeks, but I could tell he was

distracted. “Why are you all dressed up?” I asked as Docket came running over to me, his tail wagging. I gave him a scratch under the chin. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch in Midtown,” my mom said. “Some place downtown.” She smoothed her dress down over her hips. “What friend?” I frowned. She’d never mentioned anything about having a friend in the city. “An old friend from school,” she said, and I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but I thought I saw her cheeks color slightly. I remembered the way she’d been on the phone late last night, talking in hushed tones, and I

wondered again who she’d been talking to. What are you up to? I thought, watching her carefully. But the blush on her cheeks was gone now, the expression on her face betraying nothing. “I figured it would be good for me to spend some time out of the apartment,” she said pointedly. She gave Noah a look, as if the two of them were in on some kind of secret. “Charlotte seemed very upset last night. I’m so glad you two were able to patch things up.” “I am, too.” Noah’s jaw twitched. He walked over to the bar in the corner and pulled out two glass tumblers and a bottle of scotch. He opened the bottle and filled one of the tumblers a quarter

full, the other halfway. “She really wasn’t herself,” my mom continued, obviously digging around to see if I’d told Noah about our fight and if so, what he thought about my bad behavior. “It was an upsetting night for everyone,” Noah said, capping the bottle of scotch. “Thankfully, it’s all in the past.” “Yes, well,” my mother said. Her hand went to her cheek and she ran her fingers over it. “Luckily I had my heavy duty foundation with me so that I could cover up the marks.” “What marks?” I asked, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “The marks your hand left on my

cheek,” she said. “When you slapped me last night.” She shook her head at Noah and gave a hollow little laugh. “Of course, you know our Charlotte. She gets carried away sometimes. She’s always been that way.” Noah looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I raised my eyebrows back at him and gave an almost imperceptible shake of my head, as if to say, “She was awful and she deserved it and I’ll explain later.” He must have gotten the message. “Charlotte has been through a lot this morning,” he said. “She’s going to need to keep her stress to a minimum.” His voice was commanding, his intent to my mother clear.

“Why?” my mom asked. “What happened this morning?” She sounded vaguely bored, as if there was no way it could be all that interesting. “Colin Worthington escaped from jail.” Noah crossed the kitchen and handed me the tumbler with the least amount of Scotch in it. I wrinkled my nose. “No, thank you.” “Drink it, Charlotte.” I sighed and took a sip, wincing as the dark liquid burned my throat. “What?” my mom asked. Her hand flew to her heart and she glanced around, like she was expecting to see Professor Worthington in the apartment, pointing a gun at her. “The man who tried to kill you?”

“Yes, the one I’m apparently dating,” I said, not able to keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice. “Charlotte, there’s no need to be smart.” She narrowed her eyes at me, and I could tell she was still upset about what happened last night. I was still upset, too. But you’d think that the fact that a man who had tried to kill her daughter was on the loose would have made her a bit more willing to bury the hatchet. Instead, she got a little glint in her eye, a glint I noticed and recognized. It was the look she got when she was about to go in for the kill and really stick it to someone, usually one her society friends who was trying to one up her.

She picked up an envelope from the table and held it out to me. “This came for you this morning,” she said. “Certified mail, so I signed for it.” I took the envelope from her hand. The Middleton University seal was pressed into the top right corner, along with the address for the Office of Academic Excellence, which was just a fancy way of saying the department that was in charge of disciplining people. The envelope was unsealed. “You opened it?” I asked her incredulously. “Of course not,” she lied. “It came like that.” She glanced at her watch. “Well! I better get going. I don’t want to

be late.” She turned to Noah. “Noah, I’m so glad you and Charlotte have patched things up. I explained to her how men in your position are used to a certain level of freedom and therefore expect certain things. I hope Charlotte will be enough for you.” Noah’s eyes darkened. “I could only hope to be half the man Charlotte deserves. She is more than enough for me, more than I ever could have imagined I would be lucky enough to find.” “Yes, well,” my mother said, sounding thrown. She wasn’t used to people pushing back on her, and she definitely hadn’t expected that from Noah, who had been her ally last night.

“I’ll see you two later, perhaps we can have dinner.” There was hopeful lilt at the end of her voice, and I could tell she was recovering already, imagining herself being whisked off to some expensive restaurant where she’d be wined and dined. She kissed me on both cheeks, then kissed Noah on both cheeks, and then she was gone. I turned the letter over in my hand. “What is it?” Noah asked. “What does it say?” “I don’t know.” I pulled the single cream-colored sheet out of the envelope.

ear Ms. Holloway,

Your presence is requested at a D meeting to discuss a current disciplinary infraction that has been brought to our attention, regarding your involvement with Mr. Noah Cutler, a defendant whose case you worked on while representing Middleton University. This session will be informal in its scope. Please be advised that there will be people there to speak on their knowledge of your involvement with Mr. Cutler. Those people are: Dr. Jason Cartwright Joshua J. James Please call us to schedule this meeting at your earliest convenience. Sincerely,

Dr. Linda Blinson, Office Of Student Excellence and Conduct.

M y hand was shaking.

A meeting. They wanted to have a meeting about me and Noah. Noah took the letter from me and read it, his eyes scanning the page. His hand tightened around the paper. “This is bullshit,” he said. “We’ll sue them.” “Sue them? For what?” “For harassment. Sexism. Title Nine violations.” “We can’t sue them, Noah.” I swallowed. “Is this... is it because of whatever…” Lameuix. What was it that Noah had

said about him? That he and his group might be behind this complaint as a way to keep me from snooping around about the missing girls from Force? “I don’t know.” “Well, can you… can you tell them that I’m not… that I’m not looking into those girls anymore?” “I’m working on it, Charlotte. In the meantime, though, we will have to deal with this meeting.” “Okay.” Anxiety rushed through me as I imagined myself in a meeting with Jason and Josh, the two of them talking about my involvement with Noah. I took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m going with you.” Noah loosened his tie and drained the rest of

his drink, then returned to the bar and pulled out the bottle of scotch. “Going with me where?” “To the meeting.” “You’re joking, right?” “Why would I joke about that?” “You can’t go to the meeting with me, Noah. The meeting is about my relationship with you, about how it’s breaking the rules! You can’t show up with me.” “I don’t see what the problem is.” I gaped at him. “The problem is that it looks bad.” “That’s exactly what they want, Charlotte. They want to make you feel like you’ve done something wrong.” He shook his head and began refilling his

glass. “I have done something wrong, Noah. They’re right. It was unprofessional for me to get involved with you when I was working on your case.” “Which is why I need to be with you. I will act as your counsel.” “It’s not a trial, Noah. It’s just a meeting.” “It is not just a meeting, Charlotte.” He was pacing across the kitchen now, faster and faster, his strides keeping pace with his emotions. “If the police asked you to come down to the station and told you it was no big deal, that they just wanted to ask you a few questions, you would never show up there without

