Cunning (Infidelity #2) (10 page)

“What does that mean?”

“It means, princess, I will ground your ass here or in my apartment, or anywhere I choose, if I need to. Don’t make me need to. I know you’re not a child.” He sat up and raked my body with the tip of his finger, from my collarbone to my core, stopping short of where he’d been before. “You’re a sexy-as-hell woman, and that alone makes the idea of having you tied up in my bed awaiting my return all the more appealing.” His lips quirked upward, and the menacing gaze that swirled with navy shimmered in his eyes. “Go ahead… do something like you did last night, and we’ll see how fast your freedoms disappear.”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure what to say. It was the new internal battle that his words and actions waged within me. Alex didn’t like it, but Charli’s tummy was doing flip-flops with the memory of the satin binding in Del Mar.

He brushed a finger between my folds and his grin blossomed to a full smile. “Maybe I’ll need to think of a different punishment. It seems as though you like the sound of that one too much.”

I started to sit up. “This is bullshit. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

Nox seized my shoulders and pushed me back to the mattress. “You’re wrong. It’s exactly what you signed up for. And you got me. That fairytale you spoke about—I want that for you. I want you to get your law degree. Just never forget, fairytales don’t really exist, and the world’s not black and white. One person’s good is another person’s bad. I can make the next year of your life as pleasant or as miserable as I want. As I’ve mentioned, my tastes are unique, and to me, tears of pain taste as sweet as tears of joy. You signed the agreement, and it wasn’t to star as Cinderella. I’m about as far from Prince Charming as you’re going to find.”

My mouth dried as a cold chill settled over the room. This wasn’t the man I’d met in Del Mar.

“I’m also a selfish bastard. I don’t share well. Never have. You’re going to learn to behave, and in public, you’ll be my queen—my princess. In private, you’re mine, which means whatever I want it to mean. I’m warning you: I’m not a good person, but I’m the only
bad
I want near you. Don’t mention the security again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Nox.”

He sat up. “You have my number. Use it, but not frivolously during the day. I have work, but if you’re unsure if I’ll approve of something, call me. Keep in mind that my calls are all monitored. Don’t do anything stupid like sexting. My security will only see you naked if I want them to see you.”

What the hell?

He picked up his phone. “Work is where I need to be. We’re going to try our plans for last night again tonight. Do you think you can manage to follow my directions or would you prefer my belt?”

“Are those my only two options?” I asked with a sultry twang.

Nox stood, in all his incredible naked sexiness. “Tonight, seven o’clock, Mobar—
take-two
.”

“Yes, sir,
Mr. Demetri
.”

“Watch it.” He tilted his head toward my side of the bed. “Your phone’s plugged in. I turned off the sound again. The vibrating woke me.”

Nox wiggled his brows. “That reminds me of something, but we’ll discuss it tonight. I’m taking a shower. Isaac will be here soon.”

I wasn’t exactly sure how this worked. “Do you want company?”

He walked toward me with his lips pursed together. Taking my hand, he helped me stand. His gaze burned as he slowly spun me around. “Do you still want me? After all of that?”

I did. I shouldn’t, but I did.

“Yes, Nox,” I said the words he’d told me to say.

He kissed my neck sending chills over my heated skin. The erection that had faded twitched against my hip.

“If I touched you, would I find you’re still wet? Would your pussy be eager for me?”

I nodded.

“Words, Charli.”

“Yes, Nox.”

His large hands trailed down my arms, a whisper of a touch. His gruff tone, now gone, was replaced by velvet words. “What do you want?”

“You.”

“Who owns you?”

I closed my eyes. “You do.”

“Who is the only one who can bring you pleasure?”

My head became heavy on my spine and fell backward. “You.”

“And what do you want? Be specific.”

Nox was killing me. His warm breath on my skin, ghostly touch, and raspy tone had me piqued, twisted, and ready to combust.

“Your cock,” I whispered. I sounded like the whore he said I was. The word repulsed me, but what he was doing was turning me on more than I cared to admit.

Nox’s breath disappeared. His warmth was gone, and the coolness that comes from being alone settled around me.

“No.” His voice came from the other side of the room.

My eyes popped open. “What?”

“Was that a question, Charli, or did you not hear me?”

“I-I…”

What the hell?

He stepped closer, pulling my eyes to his. “My year, my rules. I said
no
. I’ll decide when you deserve my cock and when you don’t. Tonight, if you’re a good girl and do as you’ve been told, by the time we get back to this suite, you won’t whisper your request. You’ll scream it.”

I swallowed, but my mouth was again dry.

“In the meantime,” Nox continued, “do not take that responsibility into your own hands. You’re mine—all of you. The only one pleasuring that pussy for the next year is me.”

Dick!

His game made me dizzy. His words dripped with ice while the menacing gleam in his eyes sent heat through my body, causing synapses to spark and crackle along the way. It was like power lines I’d seen on the news that exploded in the dead of winter. The heat running through the wires combined with the frigid temperatures made a lethal combination.

“Oh,” he added, “if you’re looking for your vibrator, well, that’s now in my possession. I’m sure I can come up with some inventive ideas for its use.” With that he turned and walked toward the bathroom.

Asshole!

