Chapter 24

24

Nick

Ihad no business entering that bathroom. I’d wanted to give her some peace and time to herself. Unfortunately, there was no other way of finding out what size clothes she wore.

The plan had been simple—slip in, check her dress size, then slip out, and I set out to do just that. The darkness of the room came as a surprise, but in some ways, I understood why. I’d always felt at ease in the dark, too.

Slipping through a narrow crack, I closed the door behind me, hoping the light from the window kept her from noticing the momentary brightness.

I’d been a prick for earlier and wanted to do something nice, but there I stood, holding her dress while staring at her perfect curves through the obscure glass.

What’d happened to all the hate and disgust the woman incited? Since when did the sight of her suddenly have my body hardening, heat pumping through my veins while blood shot straight to my dick?

Somewhere in the blur of her body, the word WHORE was eternally etched in her skin. It’d made me see her differently, because the scar on her back was no different from the one on my head. Inflicted by the same man, fueled with the same hate.

Her soft moans carried across the room, and I froze, riveted, as her hands caressed her body through the moonbeams filtering in. Her hands smoothed over her arms, her breasts, her legs. The dips and peaks bowed and arced in perfect proportions, from her large, rounded breasts, her tiny waist and tight, curvy ass. When she arched back into the spray of the water, the first pull of desire tugged at my dick.

Keep away from her, Alec’s voice chimed inside my mind, only that time it sounded more like a plea than a warning.

I couldn’t argue against it. Following my desires in the past, with other women, hadn’t ended well, and the last thing she needed was to suffer whatever messed up shit happened when the lights went out inside my head.

But fuck, that body of hers called out to me like a siren. I felt like a rotten bastard for what I wanted to do to it. How badly I needed to watch her writhe with the pleasure of being defiled by my cock, while her screams reverberated inside the small shower stall.

Leave. Now.

Dropping the dress back to the floor, I backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me, and texted her size to Lauren.

A half hour passed before Aubree emerged, swimming in my T-shirt and sweatpants, with long, wet locks of hair falling around her shoulders. Fuck. Me.

The familiar scent of my shampoo and soap permeated throughout the room, but mingled with her own natural smell and made for an intoxicating aroma that had my mouth watering and my predator alarms going off like a wolverine about to tear into an innocent rabbit.

She seemed uncomfortable in my clothes and fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. “I didn’t want to go through your things, but I didn’t see a brush … or anything.” Her voice had suddenly become more timid than before. Shy.

I pushed off the bed, slid past her, and grabbed the comb from the top drawer of the sink, holding it outright as I returned to her. “This work?”

“Yeah, thanks.” She nabbed the comb, and when her soft finger grazed mine, I dropped it. As we both crouched to pick it up, I gripped her shoulder to keep from knocking heads, and my finger brushed the smoothness of her throat. My muscles stiffened, and I rubbed my thumb back and forth against that same spot, staring at her.

“You don’t have to wear my clothes if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” She hardly lifted her gaze, staring somewhere in the neighborhood of my chest. “I like wearing them.”

“You look uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the clothes making me uncomfortable, Nick. When you … look at me the way you’re looking at me right now … you’re … making me nervous. I don’t know if you’re ready to strangle me, or—”

I quickly gripped her arms and lifted her to her feet, taking in the feel of her skin against my fingertips. Warm silk glided beneath my thumb as I stole the opportunity to touch her, really touch her, every ridge, every goose bump that puckered under my caress. “It’s been three years since I’ve touched someone. I don’t want to give you pain with these hands. I just want to feel.” I pushed a strand of wet hair away from her face and dragged my finger down her cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” I whispered.

With some hesitation, I leaned toward her, eyes studying hers for the first twinge of resistance.

I parted her lips with mine, more gentle than our first encounter, and simply explored her mouth. Warmth feathered my cheek as our exhales mingled in the tiny space that separated us, and I pressed my lips against hers in a kiss so deep, so penetrating, each moan left me one fine thread from losing control.

As I pulled back, a tear fell down her cheek, and the bastard inside of me surfaced once again when I released her and stepped back. “Why are you crying?”

She shook her head. “I’m not going to let you break me, Nick. Not with your kiss. Not with your touch. Too long, I’ve survived, to let you tear down my guard. I’ll survive you, too.” Her sad eyes stared up at me, before she turned and exited my room, Blue trotting behind her.