counsel, would you?” “No.” “Then how is this any different?” “Because I’m not being arrested, Noah. And because I don’t want to antagonize them!” “Jesus, Charlotte!” he said, and he slammed his glass down on the breakfast bar, then gripped the marble and leaned forward, staring down at the floor while he tried to calm himself down. “You are very naïve about some things, and I am not going to let you sabotage yourself.” “I need to be able to make my own decisions.” My body was wired with tension, the stress of finding out that Professor Worthington was out of jail coupled with the stress of getting this

letter tying me into a knot. “You can make your own decisions when you make the right ones.” “You know, you have a lot of nerve,” I said, and his eyes widened at my disobedience. “I agreed not to bring up Lameuix, to not ask you any questions, to give up looking for Mikayla even though it was something that was very important to me. And now you want more control. You can’t do that, Noah.” “I can and I will.” “No.” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest, defiant. “No. You can’t just make unilateral decisions about my future.” “About our future.” “If it’s ours, then why don’t I get any

say?” “Because that is what you agreed to,” he growled. “You agreed to let me have control.” “Not of everything!” “Yes, of everything.” He crossed the room to me and grabbed my arms, uncrossing them from my chest as his pelvis pushed into my hips and pinned me against the counter. “You will submit to me, Charlotte. You are my fiancé, my submissive, my fucking property as far as you’re concerned.” My body flushed at his closeness, at the possessive tone in his voice, at the way he was pushing into me, at the words he’d said, calling me his property. He’d trained me to react to

those things, and I felt a familiar warmth settle between my legs. He towered over me, his full six-foot three frame making me feel small, delicate, the way no other man ever had, and I loved his broadness, his strength, the way he handled my body so easily. “You don’t own me, Noah,” I said, wanting to prove to both him and myself that he hadn’t broken me completely. He took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “Your smart mouth is going to push me, Charlotte.” “To do what?” I dared. I was like a petulant child, testing him, trying to get him to react to me with my bad behavior. “To make me shut you up,” he growled and then his mouth was on mine

as his kiss took me and his hands wandered down to my ass, pulling me into him. I groaned as he picked me up and set me down on the counter, then grabbed my legs and wrapped them around his waist. His cock was already rock hard through his dress pants, and it pushed into me, causing my center to flood with wetness. “You will listen to me, Charlotte,” he breathed into my neck. “You will do as I say.” “No.” My heart was beating fast in my chest, and I felt wild, reckless, drunk with the idea that I could defy him. I wanted to see what he was going to do, wanted to taunt him into doing something

he’d never done before. “I want you to think very carefully about what you’re doing right now,” he said wickedly, and now he didn’t seem angry or mad. In fact, he seemed excited, his chest rising and falling as his breathing came in shorter bursts. “I am thinking about it,” I said, and then I tried to slide off the counter and get away from him, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back toward him. “Charlotte.” His voice was a warning. “You will do as I say.” “No,” I said again. My skin was feverish, flushed. “I won’t.” Noah pulled back and looked at me, his eyes moving over my body, drinking me in. I made sure not to look away so

that he wouldn’t think I was intimidated by his stare. I knew that would make it that much worse, but I’d already pushed him this far, and my body was wired so tight it was screaming for a release. The side of his mouth twitched, and then he leaned into me. “You think this is a game, Charlotte, but I can assure you it’s not.” The first frisson of regret slid up my spine, the first little bit of anxiety as I wondered what he had in store for me. I waited for him to pull me to him and start whatever delicious torture he was planning, but instead he stepped back. He very calmly removed his suit coat, then undid the buttons on the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt and

began rolling them up over his strong forearms. Every movement he made was deliberate, slow, and I realized that whatever he was planning wasn’t going to be a quick release. Instead it would be a slow burn, a tease designed to make me pay for what I’d done. “Noah,” I said and licked my lips. But he didn’t reply. Instead he picked up his drink and took another sip. Then he left the room, leaving me sitting there on the counter. When he returned, he was holding something in his hand, something rubber with a strap on it. I swallowed and thrust my chin into the air defiantly, but now my heart was

beating a staccato rhythm against my rib cage, my bravado beginning to fade. He grinned a mischievous grin, then walked over to me and pulled me to him, pressing his body between my legs again and sliding me forward across the counter. He reached up and began to unbutton my shirt slowly with one hand, the words he’d written on me earlier - BAD GIRL - still visible across my chest. I glanced down, trying to get a look at what he was holding in his other hand, but he caught me and snapped, “Eyes on me.” I moved my gaze back to his. “Do you know your safe word, Charlotte?” he asked huskily.

I nodded. “That’s too bad,” he said. “Because you’re not going to need it.” He slid his index finger down my cleavage, causing my body to ignite into flames. I could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne, so sexy, so masculine, so Noah. “Why not?” I managed. “Because you won’t be able to talk, baby.” He raised his hand then and I saw what he was holding. It looked like a tiny belt with a rubber ball in the middle of the leather straps. A ball gag. My mouth went dry. “You think it’s fun to talk back?” Noah asked, and tugged on the straps.

“We’ll see.” He ran the ball part of the gag up over my stomach, across my breasts, over my neck and up my chin. The scent of the rubber filled my nose and Noah’s dark eyes glinted with desire. “Open your mouth, Charlotte.” I did as I was told and he slipped the ball gag in, and then he was fastening the straps behind my head, buckling me in, leaving me unable to speak. Panic filled my body. My hands flew up and I tried to push him away, but he finished buckling the gag and then grabbed my wrists. He looked deep into my eyes and his gaze searched my face, taking me in, how helpless I was, the panic and fear that I was sure was reflected in my eyes. “You look so sexy, baby,” he murmured,

and then he was leaning in and whispering in my ear. “If you need to safe word, shake your head twice, and I will stop.” He straightened up. “Nod if you understand me.” I nodded. I could taste the rubber in my mouth and the gag made it a tiny bit hard to breath. My nails dug into my palms as I resisted the urge to reach up and yank at it. Noah pressed his hand against my heart. “Relax, baby girl. You’re safe.” I nodded, and all the fear and anxiety flowed out of my body, replaced by a deep aching need for this man that I loved, that I trusted with my whole being. All my nervousness, all my apprehension was gone as I gave myself

to him. He began to unbutton my shirt slowly, his fingers deft and strong, and I knew now why I wanted to be his submissive, why it was such a powerful dynamic. In that moment, I had nothing to worry about. Noah was in charge of my every need, my every move, my every desire. I didn’t have to think about anything. I just had to relinquish myself to him. When he’d finished unbuttoning my blouse, he slipped it off my shoulders gently, his fingers brushing against my skin and causing me to shiver as I was left in just my bra. I moaned, my voice muffled by the gag in my mouth.

