Betting on Fate (12 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Will couldn’t get the image of Penelope’s acceptance out of his head. When he’d threatened her with allowing access of every Dom in Serve, he’d been testing her. He’d seen the fear, the knee-jerk denial, and finally the trust. Knowing she would do
that
for him drove him out of his mind. He couldn’t stand the thought of any of them touching her, and he sure as hell hoped Nolan had enjoyed that blowjob, because he’d never be getting between Penelope’s lips again.

“It drove me insane seeing him licking your tight pussy.” He yanked her to the edge of the bed and went to his knees, claiming her with his mouth, driven by the need to mark his territory even though he’d given permission in the first place. “If you’d come before I gave you permission, I would have punished you. Your orgasms are mine, and
mine alone
. Do you understand?” He didn’t wait for a response, sucking her clit into his mouth so hard her piercing clinked against his teeth, and then tonguing her pussy, barely aware of her breathless shrieks because her hands were in his hair, her legs parting even more to give him better access. He moved back to her clit and her thighs tightened around his face, clenching him tightly as she came.

He wasn’t done. Hell, he wasn’t even
close
to done.

“Who do you belong to?” He stood, lifted her hips, and shoved into her. “Tell me, Penelope.
Now
.”

“You.” She reached for his hips, drawing him deeper even as her breasts bounced with each thrust.

“Say my name.” He needed to hear it on her lips, needed the confirmation, needed something to calm the frenzy that had blown through his control as if it didn’t exist.

“
You
.” She cried out, her back arching off the mattress. “I belong to you, Will.”

It wasn’t enough. He pushed her farther onto the bed, climbing onto it without withdrawing from her. He yanked off the blindfold and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as he rocked against her, his mouth on her neck, sucking, marking her as his and his alone. She clung to him, both arms and legs wrapped around him, holding him damn near as tightly as he held her.

And still the words came. “No one else, pet. Never again.” His orgasm loomed closer, but he fought it off, needing for this never to end. “I am the last goddamn man who will be inside you, the last mouth that will taste that sweet pussy, and the only hands that will slide up your skirt. Do you fucking understand me?”

But she was too far gone to answer, her head thrown back, her pussy tightening around him until he couldn’t resist any longer. He buried his face in her neck as he came, driving into her, suddenly wishing there wasn’t a goddamn condom between them so he could fill her in every way possible.

Afterward, they lay there a long time, her hands stroking circular patterns on his back, their breathing nearly in time with one another. Sanity returned in waves, leaving Will reeling. He rolled onto his side and tucked her against him, unable to stand the thought of distance even as he thought back over what he’d said, what he’d thought.

She draped her leg over his hip and pressed a kiss to his chest. “I think you just ruined me for any other man.”

His heart skipped a beat even as his stomach fell. He twined one of her curls around his finger, searching for calm and coming up short. “Good.”

But was it? He’d been little better than an animal rutting and marking its territory. The comparison left him cold. There had been no room for control, for anything other than desperate need. He’d said he intended to be the last man to touch her, and he couldn’t take it back. The conviction settled deep within him, as certain as he knew the sun chased the moon across the sky.

Will closed his eyes. He wanted Penelope—wanted her permanently. But what would a life with her be like? A single week and he was nearly a stranger in his own skin, doing things he never thought he’d do. Would he even recognize himself a month from now? A year? Or would he wake up one day, hating the person he’d become, and do anything to get out of the trap he’d built around himself?

Was that what his mother had done?

He sat up, dislodging Penelope, and stared blindly at the wall. This realization was something he never wanted. His mother had been a selfish woman who put herself before her family and walked away from her children as if they were as disposable as old pairs of shoes. He did
not
want to sympathize with her, or understand her motivations, even in part.

And yet… Now he had to wonder.

“Will?”

He turned to look at Penelope where she lay on the bed, watching him with concern. She
should
be concerned. He was totally and completely out of control, and he wasn’t sure he had what was required to get things back where they needed to be—not while they were together.

He took a breath and made a conscious effort to push the worry away. It retreated reluctantly, hovering at the edges of his mind, ready to pounce the second he let down his guard. He’d have to deal with this—and soon—but tonight would solve nothing.

So he lay back down and smoothed her hair away from her face. “I’m fine.”

She obviously didn’t believe him, but she nodded. “Okay.”

