Chapter 12

My favorite part of the day has always been in the afternoon, right when the sun starts to go down. It's not complete darkness yet, and the light still touches certain parts of places, but it's calm and usually quiet.

It's cold out today, yet here I am, bundled up and out on the property. A property so gorgeous that it takes half a dozen landscapers and yard workers to keep it maintained. Yet no one walks around it. Nobody looks at the flowers planted or the small duck pond that I'm sure was man-made and not natural.

What's the point of it all? If everyone here is too greedy to even pay attention to it, why not just let it all become overgrown? Who cares if there's a garden so big that it would take half of the day just to see every flower? That's what I want to know.

Here I sit, with my sketchbook, on the wooden bench in the center of the beautiful flower garden. Usually, when I pass through on my daily walk around the property, there are a few people gardening, so I don't stop. But now, everyone's gone home for the day. And it's just me, the flowers, and some bees buzzing.

I tuck the pencil back into my new pouch with the others and zip it shut. A pencil case and drawing supplies, which undoubtedly cost more than I've ever spent on art supplies, mysteriously showed up in my bedroom yesterday. I didn't have to ask who was behind it. I knew it was Hudson.

Closing my notebook, I run my hands along the worn leather and breathe in the cool air, letting it spread through my lungs in an attempt to cleanse me of any negative energy I'm carrying.

It doesn't work, proving that sort of thing to be bullshit, but it was worth a shot.

"You'll probably get stung out here, you know."

I don't need to turn around to know it's Hudson behind me.

"Fucking bees. I hate when I have to come out here."

"Who said you had to come out here?" I say, rolling my eyes. "And they only sting when they feel threatened or provoked." I crane my neck to look at him. "So, don't piss them off, and they won't poke you with their stingers."

Walking closer, he stops next to the bench. "Is that actually true, or did you make that up?"

"Google it." I watch his eyes move around, observing the bees move from flower to flower, and I can tell this giant, tattooed, muscled man is a nervous wreck. "I didn't make it up. Swear it." I huff out a laugh. "I kind of thought everyone knew that."

"No." He nods toward my book. "Drawing more dirty pictures? Maybe some pictures of bees fucking on another bee's flower today?"

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" I groan, throwing my head back. "It wasn't you. I just like tattooed men, and one of the tattoos happened to be the same as yours. It was me and another man."

"Yeah, okay," he mumbles. "Are you going to show me what you're working on or what?"

He's always so serious and borderline grouchy that it makes him incredibly hard to read. But when the corner of his mouth turns up just the slightest bit, I know he actually wants to see my sketches.

"Well, there's no bee pornography, so don't get too excited," I tease him before flipping through the book and landing on the page of the garden.

But before I can show him, he reaches down and flips back one page. And when he does, he can't help but chew on the inside of his cheek.

"What is this drawing?" he asks, staring down at it. "Who is that?"

I gaze down, opening my mouth to talk, though the words don't want to come out. "It's my mom." I fight the emotion that's trying to work its way up and shove it back down. "It was Christmas Eve. She was doing really well that Christmas. She even made cookies." I breathe out a tiny laugh. "They were terrible, but still, she made them."

Keeping his arm reached over me, he flips to another page that lands on a drawing of Walker playing hockey in the street in front of our house. "When did you start drawing?"

"I'm not really sure. Maybe when I was, like, seven or eight?" I sigh. "At first, it was cool places I'd imagine going someday. Like … theme parks where you could go to outer space. Or somewhere you could bathe in ice cream." I scrunch my nose up. "Sounds gross now. But back then? It was my only escape."

"Escape from what?" His deep voice vibrates through his chest.

"Life," I whisper, closing my book and looking straight ahead.

He's quiet for a moment. Then, he walks until he's standing in front of me and holds his hand out.

"Do you want to see the prettiest place on the property?"

I look down at his hand. In a lot of ways, I know I shouldn't trust this man. He could be luring me away from the property to kill me, per Enzo's request. But I also don't want to lead on just how much I don't trust him either.

"What if Enzo—"

"Everyone, besides Rossi and me, is somewhere with him tonight." He swallows, making his Adam's apple bob. "Come with me, Dove."

Biting down on my bottom lip, slowly, I take his hand and stand. Choosing to trust him, even though it terrifies me.

We walk along the cliff, looking out at the water. It was already cold out today, but now that the sun is going down, it's fucking freezing.

"I had no idea this house was so close to the ocean," she whispers, breathing in the salty air. "And I get to see it during the best time of the day."

A shiver runs down her body, and her lips tremble.

"Cold?" I ask her, but she instantly shakes her head.

"No, I'm good," she answers quickly, but I know she's lying when I see her body shaking.

Peeling my hoodie off, I pull it over her head. "Here," I tell her. "This will keep you warm."

"Thank you," she says shyly, pushing her hands into the front pocket. "Now, you'll be cold."

"I'll be all right." I fight back a shiver of my own.

I grew up in New England, and I fucking hated the winters so much that as soon as I was eighteen, I moved down South to avoid the shitty weather. Same with my sister.

The sun has almost completely gone down now, leaving only the light touching the coastline, illuminating the shore. It's beautiful, and yet I can't tear my eyes from her.

"How could someone live in such a lovely place, be surrounded by family, and yet … still want more?" she asks softly, her eyes staying on the slow-rolling waves. "How do people get so greedy?"

"Enzo was born into it." I lean against a tree. "Has never known anything but this life."

Her eyes fly to mine, and her expression hardens. "I was brought up by drug addicts who chose to feed their addiction over feeding their children. And yet I don't live like that." She shakes her head at me. "How we were raised doesn't define who we are, Hudson. Only we can do that."