“You’re already wet, aren’t you, Charlotte?” I whimpered, because he was right. My panties were already wet, sticking to my pussy like a second skin. He grabbed me around the waist, his huge hands making me feel tiny as he stood me up. His hand slid down and undid the clasp on my skirt and then pulled the zipper down excruciatingly slowly. The whole time his eyes burned into mine, his tall, broad frame towering over me and making me feel delicate and small in a way on other man ever had. He tugged my skirt down over my hips until it pooled on the floor and I stepped out of it, so that I was in just my high heels, bra, and thong. Noah’s thumb

grazed my cheekbone softly and my knees went weak. He crossed the room back to the bar, filled his empty glass, and then took my hand and led me to the living room, pushing me down until I was kneeling on the floor in front of the couch. His eyes bore into mine, and he tipped my chin up to look at him, and then he sat down on the couch, and I was reminded of the first time I was here, in his apartment, the first time I met him, how he’d made me strip and show him my naked body. He leaned back on the couch now and loosened his tie. “Rub your pussy.” I whimpered around the gag in my

mouth. “Rub your pussy, Charlotte, or I will make you do something much, much worse.” He wasn’t one to make empty threats, so I slid my hand down over my stomach and over the outside of my black silk panties, my face flushing red hot at what he was asking me to do. It made me feel helpless, him sitting on the couch while he watched me do something so intimate, while the whole time I was gagged and almost naked, a slave to his every whim. “Rub yourself, baby,” he said, taking a long, slow, casual sip of his Scotch. I rubbed myself over my panties as he watched me. My body was flushed and

my pussy was wet, the silky material under my fingers sticking to my folds as I rubbed. “That’s it, just like that.” He made me touch myself for a few more minutes, the whole time his eyes on me, his body language relaxed, almost disinterested, one hand holding his drink, the other arm slung lazily over the back of the couch. But his eyes burned bright with his possessiveness as he watched me. “Come here, Charlotte,” he said finally, as he set his drink down on the table next to him. I crawled to him and he leaned down and unhooked my bra, letting my breasts tumble from the cups. He grabbed my tits, rubbing his

thumbs over my hard nipples. A moan escaped my lips. He cupped my chin in his hand and squeezed my cheeks together, forcing me to bite down on the ball gag. I tried to cry out, but my scream was almost too muffled to be heard. “You look so sexy gagged.” Noah’s index finger traced my collar bone, and he slid his hand down over my stomach and to my panties, pushing them over to the side so that my pussy was exposed. “This is only the beginning, baby. I haven’t even started to train you properly, and look at you. Look at how dirty you are, with Bad Girl written all over you, on your knees, gagged, with your pussy out.”

I groaned again, the embarrassment and humiliation of what he was saying making me even wetter than I already was. He took my hand in his, raised it to his lips and kissed my knuckles. His lips were warm, the stubble on his chin bristly against my skin. He licked his bottom lip and then began guiding my hand down over my stomach. I tried to pull it away, uncomfortable with touching my body this way, for feeling my curves like this, but he forced me to keep going. “You’re beautiful,” he rasped. “You are so fucking beautiful, Charlotte.” He placed his hand flat over mine and continued sliding it down my body until

it was on my bare pussy. Then he leaned back on the couch again. “Lie back.” I lied back. “Good girl. Spread your legs for me.” I spread them. “Put a finger inside yourself.” I did it, pushing my finger up into my pussy, fucking myself as he watched. It was a turn on, knowing that I was gagged and helpless, naked except for the tiny scrap of material that was my panties, helpless to resist what he required of me. “That’s it, baby, get yourself ready for me.” He took another sip of his drink, slow and controlled, his dark eyes

smoldering, his stare so penetrating I swore I could feel it. I groaned again around my gag as he removed his tie and then began to unbutton his shirt. His body began to come into view, his hard pecs, the defined lines of his abs, the soft line of hair that started at his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his dress pants. “Come closer,” he commanded. I came to him and he took my hands in his, placed them on his thighs. “Take my cock out.” I undid his pants, sliding his zipper down and pulling his cock out. It was already rock hard. I moaned as he wrapped my hand around his dick and guided it up and down on his shaft.

“Good girl. Jerk me off.” I stroked him up and down obediently, until he took his dick in his hand and rubbed it over my cheek. “Are you going to talk back again, baby?” he asked. “Are you going to disobey me like that again?” I couldn’t reply, and he smiled wickedly as he continued to rub his cock over my cheeks. “Don’t have much to say now, do you?” He leaned forward and grabbed my hair, pulled my head back and lowered his mouth to my neck and began sucking on the hollow of my throat. His tongue licked a searing trail down my body to my cleavage before he released his grip on my hair and began unbuckling the straps of my gag and

pulling the ball out of my mouth. I gasped as the gag was removed and I got used to my newfound freedom. I was breathing heavily, my chest rising and falling, the excitement and arousal pulsing through me. “Sir – ” I started, but Noah gave me a chastising look. And then he was pushing his cock into my mouth, shutting me up as his hand rested firmly on the back of my head and he began to fuck my mouth. I sucked on him hungrily, tasting his skin, the saltiness of his precum. “Look at me, Charlotte,” he growled, and I looked at him, our eyes locking as I sucked him off. He took my hand in his, wrapped it around his shaft, made me

jerk him off while I blew him, my hand and mouth working together on his dick. “Fuck, that feels good,” he groaned, and I loved that I was exciting him this way. My mouth moved faster and Noah stood up so he could get a better angle on me, pushing deeper down my throat. “You look so good blowing me, baby,” he murmured, and then he was pulling his cock out of my mouth, jerking it in his hand slowly as he pressed his balls to my lips. I swirled my tongue over his sensitive skin, and then he was fucking my mouth again, this time harder and faster, making me take his shaft so deep I could feel the head of his dick against the back of my throat.

Finally he pulled out of me. He stared down at me, his eyes smoldering with desire, and I felt my whole body go weak with my want for him. His body was perfection, his chest chiseled and strong, his six pack defined. I reached up and traced the outline of his abs, wondering if he would punish me for touching him. But instead he just stared down at me, his eyes hooded, the strong line of his jaw silhouetted from the light behind him. “Charlotte,” he whispered. He ran a finger over my cheek as I stared up at him, totally submissive to him, waiting for him to give me my next instruction. I saw the love he had for me reflected in his eyes, and my chest

caught again at the fact that this amazing man could feel this way about me, and I about him, and how giving myself to him in this way could make me feel closer to him than I’d ever felt to another person in my life, closer than I ever could have imagined was even possible. Noah licked his bottom lip and then the slight vulnerability I’d seen reflected briefly in his expression was gone. He pulled his shoulders back, towering over me. “Go sit on the couch, Charlotte.” I scrambled onto the couch as he finished removing his pants. “Lie back.” I leaned back and he slid my panties off, then grabbed my legs under the

knees, pushed them all the way back and then pressed his body into mine and thrust inside of me in one long, breathtaking stroke. “Oh my God,” I gasped as he filled me. My pussy had been soaking wet and now I was even wetter. He began to fuck me, hard, fast, unrelenting, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming as he pinned my legs down and fucked me harder and harder, so hard my hands gripped the couch underneath me and my tits bounced as he continued his assault on my body. His shaft brushed against my clit with every stroke, and his hands gripped my legs, his nails digging into my skin,