He pulled her back into his arms, but his mind refused to settle the way it normally did when he held her. Instead, it continued to spin, offering him scenario after scenario, trying to find a way to keep his control
and
Penelope, too.

By the time they made it back to his apartment and he closed his eyes, he still hadn’t come up with a solution.

…

Penelope’s search for a new receptionist didn’t go well. Since she didn’t have a replacement set up via referral, she had to post the job opening to the various public forums. The crop that had shown up today to interview had been seriously lacking. Worse, this process was taking away from her ability to put her feelers out and start laying the groundwork to snag another account. It was a mess no matter which way she looked at it.

All she wanted was a glass of wine and someone to vent her frustrations to.

She caught herself typing Will’s number before she realized it. They hadn’t put a label on their relationship up to this point, but he’d been pretty clear last night that he didn’t intend to let her get away. She smiled, just a little. Even knowing he was the majority of the reason she’d been so distracted at work, she couldn’t deny how good he made her feel.

She finished dialing and pushed call before she could talk herself out of it. It went to voicemail, which was strange, but she mentally shrugged and left a message. “I’ve had a hellish day, sugar.” She stepped around two people arguing on the sidewalk. “I hope you’re bringing the wine to dinner, because I’m definitely in need of a glass—or three.” There was nothing else to say, so she fought back the urge to keep babbling and ended the call. He was most likely in a meeting or something.

She got to work on her emails, which she’d been neglecting all day. Unsurprisingly, there was no word about the meeting yesterday. She sighed. They weren’t even going to give her the courtesy of telling her that she didn’t get the job. Rude people were just part of the game—and they didn’t stop being rude when they contracted her, either. She’d gotten very good at managing a great variety of personality types without letting any of them get under her skin.

Until now.

She rubbed the back of her neck. A quick glance at the clock reminded her that most of the day was gone and she still hadn’t heard from Will. Combined with the way their last interaction had gone… There was something wrong. She carefully set her phone in her purse, reminding herself that she couldn’t expect to have him on call every second of every day. It didn’t matter that something had obviously been bothering him last night after the scene. They’d just talk about it like they had everything else up to this point. Simple.

But he had to pick up the phone first.

He’s most likely just busy
. It didn’t matter how many times she thought it, it still didn’t comfort her, which was unbearably pathetic. Since when did her happiness revolve around whether a man got a hold of her or not? All she’d ever needed was Carson & Associates.
That
was what fulfilled her, and knowing she was taking the business in the right direction was what let her sleep at night.

Nothing made sense anymore.

She went home and showered, not sure if he’d reconsidered the invitation to his family dinner that night. It was yet another big step in a very short time, and frankly, it made her a little nervous. She hadn’t even had a chance to figure out how to balance Will with her work, and now they were throwing his family into the mix as well? It was only going to further complicate things. Maybe that was what had him worried. She certainly wouldn’t want him meeting her father so soon.

Penelope paused in the middle of drying her hair and tried to picture how
that
dinner would go. Would Dad be impressed with everything Will had accomplished in less than thirty years? Or would he see a distraction, one that was guaranteed to take her off her A-game and negatively affect Carson & Associates? She couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t a distraction, either. He most definitely was.

After things had fallen out the way they did with her parents, Dad had channeled all his extra time and effort into the company, pushing it into something that, if not a household name, could hold its own against the big dogs. He’d ruthlessly cut everything out of his life that could be considered a distraction, and she’d heard him mutter countless times how her mother had been nothing but a beautiful distraction.

She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold despite the steam drifting through the air in her bathroom. What if her father hated Will? She should have gone back into see John at the Falcon Bar and not pulled her punches. Following up with a potential client trying to go in a different direction was something she’d done regularly, and it had netted her success almost half the time. It was the first in a long line of mistakes she’d made in the last week, and it didn’t look like she’d be finding her feet anytime soon.

Her phone rang before she could follow that rational any further, and her stomach leaped when she saw it was the very man she’d been thinking so hard about. Was he calling to cancel? She tried to ignore the disappointment that rose and answered, “Penelope Carson.”

“I’m walking out my front door and catching a cab. I’ll be at your apartment in twenty minutes.”

She blinked. “Okay.”

“My family can be…tedious. So I only intend to stay there the minimum time required—dinner and a single drink afterward. Then you’ll make an excuse about a headache and we’ll leave.”