I couldn’t blame her. It’d been stupid of me to toy with something I had no intentions of pursuing. I had a job to finish, and Aubree was a means to that end. With a few smart moves, I’d own Michael Culling, would have him groveling on his hands and knees like a little bitch, begging me for mercy. That was the ultimate goal, and I didn’t need the distraction along the way. In between, my goal would be to keep myself occupied. Find something to occupy her.

Even if her touch had rattled something inside of me—confirmed with a downward glance.

Much as I’d have tried to deny it, I liked seeing her in my clothes.

Too much. I slipped inside the bathroom, closing the door behind me, and like some kind of perverted fucking hound dog, I inhaled her scent.

I had to get it out of my system. Had to get her out of my head, and banging a prostitute didn’t seem to be an option for me.

Flipping on the shower, I decided to keep the lights off, as she had, and I stepped inside the steam-filled stall.

Water pounded in angry vibrations along my spine. One touch, and everything suddenly felt different, more sensitive. I hated what she was doing to me, the bittersweet torture of driving me mad with lust, all while I knew I shouldn’t want Aubree Culling that way.

My enemy’s wife. The one woman in the world I should’ve avoided like a sane man running from delirium.

Touching her skin. Kissing her. Wet hair. Tight ass. Perfect tits. I was unraveling, coming undone.

It’d become a battle between my mind and my dick.

One taste, one touch, one fuck, my dick proclaimed.

Keep to the plan. Revenge. No distractions. The same words Alec would say to me. Except, Alec wasn’t around and he couldn’t be reached. Which meant I’d been left to my own devices.

I rested my forehead against the tiles and rammed my skull against the unyielding wall, taking in the jagged jolts of pain racing through my bones. Tightly wound knots of confusion tugged inside my head, all of them tied to Aubree. Without the makeup. Without the fancy dresses and jewelry. The Aubree in my mind had been stripped down to her most basic self, making her more exquisite than ever.

Steam filled my lungs, the heat of the water leaving a thin layer of sweat on my face, and I pressed my forehead harder against the cool tiles and took a firm grip of my stiff dick. Long, torturous pulls coincided with the visual in my head—of Aubree, bound and blindfolded to my bed. I let the scenario play out as I pumped in and out of my slick palm.

She wears my shirt that bunches up to her waist, as she writhes in a slow struggle. Her hips circle against the bed in a languid tempo, taunting me, testing my restraint, and have my muscles tensing with visuals of slamming into her.

“Please.” Her plea carries an air of desperation. “I want to.”

To be set free? Fucked? I’ve no idea what she’s begging me for.

“Nick, please.” Her moans become more intense, and her breasts jut forward, nipples peaking through the thin white cotton as she arches off the bed. “Help me.”

From the footboard, I stare down at her as she struggles—for freedom, or from need, I can’t decide, but both are rousing dangerous thoughts.

Her knees come together, and her ass grinds into the mattress. Soft moans escalate to mewling, and her head rolls impatiently against the pillow, her fingers pumping within the confines of her binds, as if she’s frantic to get herself off but can’t.

“Please!” The harsh bellow bounces off the wall, finally snapping that fine thread of control to which I’ve been clinging.

I climb onto the bed and pry her knees apart, and she thrusts her hips upward, offering her pussy to me like a feast. Gripping her ass, I dip my head between her thighs and drag my tongue along her glistening seam, smiling when she cries out.

“Please, Nick. Fuck me. Make me come. I’m in pain.”

Rising to my knees, I position myself at her entrance and slide inside her. She lowers herself to the bed and releases a pained sigh that is both relief and agony. I know this because I feel it, too, as I rock in and out of her tight pussy with the realization that I don’t want the torment to end. I want to stay inside of her, with her warm, silky body around my dick and her soft whisper droning inside my head, telling me how good it feels.

I hate myself for wanting her, craving her so badly, I’d kill to hear her scream my name.

I up the pace and her fingers curl around the binds. She bites her lip, arching her back, and the ‘O’ she moans, coupled to her trembling, tells me she’s close.

Falling on top of her, I drive her home.

Her screams echoed in my ear, and light exploded behind my eyes as hot semen pulsed into the swirling water slipping down the drain.

Aubree. I rode out the last of my orgasm, forehead pressed into my arm against the tiles, hand balled to a fist, while the light prickles radiated to every muscle in my body, weakening them.

Rubbing a hand down my face, I pushed upright, shaking off the momentary dizziness. For fucks sake. I’d just blown my load while fantasizing about Aubree Culling.