the sting of it a contrast to the hot pleasure that was radiating from between my legs. I couldn’t take it anymore, and I knew I was going to come soon. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed, and I wanted to ask him, but I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to talk. “Noah,” I started, but his brow furrowed and then his hand wrapped around my neck, applying just the tiniest bit of pressure. I clamped my mouth shut, and his eyes locked onto mine and I fell into him, tumbling, spinning, whirling, and there was nothing in this moment except the two of us, our bodies joined together, and then I came, hard, the ripples of

exquisite pleasure overwhelming me as my pussy convulsed on his cock. “Good girl,” he said, and then his hand was moving from my throat down to my clit, thumbing it gently as my orgasm swelled even harder and more intense. When I was done, he pulled out of me and then slid me off the couch and back onto my knees, shoving his dick back into my mouth, this time more brutal even than before, pushing me down on it and holding me there, making me choke as he began to come against the back of my throat. I swallowed, then another shot hit me, the acrid taste of his cum filling my mouth. It was my instinct to pull back,

but he held me tight as another shot erupted from the head of his dick, coating the back of my throat. When he’d finished, he pulled out of my mouth, and I slumped over, my hands on my knees, struggling to catch my breath, my body spent and used. “And that,” Noah said, his chest heaving with exertion as he looked down at me. “Is why you don’t talk back.”

H e drew me a bath and carried me

to the bathroom, placing me in the water before leaving me, and I took my time

relaxing in the hot water, trying to clear my mind from the thoughts that swirled through me like a tornado. When I’d been in there so long that my fingers were pruney and my body as relaxed as it was going to get, I climbed out and began to get ready for bed even though it was still early. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, then pulled on a pair of pajamas that Noah had laid out for me -- a teeny little pink tank top with spaghetti straps that clung to my tits and a matching see-through thong. When I came out of the bathroom he was sitting on the bed, reading on his iPad. He’d showered in the guest bath, and his hair was damp and mussed, but he hadn’t shaved, and stubble darkened

his cheeks. He was dressed in black track pants and a crisp white t-shirt that showed off his tan skin and clung to the roped cords of his biceps. “Hi,” I said shyly. “Hey, gorgeous.” He stood up and took my hand, began to lead me over to my side of the bed. But I caught sight of something outside, a glimpse red and blue and white lights flashing, the beams dancing off the glass window pane. I peeked outside to see a police car pulling up across the street, the lights flashing. “Is that because of me?” I asked, placing my hand against the glass. Noah nodded gravely. “Yes.” “They think Professor Worthington

might come here?” He hesitated. “They’re not sure.” “They think he wants to hurt me.” “They think it’s more likely that he wants to escape more than he wants to hurt you. So it’s just a precaution. They’re keeping an eye on the building.” He was standing behind me and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me toward him and resting his chin on my head. I breathed in the scent of him, his laundry detergent and the clean scent of his soap. His body enveloped mine and I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the safe feeling of being in his arms. “And you’re okay with that?” I asked. I knew how he felt about the

police, how he didn’t trust them to get it right. I felt him tense behind me and I turned around. “Noah?” “Yes, I’m okay with it.” But I could see something else in his eyes. “What?” I demanded. “What is it?” “As long as we have backups in place, I could give a fuck what the police do.” “What do you mean, back ups?” “I’ve hired a private security team.” “Like bodyguards?” I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “You won’t even know they’re there.” My eyes filled with tears and I squeezed them shut. “I hate this. I hate

that it’s happening.” “Hey,” Noah said, and he reached down and tipped my chin up, his gaze searching my face. “I told you I would keep you safe. Do you believe that?” I nodded. “Yes.” “Then let me take care of everything.” I sniffed. “Okay.” He wrapped his arms back around me, his body enveloping mine, and I leaned my head against his chest as the lights from the police cruiser swirled around outside and I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, he was right and that everything really would be okay.

never came home that nigh M yShemother sent me a text just before midnight, saying that she wouldn’t be returning to Noah’s, that she was staying over at her friend’s apartment. I was too tired to question it, and too annoyed that she’d woken me up to wonder whether or not it was strange. I read the text and then returned my phone to the nightstand. I rolled over and listened to the sound of Noah’s breathing, soft and steady. He looked relaxed in sleep, but the fact that he’d gone to bed so early betrayed the toll the day had taken on him. He never went to bed this early, instead staying up late working and then getting up early to go running or lift at the gym.

He must have felt me stirring, because he woke, too, smiled at me sleepily, then reached for me and snuggled me close to him, his lips brushing against my neck. “I love you, baby,” he murmured groggily. Docket sighed in contentment at our feet, and I closed my eyes and fell back asleep. When I woke again, it was nine am, and Docket was barking as he ran into the room and jumped onto the bed where he immediately began to lick my face. I giggled. He was too cute for him to be annoyed with him. Noah appeared a second later, dressed in his running clothes, holding a plate of toast with peanut butter and a

cup of coffee. “Morning, sleepy. “ He set the plate and the coffee cup down on the nightstand next to me. “You must have been tired.” “I was,” I said, reaching for the coffee and taking a sip. I’d never been into coffee until I’d met Noah, and now I was starting to get used to it, to need it in the morning, just another one of my new addictions that he was responsible for. “We’ve already been out for a run, haven’t we, Docket?” he asked. Docket barked happily, then grabbed a piece of toast off the dish and ran into the living room with it. “Docket!” Noah called after him, but Docket paid him no mind.

“You know there’s going to be peanut butter all over the couch now,” I said, biting back my laughter. I thought it was hilarious that Noah could control everyone in his orbit except for a dog. Noah sighed and shook his head, then stood up and stripped off his t-shirt. I shivered as my eyes roamed over the V of his hips. “I’m going to shower, then I have some running around to do,” he said. I stopped with my coffee cup halfway to my lips. “What kind of running around?” “Some things I need to take care of for the Lilah Parks case.” “Oh.” I set the coffee cup down on the nightstand. “Are you going to see