God, he sounded like he was planning a battle strategy instead of sharing a meal with his own flesh and blood. Worse than that, his tone was so distant, she could almost feel the ice creeping through the line, chilling her worse than her earlier worries had. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, as long as you remember your headache after dinner. I’ll see you shortly.”

She set down her phone and frowned at it. It was as if they’d gone a full week back in time and Will was once again behind the Ice King barrier that she’d been sure was gone. It was different when they scened together. She didn’t mind the mask as much then, because it was so much fun poking at him until it cracked. But now, when they were on their way to his family? It sat ill with her. There was no time to figure it out now, though. Even if he was planning on ending things, their agreement went on until tomorrow, so she was obligated to obey his orders.

Or that was what she told herself as she hurried to twist her hair back and put on makeup. She was in the process of zipping up her dress when the buzzer rang. She let loose a few choice curses, grabbed her purse, slipped on her shoes, and hurried down to the street.

Will faced away from her, his hands laced loosely behind his back. He still wore his preferred slacks and button up shirt, and it struck her that the only time she’d seen him any other way was when he was naked. The man didn’t seem to know how to lounge, and today obviously wouldn’t be the day he learned.

He glanced over his shoulder and took her in with one cool look. She stopped short. Something was definitely wrong. He kept a careful distance between them as if she carried the plague. It was official—he was most definitely
not
fine.

While she was still debating how to respond, or if she should even address it at all, he crossed the space between them in two strides and jerked her into his arms with enough force that she had to catch herself against his chest. He took her mouth viciously, lashing her with his tongue, his teeth raking her lip, punishing her for some mystery offense. When he took a step back, her knees buckled, but he caught her with a cursory hand on her elbow and guided her to a cab.

He still hadn’t said a word.

Chapter Sixteen

The entire ride to his father’s home, Will cursed himself for his lack of control. It was exactly as he’d feared. He’d been determined to put some distance between himself and Penelope today, proving that he didn’t need to be in near-constant contact with her. But every hour that passed was agony, and every time his phone rang, he couldn’t stop his disappointment when it wasn’t her. Just now, when picking her up, he couldn’t manage to be in her presence for more than thirty seconds before touching her.

Being in such a cramped space for the twenty minute drive only made things worse. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and tuck her under his arm, to banish the uncertain look off her face. But right now, he needed his control back more than he needed to comfort her. More than that, he needed
himself
back. If he couldn’t manage that, they were through, no matter how much he wanted it to be otherwise.

So he didn’t touch her again during the ride, or when they climbed from the cab and headed up the brick walkway leading to the house he’d grown up in. Not for the first time, he wished his father had sold the damn thing instead of moving Uncle Rodger in and remodeling it. It didn’t matter if the rooms were different now or the kitchen almost unrecognizable. Will couldn’t help but see phantoms of his mother everywhere he turned.

And he hated himself for his weakness.

It was worse with Penelope at his side, a silent reminder of how everything could go sideways in the blink of an eye. She wasn’t doing anything except standing there, waiting for him to open the door and lead the way inside, but it was more than enough to undo him. She turned to him, opening her mouth to say… It didn’t matter what. He couldn’t talk about the ugly mix of emotions inside him—not now and perhaps not ever.

So he opened the door and called out a greeting that was answered by a handful of voices deeper inside. “This way.”

The clip of her heels on the wood floor followed him, the only sound she made. He knew he was being cold, knew it was confusing her, but he couldn’t stop. If he couldn’t retain the part of himself he most desperately needed when he was around her… The outcome was unthinkable.

In the kitchen, he found that the rest of his family had beaten them here. Sara rushed around the kitchen, pulling something that smelled delicious out of the oven, stirring a pot on the stove, and generally being a blonde, cooking whirlwind. She actually missed a step when Penelope stopped in the doorway, and her gaze flew to Will. He braced himself for the interrogation, but she spun on her heel and started sawing through the loaf of bread with significantly more force than necessary.

Knowing he wouldn’t escape when she finally decided to corner him, Will turned to the four people at the table—all wisely keeping away from Sara with her huge knife. His father looked like he’d aged another decade in the few months it had been since Will saw him, but there were laugh lines around his mouth, so maybe it wasn’t all bad news. With his longish sandy blond hair and weather worn face, Uncle Rodger looked more like a construction worker than the man who fixed other men’s problems, but he was the best in the city. And he was watching Sara with worry in his eyes. Will made a mental note to do some interrogating of his own—anything to get his mind off the woman standing slightly behind him.