My body trembled with the combination of rage and unmet need. The physical chill made my fingers cold. I reached for the robe, the one I’d worn earlier. As I did, I saw my phone. Under it was a note and something under the note. I lifted the page to reveal ten hundred-dollar bills—fanned out for effect.

Charli~

Go shopping. Buy what I’d like, what I’d approve of. To the world you’re my queen. Only we know what happens behind closed doors.

Wrapping myself in the robe, I fought the rising bile burning my throat. Grabbing my phone, I stormed out of the bedroom. I may have to live with him, but it didn’t have to be in the same room.

In the living room of the suite, I found the Keurig and made a cup of coffee. The thought of making two was easily dismissed. I was Nox’s whore, not his damn maid or cook.

With the robe around my body and the cup in my hands, I stood at the massive window and watched as sunlight and people brought the park back to life. When had I been on those paths with Patrick? It didn’t seem possible that it had only been a few days ago. How had everything gone so terribly wrong?

I refused to cry. I couldn’t let him see that. Instead, I settled on a sofa and picked up my phone. When I pushed the button, multiple text messages as well as Facebook notifications popped onto the screen.

Perhaps it was time to change my relationship status. However, I didn’t think Facebook had
expensive prostitute
as an option.

Two of the text messages were from a number without a name. My stomach sank. Should I put Bryce’s name in my phone? If I did, at least I’d know not to answer his calls. Maybe I should block the number. As I debated, I saw that the last text message I received was at nearly three in the morning. It was from Chelsea. Three o’clock in New York would’ve been midnight in California.

I sighed. I hadn’t spoken or texted her since I signed the agreement. We rarely went a day, much less three, without talking. I was afraid to call. Afraid I’d blurt out the truth. Afraid of what she’d think, afraid to admit both how ashamed I felt and how disappointed I was in Nox.

Fighting the tears, I swiped my screen.

Chelsea: “ALEX, I HAVEN’T HEARD FROM YOU IN A FEW DAYS. THE MOVERS ARE COMING TOMORROW. I’M READY. I NEED TO TALK TO YOU. CALL ME.”

BLOCKED NUMBER: “IT’S DONE.”

Burner phone: “YOU TOOK CARE OF HER?”

Blocked number: “I FOLLOWED YOUR DIRECTIONS.”

Burner phone: “GOOD. I’LL BE IN TOUCH.”

Blocked number: “THANK YOU, SIR.”

I PULLED MY
gaze away from my friend and looked toward my daughter running and laughing in the plush green grass with her nanny, Jane. Sipping my sangria, I contemplated calling down and reminding them that a refined Southern lady didn’t chase little boys, even if she was only three, almost four years old. And then I remembered Russell’s insistence upon allowing Alexandria to experience childhood.

Of course she’d experience childhood. Everyone did.

It didn’t matter; I couldn’t make him happy.

The constant tension, the lies, the masks—it all mocked me, reminding me of my duty, my birthright, and my slow death. Turning back to Suzy, I concentrated on my friend’s words and tried not to think about how sweaty or dirty Alexandria would become. It was Jane’s doing. She’d be the one to give her a bath.

I shook my head. It was too hot to run. It was simply too hot.

The humid Savannah air filled my lungs, weighing me down, suffocating me. I wasn’t even thirty and I was old, not just physically, not just mentally, but socially and spiritually. Nothing within me held the light and colors of youth. I was the shell of their creation and yet it was all I knew, all I’d ever known.

Who am I to assume it could be any better?

I blinked my eyes as sun filtered through the pagoda and listened to my best friend. Sometimes the suffering of others helped me reevaluate my own. I still had time to save my marriage; hers was beyond repair. I wanted to save mine, not only because of the fallout Suzanna was experiencing, but also because it was my duty, my job, and I couldn’t face my father if I failed. It was plain and simple—and sad—but even as an adult, I wanted him to be proud. I wanted him to be content with his only heir. I couldn’t help that I wasn’t a male, but I could do my best in my non-existent brother’s stead.

“Are you sure Jane won’t let them get too close to the lake?” Suzanna asked. “I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always been wary of it.”

This time, we both looked out over the stone patio to the lawn below. It was easily another hundred yards to the lake from where the children ran circles around Alexandria’s nanny.

I took another sip of my sangria, thankful I wasn’t the one running after the children. Russell might insist on childish activities, but I didn’t want to be the one participating. I would just as soon get my exercise running on the treadmill or swimming. “We used to swim in it when we were their age.” The memory brought a smile to both of our faces.

“I don’t know why. I mean the pool is so much nicer.”

“Honey,” I said, drawing out the endearment with just the right amount of Southern drawl, “how are you doing?” My second glass of sangria gave me the courage to attack head-on the subject we’d avoided thus far.

Suzanna shrugged. “At least I’m sitting here at Montague Manor with my best friend. The whole world hasn’t ostracized me.”

“No one is ostracizing you. It’s not your fault. Besides, I never liked Marcel anyway.”

“I know you’re just saying that.” She looked down and then up. “No one really knew him. But still, I’m the one who has to explain to Bryce that his father isn’t coming home. Every night I have to…” Her words faded away as she straightened her neck and pressed her lips together.

It didn’t matter how many times I held her hand and told her that she wasn’t the talk of every social gathering or that the women she considered friends weren’t saying terrible things about her behind her back, she knew I was lying. She knew the women we considered friends and have for most of our lives were like rabid beasts when it came to scandal.