Lilah?” “No.” He was in the bathroom now, talking to me through the open door, and I heard the sound of the shower turning on. “Then were are you going?” “To talk to one of the girls in the those pictures.” “What pictures?” I asked. Noah returned to the doorway of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, his body language relaxed and languid. “The ones on Ryan Aqualino’s cell phone.” “Oh, you mean the phone that Clementine stole from the murder scene?” I asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm from my voice or the fact that I

was enjoying taking a shot at Clementine. “Yes.” He said it simply, like it was normal for someone to steal evidence from a murder scene and not something that could get you disbarred and/or arrested. “But if I can talk to one of the girls on that phone and get her to testify, then the stolen phone won’t be an issue now, will it?” I nodded grudgingly. He was being smart. He was going to try to find a way to get Ryan’s proclivity for torturing women brought up during trial without having to use the phone. “I’ll go with you.” I picked up the remaining piece of peanut butter toast and took a bite nonchalantly, like it was

a given that I would go with him. And why shouldn’t it have been? I was working on the case, too. I had a right to be involved in whatever it was that Noah was doing. But obviously Noah didn’t feel the same way, because he shook his head. “No.” “Why not?” “Because it’s too dangerous.” “What’s too dangerous?” I pressed. “Driving around New York City looking for prostitutes.” “How do you know they were prostitutes?” “Clementine did some digging.” Of course she did. “And you’ve identified one of the women in the

pictures?” Noah nodded. “What makes you think she’s going to talk to you?” His mouth twitched into a grin. “My charming personality.” I smiled, and he crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to me, then smoothed a strand of hair back from my face. “It’s Saturday morning, Charlotte. You’ve been through a lot. You should stay here and relax. Try not to think about school or the case.” “I don’t want to stay here. If I stay here, all I’m going to be doing is thinking about school and the case and...” I couldn’t bring myself to say his name. My hand tightened around the

blanket under me, twisting the fabric hard between my fingers. He sighed. “It’s not safe.” “Oh, and I’m safe here?” I countered. “Yes.” He nodded. “There will be a guard stationed outside the apartment, and three more outside of the building.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to stay here with guards watching me, Noah. I want to go with you. I feel safer with you.” It was true. Yes, I wanted to go with him, and I knew there was a chance that me telling him I felt safer going with him would change his mind. But it was also true – I did feel safer with him. How could I feel safe here with just

some guard who I’d never even met before? “Then I’ll stay here. I’ll send someone else to go talk to Bella.” “No!” My hand was twisting the blanket so hard now that I could feel my nails digging into my palms through the fabric. “Don’t you understand? If we do that, then Professor Worthington’s won. He wants us to be nervous, he wants us to be scared.” I reached out and took Noah’s face in my hands. He closed his eyes and I leaned my forehead against his. His lips met mine, a soft, sensuous kiss that stoked a hot liquid flame deep in my belly as his stubble brushed

against my chin. “Charlotte,” he said gruffly when he pulled away. “Please understand. I cannot put you in harm’s way.” “I won’t be in harm’s way. I’ll be with you.” He started to speak, but I cut him off. “Please, Noah. I don’t want to be a prisoner to Professor Worthington. Please.” His hand rested on my upper arm, his grip tightening as he struggled with his desire to keep me safe and his desire to keep me happy, the two of them battling as I held my breath to see which one would emerge the victor. “Fine,” he said finally. “But you will not speak. You will not move unless I tell you to. Do you understand me?”

“Promise,” I said, and put my hand over my heart. “I am not kidding, Charlotte.” “Me neither,” I said, and I was kicking the covers off and running to get dressed.

T

wo hours later, Noah and I pulled up in front of a The Sunsplash Diner in Queens. The sign outside was a faded turquoise, with the name of the restaurant spelled out in a swirly script and a palm tree in the center of it. A group of men huddled on the corner of the street, their arms thick with tattoos. A homeless man dressed in a tattered flannel shirt rushed

to Noah’s car. He was holding a squeegee and a bucket, and he began to wash the windshield, until Noah rolled down the window and handed him a hundred dollar bill. The man’s eyes widened, and he shoved it in his pocket and scampered off. Noah checked the rearview mirror, watching the group of men on the corner. “You stay close to me,” he said. “And do not talk to anyone.” “Okay.” Suddenly the sound of barking pierced the air and the whole car shook as something pushed against my window. I jumped and leaned toward Noah, pushing my upper body into his. I turned back to see a black dog, his paws

up against the window, barking at me maniacally. A man tugged on his leash and pulled the dog down street, smiling at me as he went, his eyes dead with the look of someone who was coming down from a bad trip. My heart galloped in my chest. “You okay?” Noah asked, as I slowly disentangled myself from his arms. “Yes. “Charlotte,” he said. “Yeah?” “If you want me to take you home, just say the word.” “No. I’m okay.” He looked at me. “No one is going to hurt you, do you understand me?”

“Because you have the strength of three burly men?” I asked, only half joking. “No. Because I have the strength of four burly men.” I laughed as he got out and walked around to my side of the car, opening the door and helping me out. “Stay close to me,” he commanded, taking my hand and leading me up the sidewalk toward the diner. He went in first and I followed him, the bell on the door tinkling as the scent of home fries and fresh coffee hit my nose. “You can have a seat anywhere,” the dark-haired girl behind the register said to us absentmindedly, glancing up at us

briefly as she totaled receipts by hand. “If there aren’t any free seats, just put your name on the list.” Noah and I found a booth at the front of the restaurant against the plate glass windows, the only empty seat in the whole place. “This place must be popular,” I remarked as Noah pulled menus from behind the container of condiments. “Hungry?” he asked, opening a menu and setting it down in front of me. “Starving.” “Good. You hardly ate anything yesterday.” He looked out the plate glass window, his eyes scanning the street for threats like a soldier scanning the perimeter.

“So what do we know about this girl?” I asked as I studied the list of breakfast items that were laid out on the laminated menu. “Brief me.” “Her name is Bella. She’s twentyone years old. She works here fulltime. That’s all I know.” “If she works here, then how can she be a prostitute, too?” “Maybe she’s left that behind her.” “And now we’re here to dredge it all up again?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound like a very good plan.” But before Noah could answer, a waitress appeared at our table. “Sorry,” she said. “I hope you guys haven’t been waiting long.” I recognized her immediately from the pictures on

Ryan Aqualino’s phone, even though her face had been bruised and battered then. She had dark curly hair and freckles over her nose, her eyes bright and blue. There was a small scar on her chin and I wondered if it was left over from what he’d done to her. She smiled, showing straight white teeth. “We’re short staffed today. Can I get you something to drink? Or are you ready to order?” “We’re ready to order,” Noah said, without even bothering to consult me. “Blueberry pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. For both of us. And coffee.” “You got it,” she said, scribbling it all down on her pad before sticking her pencil behind her ear and heading back

toward the kitchen. I raised my eyebrows at Noah. “Hungry, are you?” “I find that running really works up my appetite.” “Oh, yeah?” “Yes. That and fucking.” His voice was low and growly, and I knew he was thinking of what we’d done yesterday, how he’d gagged me and pushed my legs up over my had, fucking me until I was sore and aching. Heat rose on my cheeks. A second later, Bella returned and set down two mugs of coffee. Once she was gone again, Noah took a sip, wincing at the bitterness. “Sorry, Mr. Snobby,” I teased,

rolling my eyes. “You’ll have to make do with something other than your twohundred-dollars-a-pound freshly ground French roast.” “Charlotte, please refrain from name calling,” he said, his hand tightening around the handle of his mug. “And rolling your eyes is a sure way to get yourself punished.” “Promise?” I asked, enjoying the flash of anger in his eyes at my back talk, the way his jaw tightened as he filed it away for later. But I knew when it was time to stop pushing my luck. “Okay, so what’s the plan?” I dumped a bunch of sugar and cream into my coffee and stirred it with my spoon before taking a sip. I didn’t

know what Noah was being so dramatic about – the coffee tasted fine to me. “The plan?” “Yes. Like, how are we going to approach Bella about Ryan?” “We’re just going to ask her.” I frowned. “Ask her what?” “Ask her if she knew Ryan Aqualino.” “She’s going to lie.” “No, she won’t.” “Yes, she will.” “People love to talk about their lives, Charlotte,” Noah said. “You watch.” “Okay, master,” I said. “Teach me.” I meant for him to teach me about the law, but an amused look crossed his

face. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Ms. Holloway.” I blushed again. When our food came, Noah didn’t ask Bella about her involvement with Ryan. Instead, he dug into his pancakes, watching me carefully as I took a tiny bite. I’d though I was hungry, but now that there was actually food in front of me, I couldn’t bring myself to eat, probably because of all the stress I’d been under. “Charlotte, you need to eat.” Noah reached across the table and cut my pancakes for me, then doused them in syrup. “I don’t think so much sugar and so many carbs are good for me.”