Garrett looked up first, his face identical to Will’s—except for his hair, which he wore longer like their uncle—and the surprise that widened his eyes made Will wish he hadn’t invited Penelope. He could trust his father and uncle not to make things unbearable—at least until they had him alone—but his siblings had no such restrictions. The woman his twin currently had his arm around was Ridley, and their little slice of happiness brightened the room, which only served to shine a light on how miserable the rest of them were.

Garrett stood, keeping a hand on Ridley’s shoulder. “Penelope, was it?”

She laughed, the sound a little strained, and moved past Will to shake his twin’s hand. “Honestly, I’m surprised you remember. I think we only spoke for two minutes.”

“It was a memorable occasion.” He shot a glance at his fiancé, who blushed a fierce crimson.

Will realized he was being unbearably rude. He should have introduced Penelope the second they walked through the door. But it was too late now, because she moved around the room, smiling at his father and shaking his hand, and then repeating the introduction with his uncle. She stopped on the other side of the kitchen island, but Sara didn’t seem inclined to make it easy on her.

That
finally got Will moving. He crossed to stand next to her. “Sara, this is Penelope.”

“Nice to meet you.” His sister still didn’t turn around, but the bread had taken on a smashed, misshapen look. “Why don’t you sit down? Dinner will be done in just a second.”

He moved to the massive table and held the chair out for Penelope and then took the seat next to her. It took a grand total of five seconds for his father to turn his attention onto Will. “It’s been awhile, son.”

It was a miracle the man managed to convey so much in four small words. But he refused to feel any guilt for staying away. If his father wanted to see him, he shouldn’t have threatened to set Will up with the neighbor girl. “I’ve been busy.”

“So have your sister and brother, but they manage to come around for a meal on a semi-regular basis.”

Garrett must have seen the writing on the wall because he cut in, “So, Penelope, what is it you do? I was slightly distracted when we met.” He ignored the elbow Ridley drove into his stomach and smiled. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that there had been something sexual going on between the two when the introductions were made all those months ago.

“I’m a business consultant with Carson & Associates.”

The urge rose to fill in the rest of the information—that she owned the company and that it had made leaps and bounds since her father retired and she took over. How she was one of the best in the business, and even before he’d shared her bed, he’d acknowledged that—at least to himself. Will sat back, clenching his jaw to keep the words in.

“A competitor to my twin, then.” Garrett grinned. “I hope you give him hell.”

“Sugar, you have no idea.” She shot him a look that promised hell later on, and he almost welcomed it.

He tried to shake off the melancholy mood dragging him down, but the way the conversation continued to flow, with Penelope fitting into the family dynamic like a long lost piece of the puzzle, only made it worse. Because it was only becoming more and more clear as time went on that the problem didn’t originate with her. Hell, the woman was as close to perfection as humanly possible.

No, the problem was
him
.

…

Penelope hadn’t been sure what to expect from Will’s family, but she was surprised to find she liked them. Oh, the sister had a set of claws and Garrett’s fiancé had been a little curt initially—understandably so, considering the only other time they’d met, Penelope had hit on Garrett—but overall, dinner had gone amazingly well.

As long as she ignored the fact that there was something seriously wrong with Will. He barely spoke, never touched her, and seemed to wish he were anywhere in the world but at this table. It couldn’t be more obvious that he regretted inviting her in the first place, but she couldn’t begin to guess why.

When dinner was cleaned up and drinks were served, the little sister turned that sharp blue gaze—so similar to her brothers’—on Penelope. She barely bad time to brace for trouble when the question came. “So, what happens if you end up married? Are you going to combine companies?”

She choked on her wine. Marriage? Combining companies?

Their father sounded quietly furious. “Sara Marie Reaver, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you today, but that was bullshit and you know it. Apologize.”

“It was a perfectly legitimate question,” said Sara. “If it’s serious enough to bring her to dinner—something Will has never done—then it’s
serious
.”

His sister obviously shared Will’s contrary nature. Penelope glanced around the room, taking in the tensions that showed no sign of dissipating anytime soon.
Nothing good would come of staying. Penelope pushed to her feet and coughed again. “Will, I have a headache.”

