I’VE SENT THE men home, and all I have to do now is wait. She isn’t asleep. I check my watch. It’s two in the morning. She’s moved around the room a few times, even ventured out into the hall. I’ve left a hall light on so she can see, but not enough that she can see me.
I’m sitting on the couch in the corner of the room, shrouded in darkness, and like anything, give a man enough rope, and he’ll hang himself. Evie doesn’t disappoint as she tiptoes down the hall. She pauses in the main room and stays frozen for a few minutes. It’s impressive how she molds herself into the darkness. Closing my eyes, my hearing amplifies, and her shallow, harsh breaths tell me where she is.
I want to stand up and ask her what she’s doing. But the chase is more alluring. The elevator doors slide open, and I open my eyes as light floods the hallway. Evie steps in, her finger pressing the buttons repeatedly like she might be able to get the door closed faster than it’s operating.
I gather my suit jacket off the couch and arm myself as I make my way to the elevator. I don’t have to press anything; it automatically comes back up. When the doors open, I step into the empty metal box.
The lobby downstairs is empty. She’s moving faster than I anticipated. Leaving the building, I look left and right through the sheets of rain that fall with one purpose only—to drench anyone stupid enough to step into it.
Movement across from the building has me pausing. She has no jacket, and the light shirt she’s wearing clings to her body. She runs and ducks from one shop awning to the next. Stepping out into the rain, there isn’t much I can do to fend it off. I stay on the opposite side of the road and watch her race from one awning to another.
She’s soaked within minutes, and she’s completely oblivious that she’s being watched. She isn’t street smart. The idea that she thinks she got away that easily is flabbergasting.
She keeps to the same pace. A couple who moves past her, huddled under an umbrella, has me pausing. Will she ask them for help?
I might have to kill them both. They don’t slow down or even notice Evie. How could they not notice her? Even soaking wet, she’s still a rare beauty. The moment they pass her, she shoots out from under the awning and starts running, changing her earlier movements.
I don’t jog but walk faster. The moment she turns a corner, I start to run, and when she’s back in my line of sight, I slow back down. We’ve cleared a few blocks when she finally stops. She looks over her shoulder, but I’m already in the shadows. Hope widens her eyes, and she’s running across the street.
There is no way she saw me, yet she’s nearly upon me. The moment she steps closer, I’ll grab her and end this escapade of hers. She moves past me and pulls open the door of a phone booth. She has to kick it a few times to get it closed behind her. I know she has no money. She doesn’t pick up the receiver, but she stares at it long enough that I’m ready to step out of the shadows. She picks up the phone directory and flicks through it. Once she finds what she’s looking for, she tears a page out and folds it several times before stuffing it into her back pocket.
I brush more rain off my face as she puts the phone book back and stares at the phone. She finally reaches out and lifts the receiver. She doesn’t touch the keypad but leans her head against the glass. Her shoulders shake.
She jerks upright and slams the receiver down. The distress on her face is evident as she turns and leaves the phone booth and starts to walk into the rain. Her hand keeps patting her jeans pocket as if she’s trying to make sure the piece of paper is still there. She stops at the end of the road, ready to cross, but I’ve had enough.
I step up beside her.
Her shoulders stiffen before her gaze travels up to my face. Any color that had tainted her cheeks vanishes. Two guys are ready to cross the street, and before she can do anything, I pull Evie to the side and press her against a shop front.
“Don’t draw attention, or I’ll kill them,” I whisper and press closer to her body. She smells of rain and something sweet. My lips linger close to her ear, her body is pressed against mine, and it feels fucking good to have her this close.
She’s shaking under me, and when I press a kiss just below her earlobe, she freezes. The men have moved past. I know I can let her go, but I don’t. I press another kiss to her jawline, and she pulls away from me, ending my kisses. I have no fucking idea why I’m doing this.
I step away and grip her hand. She doesn’t fight me as we walk in the downpour back to the penthouse. The moment we enter the lobby, I see our reflection in the elevator doors. We are both soaked. Evie’s gaze is on me, and I see the fear take over before she tries to pull away from my hand. The doors open, and the ding has her short-lived rebellion stopping. I pull her in and don’t release her hand.
She doesn’t start to plead or explain herself, and I don’t ask. The more I think about what could have happened to her being on the streets alone, the angrier I become at her.
I release her hand, not wanting to crush her delicate fingers. The moment we reach the penthouse, she’s out of the elevator like a bull let loose from a pen.
“Come back now, Evie!” My warning has her stalling. I remove my suit jacket, and it plops loudly on the ground beside me.
She spins and faces me; her chest rises and falls rapidly.
“Give me the paper.”
Her lips drag down, and she doesn’t move for a moment. She raises her chin, and I know she’s going to lie. I pull off my tie and let it fall to the floor.
“I don’t have anything.”
Her lies have the darkness that is always there rising in me. I open my shirt one button at a time. She’s trying to keep her gaze on my face, but her eyes drift lower with each button I open.
“It’s sad, really.” I peel off the shirt and watch color enter her cheeks. “You forget who I am.”
The shirt hits the ground, and I kick off my shoes. She doesn’t answer, but her lip trembles slightly as I walk toward her.
“Take off your clothes, Evie.”
She blinks like the words are hard to process. “You aren’t allowed to touch me.” She speaks with her head high, like that will remind me who she is. She needs a reminder of who I am.