“You don’t need to worry about sugar and carbs, you need to worry about eating something so that you don’t get weak.” I almost laughed at the thought of my curvy body wasting away to nothing, but I took a bite obediently, and was surprised to find that the pancakes actually tasted delicious -- warm and sweet against my tongue. Noah nodded in satisfaction. “Do you think I should text my mom?” I asked. “I haven’t heard from her since last night.” “I’m sure she’s fine.” I dug through my bag and pulled out my phone to see if there was a new text from my mom.

There wasn’t, but there was a notification of a new email. It was from Dr. Jason Cartwright. Charlotte, I’d like to meet with you to discuss what I’m going to be saying at your disciplinary meeting. I don’t want there to be any surprises. Can you stop by my office this afternoon at one o’clock? Jason A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t like the way he was calling it a disciplinary meeting. And what did he mean, he didn’t want there to be any surprises? What was he planning on telling them? “What is it?” Noah demanded, and he reached over and took the phone out

of my hands. His face darkened as he read the email. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not.” “Noah –” “No.” I picked up my fork and took another piece of pancake, forcing myself to eat it, even though my stomach was churning. Then I took another sip of coffee and swallowed. “Noah, he’s going to tell me what he’s going to say at the meeting.” “So what? I don’t give a shit what that asshole’s going to say.” “Well, you should! He’s going to be one of the voices they listen to when it comes to deciding what to do with me.” “No one is going to decide what to

do with you, Charlotte.” He stabbed his fork into his eggs angrily. “Except for me.” “Noah. This is important to me.” I thrust my chin into the air and he sighed. “Plus, if we know what he’s going to say, we can figure out how to combat it. Think of it that way. It’s like a tactical advantage.” “I’m going with you.” “To meet with him?” “Yes.” “Noah!” I threw my hands up into the air and shook my head. “If you show up with me, it’s going to look really bad.” “Like I give a shit. This guy is obviously trying to get into your pants, Charlotte. I will not allow you to be

alone with him.” “What?” I repeated incredulously. “Noah, he’s a therapist.” “Oh, and a therapist can’t want one of their patients? Why the hell else does he need to meet with you on a Saturday?” He rolled his eyes and took the last bite of his pancakes. “Don’t be naïve, Charlotte. Therapists falling in love with their patients is one of the most common things in the world.” “Every man I come in contact with doesn’t want me, Noah.” “Yes, Charlotte, they do.” “Why would you think that?” “Because I am a man, and I know how men think. You are beautiful, and smart, and sexy as hell. You are

everything anyone would ever want, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone steal you from me.” His voice swelled with emotion on that last part, and I caught the briefest glimpse of the vulnerability that lurked behind his alpha exterior. “So what should I tell him?” I asked, my finger hovering over the reply button. If I was going to make it there for one o’clock, we would have to go directly from here to Jason’s office – there wasn’t time to stop home first. “Tell him we’ll be there.” “Noah!” He shrugged and leaned back in the booth, his shoulders thrust back in determination, as if to say take it or

leave it. I took a deep breath, trying to figure out of if there was a way to get what I wanted. I wrapped my fingers around my coffee cup, mulling things over in my mind. “I’d like to negotiate,” I said finally. “Oh, really?” An amused smile tugged at the corner of Noah’s full lips. He draped his arms across the back of the booth. He’d finished his breakfast, his plate completely empty, and I marveled at the way he could eat what he’d just eaten and have a body that looked as if it had been carved from granite. “Yes,” I said, swallowing nervously. “I’m listening, counselor.”

“You take me to the meeting, but you wait in the car.” “No.” “Final offer,” I said. He started to open his mouth, but I cut him off. “Noah,” I said softly. “Please, this is… this is my career, my future.” He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers together. “I will wait in the car,” he said finally. “For ten minutes. If you are not out in ten minutes, I will come in there and get you.” I nodded. “Okay.” “I’m not kidding, Charlotte. Ten minutes, and then I will come into the building, throw you over my shoulder,

and carry you out of there in front of everyone.” His voice was hard as steel, and I knew that as ridiculous as the thought of him throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me out of the building was, it was by no means an empty threat. “Okay,” I said, typing a reply to Jason letting him know I would be there as Bella returned to our table and refilled our coffee. I waited again for Noah to bring up Ryan and the pictures we’d found on the cell phone, but he didn’t. And he still didn’t, even when we’d finished eating, even when Bella was done clearing the table and had us brought the check. It wasn’t until Noah

placed his credit card on the little plastic tray and Bella had returned from running it through the reader that Noah broached the subject of Ryan Aqualino. “Here you go,” Bella said, setting the receipt down in front of Noah. “Are you guys all set? Do you want a coffee to go or anything?” “No, thank you,” Noah said, signing the receipt “Do you have far to drive?” Bella asked, taking in Noah’s look. He’d left his fancy watch at home and dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, but there was no getting away from the expensive haircut and the way he carried himself, with the kind of confidence that came from getting everything you wanted,

whenever you wanted it, the kind of confidence that came only from power, the kind of power that came only from money, and lots of it. “No,” he said. “Just back to Manhattan.” “What brought you to Queens?” she asked, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “We came to see you, actually,” Noah said. I watched Bella as the confusion passed over her face. “Me?” she asked. “Why me?” “We’re lawyers,” Noah said, giving her a smile. “We’re representing Lilah Parks in her murder trial.” The blood drained from Bella’s face,

her polite smile faltering as her lips set into a thin, hard line. It was obvious from her reaction that she knew who Lilah Parks was. “I have nothing to do with that.” Her voice was clipped as she picked up the receipt Noah had just signed and shoved it into the pocket of her apron. She seemed rattled, but she didn’t tell us to get the hell out, she didn’t yell or scream or freak out. And most importantly, she hadn’t walked away. And that’s when I realized Noah was right – it was masterful what he’d done, making sure that we hadn’t accosted Bella with questions as soon as we’d walked in. He’d been polite and friendly to her while she’d been our server, we’d

enjoyed our food, and now, Bella felt at least like she had some tiny connection with us. “Are you sure?” Noah asked gently. “I’m not… I can’t talk about it,” she said softly. “I understand.” Noah took one of his business cards out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “If you change your mind, here’s how you can contact me.” Bella shook her head no, but she grabbed the card and shoved it into her apron, then scurried off behind the counter toward the kitchen. “That’s it?” I asked Noah once she was gone. “We came all the way out here for that?” “You have to give people their

space, Charlotte. Sometimes not pushing them is better.” “Oh, hell no,” I said, and before I knew what I was doing, I was out of my seat and following Bella back into the kitchen, right through the door marked Employees Only. “Charlotte!” Noah yelled behind me, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I was weaving my way back through the kitchen, through the line cooks who paid me no mind, and following Bella’s head of dark curls right into a back storage room. I closed the door behind me. Bella turned around, her eyes shimmering with tears. “What the hell are you doing back here?” she asked.