He looked pathetically grateful for the escape. “As delightful as this has been, we’re leaving.” He nodded at his uncle and then strode to the door, leaving her to follow like a well-trained pet. She gritted her teeth, trailing after only because the only other option was staying there with the rest of the Reavers.

She picked up her pace as Will hit the street and turned right. There weren’t any cabs in sight, and since they were in the suburbs, they weren’t likely to find one for miles. But he obviously hadn’t thought about that when he’d walked out the door, because he was too busy throwing a temper tantrum. It was a huge lapse for a Dom. She stopped walking. “I’ll never dissolve Carson & Associates, Will.”

“No one’s asking you to.” He didn’t stop walking, but his quiet voice carried in the silence of the night.

Weren’t they? Because Sara’s question, inappropriate as it was, had shone a light on something lurking in the back of Penelope’s mind ever since she realized she was in danger of losing her heart to this man. What kind of future could they have as competitors? The logical solution was exactly what his sister suggested.

It made her sick to even think about.

She took two quick steps and put herself in his path. “Enough, Will. We can’t talk about this rationally until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong.” He stepped off the sidewalk and went around her, never breaking his stride.

“What happened to there being honesty between us? Because you’re lying through your teeth right now.” His refusal to talk only spiked her fear higher. She should have pushed him last night, the second she knew something was off, instead of letting him stew all day. She’d been under the impression that if something was truly wrong, he’d come to her and they’d talk it out.

Apparently she’d been wrong.

He finally stopped charging ahead and actually looked at her. “I was demanding honesty of
you
.”

What?
She rocked back on her heels. “That’s crap and you know it.”

“It’s the truth.”

And now he was throwing her own words back at her. How quickly they’d fallen from that near-perfect communication of the last few days. He’d demanded she bare her soul time and time again, and she’d done it. Now, he had something that needed to be addressed and suddenly he couldn’t return the favor? Inexcusable. “No, it’s not. It’s called cowardice, which is a word I never thought would be applied to you.”

“It’s not cowardly to keep parts of myself private.”

“It is when you’re demanding total and complete transparency from the person you’re dating.”

His went still, and for a second she was sure she saw naked longing on his face. But the expression was gone in an instant, replaced by his Ice King mask. His brows rose, and his mouth went tight. She had half a second to realize what was coming before he cut her off at the knees. “We’re not dating, Penelope.”

She saw what he was doing, plain as day, because it was exactly what she was fighting
not
to do. Retreat. Say something unforgivable to save herself from having to make the hard decisions that a relationship with him might mean. “I’m scared, too. We’d have to be stupid not to be.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She gritted her teeth. “Fine. We’re not dating. So what do you call fucking me and growling that you’ll be the last man who touches me?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she crossed her arms over her chest, determined to break through his barriers. “Surely you weren’t suggesting I join a nunnery when you’d decided to wash your hands of me?”

Not even a flicker. “Don’t be dense.”

“I’m not the one being dense in this conversation. You can’t have it both ways, Will.” Still there was no expression on his face, as if they were discussing whether to have coffee or tea. She wanted to smash through that mask, to make his heart feel like hers—as if it were being crushed into a million pieces. “Either we’re just fucking, or you have to actually tell the truth and admit that you feel something for me beyond lust.”
Please admit that you feel something beyond lust, that I wasn’t the only one falling head over heels in this thing.

Again, that hesitation, the flicker of something more, that was immediately quashed. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t control your emotions. That burden falls on you and you alone.”

Just like that, it all clicked into place. The
real
thing he was scared of. It wasn’t the uncertainty the future brought. It was something else entirely. “That’s not the truth, either, is it? You lost your precious control and that has you terrified.” She stepped closer, putting her hand on his forearm. “You don’t have to be scared, Will. I mean, it’s terrifying falling—”

He laughed, the sound cutting through the night air like a blade. “In love? Please tell me you weren’t going to suggest that
I
would fall in love with
you
.”

That’s exactly what she was suggesting and he damn well knew it. “Aren’t you?”

Another laugh. “Don’t make this more than what it was—seven days of good sex and power games. Seven days that happen to be at their end tonight.”

He was really going to do it. He was ending things.

Penelope took a careful step back even though all she wanted was to feel his arms around her, shielding her from this pain. The thought almost made her laugh. The thing she wanted most to shield herself from was
Will
. She took another step back, her heart crying out with the loss. “I suppose I should thank you.”