I grip the blouse on both sides and tear it open. She screams and tries to pull the material back together, but it’s tattered.
“I said take your clothes off.”
Real fear enters her blue eyes, and she tugs off the damaged shirt with trembling fingers. Once it hits the floor, she looks up at me but doesn’t touch her trousers.
Her defiance isn’t something I admire right now. She screams as I pick her up and carry her down the hallway.
She doesn’t strike me or demand I put her down. She’s like a rag doll across my shoulder as I open my bedroom door and throw her onto the bed. She’s moving, scrambling away from me. As she turns, I grab her by the waist and drag her body back to mine.
Her heart beats wildly in her chest, her breathing erratic. I place one arm across her chest to keep her still and use the other to open her trousers. She thrashes, and when I tighten my arm across her chest, she stops.
I raise my arm to release her and drag her trousers down her legs. She starts to crawl off the bed.
Grabbing her ankles, I drag her back and climb further onto the bed.
“No! Please. I’m sorry.” Her pleading should make me pause, but she’s disobeyed me too many times.
My hand comes down heavily on her perfect ass, cutting off her pleas. She’s frozen as I bring my hand down again; her soft, plump flesh turns red under the assault of my hand. I don’t stop but strike her a few more times until she’s shaking under me. Her cries have me completely stopping. My handprints on her ass have me dipping my head and pressing a kiss to her skin.
“You need to understand that I have all the power here, printsessa. And when I ask a question, I expect an answer.”
She continues to cry, and I kiss the red skin.
“What were you doing in the phone booth?” I ask and spin her around. Her eyes are red and swollen from her tears. But her hard nipples press against the flimsy material of her bra.
Anger tightens her lips together, and I admire her. She’s protecting someone—someone who is very dear to her. Is it a friend like she had said? Male?
That thought has my gaze roaming down her flat stomach to the black lacy material that covers her pussy.
“Are you going to answer me?” I ask as I slip my fingers under the dark material.
Her gasp has me looking back at her face, and she shifts.
“I’d advise you not to move, or I’ll spank you again.”
She’s rooted to the spot, and I let my finger slide over her swollen bud. She gasps again at the contact, her gaze pinned to the ceiling. I should stop, but I can’t.
I slip my fingers lower until two of them press along her entrance. I want to slide my fingers inside her, but I also don’t want to tarnish her for when she’s handed back to Igor. I slide my fingers back up and rub her clit.
She tries to move again, her focus returning to me.
“I’ll gladly spank you again.” I almost want her to move, and when she doesn’t, I continue my assault on her clit.
Her hands clench the sheets under her. She’s fighting off the sensation, and I move my fingers quicker. My cock presses painfully against my trousers, and the thought of fucking her sweet, pure pussy have me spreading her further and running three fingers across the swollen bud.
She gasps again and is ready to move away from me when she arches her back and moans. I want to taste it. I want to taste her juices, but I keep moving my fingers, thinking about how I’m the first man to make this beauty come.
She comes seconds later, her fingers tightening around the sheets, and she cries out. She continues to vibrate and shake under my hand in the aftermath of her orgasm. She’s staring at me like I just appeared, and when I remove my fingers from her panties, I place them in my mouth and taste some of the sweet nectar that I’m sure still flows from her.
“You shouldn’t touch me.” Panic claws at her, and she’s pushing herself up, but I slowly push her back down and climb on top of her, pressing my hard cock against her pussy.
“I can do what I want to you, Evie.” I grip her wrists and drag her arms above her head. She smells fucking delicious. “I could fuck you right here on this bed, and no one would do a thing about it.”
Her breath brushes my neck as I lean in and press a kiss to her jawline. “I’d sink my cock into your virgin pussy. It wouldn’t be nice, Evie.” I let a laugh slip from my lips. “It would be very nice for me.” I lean out to look her in the eyes. “But not you. I’m sure you know a woman’s first time is painful.”
A lone tear slips from the corner of her eye, and I’m ready to stop torturing her.
“Who are you trying to ring?” I ask again and push my cock, which throbs painfully in my trousers, against her core. I want her to defy me. I want an excuse to allow my darker side to take over.
Would Igor demand the money, or would he punish me for my disobedience?
“Lucca.” My name from her trembling lips has me tightening my hands around her wrist, but I pause.
More tears leak from the corner of her blue eyes. I haven’t seen many women cry, not ones under me anyway. Any woman under me is normally moaning out my name, not shedding fucking tears.
I release her wrists, but she doesn’t move, and her cries don’t stop.
“I lost everything at ten.” Babbled words fall from her lips.
I don’t blink as her confession fills me. Why should I care? She’s here to help me solve this case.
“I can’t lose any more.” Her lip continues to tremble.
“Why are you telling me this?” Does she expect me to care?
My words have her tears drying up and her sniveling stopping, but that haunted look I’ve seen in the eyes of too many boys digs deep and manages to worm its way beyond my rib cage. It’s like a kick to my black heart.
“I don’t know.” She tries to curl away from me, but the weight of my body prevents her escape.
Grabbing her wrists, I pin them back above her head.
“I don’t care what you lost or what you will lose. All I know is that you’re here to help me solve this case. Then when I find the other girls, I will return you all to Igor.” I push down on her wrists like my words can be driven deep into her skull.
I release her and get off. “Go to your room.”
She stumbles from the bed but pauses and gathers her clothes. Her cries linger behind her for far too fucking long.