“You can’t be back here.” “Please,” I said, swallowing. “Please, you have to help us. We can… we can make sure we help you, too.” I wasn’t sure if what I was saying was true, wasn’t sure if we could help her, but it was all I had. Bella stared at me. “Is that what you think? That I need help?” She shook her head incredulously. “You come down here in your fancy clothes and your fancy car with your fancy rich boyfriend, and you think, ‘oh, look at her, she has sex for money, something must be wrong with her, she needs to be saved.’” She narrowed her eyes at me, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “I don’t need to be saved. I go to Columbia, did

you know that? I take the train there every day, and guess what? Working here isn’t going to pay for my tuition, so I do some stuff on the side.” She shrugged. “Big deal. Most of the men are gorgeous, most of them know exactly how to get me off. It’s fun. So don’t you dare feel sorry for me.” I swallowed, the heat rising high on my cheeks as I realized how judgmental I’d been. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” I faltered as I tried to regroup. “I apologize if I made you feel judged. Trust me, I’m the last person that should be judging someone when it comes to things like that.” She sighed and her face softened. “Look, I wish I could help you. I really

do. But I really don’t have anything to say. Some clients like to get rough, it’s not… it’s just part of the job.” “Those pictures didn’t look like rough sex, Bella,” I said. “It looked like something beyond just playing.” She bit her lip hard, her shell-pink lipstick staining her top teeth. “It’s not… look, I feel bad for Lilah, I really do.” “She might to go to jail, Bella,” I said. “She might end up behind bars for a very long time for something she didn’t do.” I took a step toward her. “Please, if there’s anything you can tell me about what happened, if there’s anything you know…” Her face crumpled a little, the bravado she’d had just a moment ago

almost completely gone now. “I – ” There was a knock on the storage room door, the knob rattling. Noah’s voice came booming through the room from the other side. “Open the door, Charlotte,” he commanded. “Please,” I said to Bella, pleading. “Please, whatever you can tell us.” She shook her head, and I could tell I’d lost her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I really can’t help you.” She smoothed her curls back from her face, then rubbed away a stray bit of eyeliner from under her eyes. “I need to get back to work now.” She turned and began to walk toward the door of the storage room, adjusting her apron as she reached for the doorknob.

As she did, the back of her shirt slipped up, revealing a strip of her bare back. And a tattoo of someone’s name. No, not a tattoo. A burn. A scar. A brand. I gasped in horror as I saw what the letters carved into Bella’s back spelled out. Lameuix.

N oah was livid, madder than I’d ever seen him. “That was completely out of line,”

he raged as we got into the car a few moments later. His hands tightened around the gearshift as he started the car and the engine roared to life. “She was about to talk to me, Noah,” I said, yanking on my seatbelt. “Until you came rushing in and interrupted us.” “She was not about to talk to you, Charlotte, and now she’s probably never going to talk to us, because you’ve pushed her and made her think we’re the enemy.” He gunned the engine and swerved through the streets of New York back toward Manhattan, but he was heading back toward our apartment instead of toward my school, and I had that meeting with Jason. “You’re going the wrong way,” I

said. “You need to head toward Middleton, remember?” His jaw twitched as he took a hard right, and I gripped the handle to keep myself from sliding across the seat. He stayed silent all the way to my school, even after he’d pulled up in front of the administration building that housed Jason’s office. Noah kept the engine running and I waited for him to say something. But he didn’t. “That girl had a brand on her back, Noah,” I said quietly, staring out the window. Even though it was Saturday, the campus was still busy, even if in a sleepy sort of way. “Of Lameuix’s name.”

“What?” “Yeah,” I said, turning back toward him. “I saw it.” His jaw tightened again, his eyes blazing. “You shouldn’t have followed her like that, Charlotte.” His tone was steely hard, his voice the picture of control. His eyes ran up my body and I shivered, wondering if he was thinking about how I was going to be punished for this. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He set a timer for ten minutes and then placed it on the dashboard. “Go to your meeting, Charlotte. If you are even one minute late, I will come in there and get you.” “But – “

“Your time has already started.” I sighed and got out of the car, made my way into the building, and down the hallway to Jason’s office. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Come in,” Jason called. When I opened the door, he was sitting at his desk, looking at something on his computer. “Hi,” I said carefully, shutting the door behind me. He nodded. “Hello. You want to take a seat?” “I can’t stay long.” But I sat down anyway, making sure to perch on the end of the chair so that wouldn’t get the idea that I was getting too comfortable or settling in for a long talk.

Jason opened his mouth to protest, then must have thought better of it. “Okay. Then I’ll keep this brief. The disciplinary board is going to ask me at the meeting about your relationship with Noah, about what I’ve seen.” “You can’t tell them anything,” I said, before I realized it probably wasn’t a good idea to start telling him what to do, to start off this meeting by being adversarial. “It’s patient/therapist confidentiality.” “That’s true,” Jason said, his voice steady. “But I can tell them about what happened at the coffee shop the other day.” “What?” “How Noah assaulted me.”

“What does that have to do with whether or not I had an inappropriate relationship with him?” “It shows that he feels strongly enough about you that he was willing to harm another man who was with you.” White hot anger burned me from the inside out. “Why would you do that?” I demanded. “Why would you tell them that when you know it could hurt me?” “Charlotte, this isn’t personal,” he said. “This isn’t an attack on you, or a sleight on you. It’s about following the rules.” He ran his hand through his hair, and rubbed his face. He sounded torn, but I couldn’t tell if it was sincere or not, couldn’t tell if he cared that what he was doing was going to potentially hurt

my career. “You might ruin my career,” I said. “Do you understand that?” “I’m an employee of the university, Charlotte,” he said. “I can’t lie at a disciplinary hearing.” “It’s not a disciplinary hearing. It’s just a meeting,” I said. A look of guilt flashed across Jason’s face. “What?” I demanded. “It’s not?” “Charlotte...” “So what?” I said, and my voice was raising now. “It’s one of those things where they tell me it’s just a meeting, and then when I get there, what? They bombard me with all kinds of questions, use whatever I say against me?” “I don’t know what’s going to

happen,” he said, but he looked away, and I could tell he knew exactly what was going to happen. He’d probably been to a million of these meetings. “You’re lying.” “Charlotte, what do you expect me to do?” he said. “I’m an employee of the university, I – ” “You already said that.” I shook my head. “You’re supposed to be here to help me, not to ruin my career.” “I didn’t ruin anything!” he said, and now his voice was raising too, as he lost his grip on his professionalism and began to get frustrated with me. “You’re the one who made these decisions, not me. If you’d been smart, you would have realized what you were doing.”

My eyes filled with tears, because of course he was right. I was the one who’d made those decisions, the one who was responsible for putting myself in this position. I stood up and walked toward the door, but Jason ran after me. “Charlotte,” he said. “Charlotte, come on, let’s talk about this.” “I have nothing else to say,” I said, but I wasn’t mad at him, not really. Mostly, I was made at myself. “If you end your relationship with him before the hearing, you can tell them it’s over.” “That’s not going to happen.” I opened the door and went to step into the hallway, but he stepped in front of me,

blocking my path. “You’re being irrational,” Jason said. “You’re throwing everything away for what? A man? Jesus, Charlotte, do you even realize what you’re doing?” I tried to push past him, but he grabbed at my arm. “Charlotte, please,” he said. “I just want what’s best for you. You need to think about this.” I wrenched out of his grasp and then I was running, running, running, down the hallway, pushing through a group of students huddled on the front steps and back to Noah’s car. “What happened?” he demanded when I got in. “Nothing,” I said, staring out the window as my eyes filled with tears.

“You were right about the meeting. It’s just a way for them to get information they can use against me later.” “Charlotte –” “Please,” I said softly. “Please, just take me home.”

W hen we got back to the apartment,

there was a uniformed guard standing outside the door. We’d seen him briefly on our way out to see Bella, but this time, I nodded at him and gave him a polite smile, not sure exactly what the protocol was. He didn’t nod back, leaving me to believe I’d broken some kind of cardinal rule.

“I just checked the apartment, sir,” he said. “It’s all clear.” “Thank you, Maddox,” Noah said as he slid the key into the lock. We stepped inside, and Noah shut the door behind us. “Stay here,” he said to me, and then he walked through the apartment, double checking every room, making sure the guard hadn’t missed anything. “All clear,” he said when he came back. He put his hands on my shoulders. “You okay?” “I’m just so sick of this,” I said, twisting my hands together in front of me. “I’m sick of everything being so complicated.” He sighed. “Come,” he said. He took my hand and brought me to the bedroom,

pulling me down onto the bed next to him and gathering me in his arms. “Noah,” I said into his chest. “Noah, I just want everything to be okay.” He tipped my chin up and kissed me, his tongue rubbing against mine, his stubble raking across my cheeks, his hands roaming my body. He kissed me until I was breathless, senseless, dizzy. He didn’t push it further, didn’t try to remove my clothes, and the pulsing ache that settled between my legs was excruciating. We made out for over an hour, kissing, touching, his hands exploring my body, mine sliding over his strong chest, my fingers running along the strong cords of muscle in his arms. My want built and built, until finally I

couldn’t take it anymore. I reached for his zipper. He grabbed my wrist. “No, baby,” he said gruffly. “Just you.” He unbuttoned my pants and slid his hand into my panties. He began to rub my clit, softly slowly, as his mouth returned to mine and we French kissed, his mouth claiming mine. I moaned into the kiss as I came, a shuddering orgasm that left me spent, my body weak and worn out, my limbs loose and relaxed. Then he pulled me back to him and I laid my head on his chest as he enveloped me in his arms. We laid in silence as his hands slid through the strands of my hair. After a few minutes, I drifted off to

sleep. I wasn’t sure how long I laid there in his arms, drifting in and out of sleep. But a little while later, Noah began to speak, pulling me awake. “Lameuix’s real name is Domino Bentley.” His voice cut through the room, his words striking deep in my core and causing my heart to race in my chest. I was wide awake now, but I stayed quiet, not wanting anything to deter Noah from talking. “I met him in college. We were both into the BDSM scene. But after graduation Domino began to get into things that were more intense than I was comfortable with. Beatings, whippings, games that started to border on non-

consent.” He shook his head and shifted away from me on the bed until he was lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. There were a few seconds of silence before he began talking again. “He would keep girls in his basement, chained and tied, under the guise of slave play, but there were no safe words. When I convinced the police to look into it, the girls said they were there of their own accord.” Noah’s hand found mine under the covers, his fingers intertwining with mine. “I cut ties with him, but he began to build an underground network of women, and with those women he began to attract very powerful people. Senators, celebrities, powerful

businessmen.” “And so… if they have those girls from Force, what are they doing with them? Hiring them out as sex slaves?” “I think it’s much worse than that.” I frowned. “How can it be worse than that?” Noah took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the sound of someone pounding on the front door echoed the through the room. Noah was out of bed in a flash. “Stay here,” he commanded, and then he was striding down the hallway toward the front of the apartment. A moment later, I heard raised voices. I hesitated, and then, before I

could think better of it, got out of bed and tiptoed into the hallway to listen. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cutler, I couldn’t stop him,” I heard Maddox say, which I knew must have made Noah livid. Couldn’t stop who? I wondered as fear skittered up my spine. Had Professor Worthington figured out a way to get to us? “Yeah, I can see that,” Noah said evenly. “What do you want, Rake?” “Nice to see you too, Noah,” a familiar voice said. Detective Rake! He must have been here to take our statement about the phone call Professor Worthington had made to me. “If you’re here to ask about the phone call, it’s a little late, don’t you

think?” Noah asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Worthington’s probably in Cancun by now, sipping drinks and enjoying the sun.” I walked further down the hall and peeked around the corner. Detective Rake was standing right outside the apartment, Noah’s large frame blocking the doorway and preventing the detective from coming in. Detective Rake’s eyes fell on me. “Oh, good,” he said. “You’re both here.” Noah turned to look at me. “Charlotte, go back to the bedroom. Now.” “I think she’s going to want to hear this,” Detective Rake said. “Hear what?” Noah asked. “How

your department is going to let an accused killer escape from jail and just disappear into the night?” “No,” Detective Rake said, and then he grinned and dropped the bomb. “How Jason Cartwright is dead.” “What?” I asked. My mouth went dry as I ran to the door, my hands tightening around Noah’s arm, my fingers digging into his flesh. “Dr. Cartwright is... what?” “Stabbed.” Detective Rake said with satisfaction. “Right in his office, blood everywhere.” Noah sighed and rolled his eyes. “And let me guess,” he said. “You idiots think I had something to do with it.” “Oh, no, not you,” the detective said,

and then his eyes landed on me, and they were shining with suspicion and revenge. “Charlotte.” “Charlotte what?” Noah demanded. “We think Charlotte’s the one who killed Jason Cartwright.”

End of Book Twenty Look For Book Twenty-One, Coming Soon! Want to know the minute it’s released? Click here to sign up for Hannah Ford’s exclusive newsletter!

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