"Maybe so." I wave my hand toward the property behind us. "But not everyone has good in them, Briar. Some are just born bad."

She raises her chin up at me, standing taller. "And what about you, Hudson Hercules? What were you born to be?"

The way she's looking at me … I want her. I want her so fucking bad that it's making me wild. I know it's wrong to chase her. Hell, I shouldn't even be alone with her right now. I'm not being loyal to the one person I swore I'd always be loyal to. But there's something about her, and I just can't stay away.

"Sometimes, you have to be worse than the bad guys," I utter. Reaching forward, I tuck a piece of loose hair behind her ear. "Good guys don't always win, Dove. You must know that by now."

"So, what does that make you?" she breathes out.

"Guess you'll have to wait and find out," I drawl just as she takes one step closer to me.

My heart races with her being so close, and before I know it, I have my hands on her waist, tugging her body against mine. I lean against the tree before bringing her face to mine and kissing her roughly. I dig my fingertips into her skin, kneading her flesh as my cock quickly hardens.

Her hand slides down, rubbing the bulge in my jeans, and she practically pants against my lips.

"Let me …" her voice says desperately as she pulls away. "Let me taste—"

Just then, my phone rings in my pocket. I'm so tempted to ignore it because I'm pretty sure she's asking to suck my cock. And even though I'm not sure I'm ready for another woman's lips to be wrapped around me … the thought of it only hardens my dick more. But I know it could be Rossi. Or worse, Enzo. So, reluctantly, I pull my phone from my pocket, and sure enough … I see Enzo's name.

"It's your fuckface fiancé," I mumble before sliding my thumb across her bottom lip. "Go on, sweetheart. Show me exactly what it is you were going to say."

Batting her lashes a few times, she cocks her head to the side and smirks. And within seconds, she drops to her knees. At the same time that I answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Hercules, I need you to assist with a deal tonight," he says, speaking slow and controlled. "But this time, don't fucking call me."

Within seconds, my belt is being unclasped, and when I gaze down at her, the smirk is gone. And now, there's a desperation in her eyes as she tugs my jeans and briefs down over my hips, my cock springing free.

The sight of her lips just inches from the tip of my dick has me hardly able to form a fucking sentence, but that's nothing compared to when her tongue pokes out and laps the head of my cock.

"When and where do you need me?" I finally choke out just as she opens her mouth and slides me inside of it, down her wet tongue.

"Eleven fifteen at the warehouse." He makes a snorting noise, and I imagine him doing a line of coke. "Good stuff coming in, Hercules. You can't fuck it up. Because if you do, it won't be good for you."

She sucks my cock harder, bringing me in deeper and deeper with each rock of her body. Her eyes gaze up at me, almost in spite of Enzo being on the phone. Like he's the driving force behind how hard she's sucking my dick.

"I understand," I say, feeling a shiver run down my spine, but knowing it has nothing to do with how fucking cold it is outside and everything to do with how much my balls are already starting to tingle from her mouth.

Enzo keeps me on the line but yells to someone in the background. He sounds mad at whoever he's speaking to, but with Briar's tongue lapping my cock before moving and running over my balls, it's all white noise.

"Rossi will be going with you," he says quickly. "So, I'll get someone else to watch that fucking whore tonight."

"Sounds good. I'll be there," I tell him.

By whore, he means the woman who's got my cock so deep in her mouth that she's almost choking. His words would piss me off if my scenery right now wasn't her lips wrapped around me as she looks up. Her eyes water slightly from taking me so deep, but she carries on, gagging on my length every now and then when she goes too far.

"Eleven fifteen," he repeats just as my balls tighten to the point of no stopping in sight. "Don't be late," he says, ending the call.

Within seconds, I blow my load, squirting a mouthful of cum on her tongue, which she swallows without flinching. She drinks me up, taking every ounce until I'm spent. And finally, she pulls her mouth back, stopping at the head of my dick to give me one last lap of her tongue.

"Good girl, licking me clean." I give her hair a little tug. "Your mouth took my dick so good, sweetheart," I grunt out. "So fucking good."

Wiping her mouth, she pushes to her feet, a satisfied grin on her lips. "You're welcome, Hercules," she coos. "It might not have been his desk, and he might not have been here to watch, but hearing his voice on the phone while I had your cock in my mouth? It's a win in my book."

Buttoning my pants and clasping my belt, I brush my thumb along her chin. "He might think you belong to him, but this mouth is mine."

As she starts to walk away, heading in the direction of the house, I catch her wrist. "What about you? You seemed pretty fucking eager to suck me off. You must be soaked."

"I am," she says boldly. "But if we don't go back soon, someone could notice and come looking." Turning toward me, she runs her finger from my neck all the way down my abdomen. "Don't worry, Hercules. With the image of you coming into my mouth, I plan to take care of myself when I get back to my room. Alone."

As she turns, slowly strutting away, I feel a jolt in my dick again.

Because thoughts of her touching herself, imagining sucking my cock?

Yeah, that'll fucking do it.

The water runs down my body, and I close my eyes. Other times in the past few weeks, I hated when I thought of Hudson Hercules and got painfully turned on. Tonight though? I'm not even going to fight it. Because I got to taste him. I had the pleasure of seeing every inch of him up close and personal, and what a hot sight that was.

We're playing with fire, sneaking around the way we just did a bit ago. If Enzo ever found out, we'd be dead before we could concoct a story to cover our asses. But I just can't fight this attraction I feel toward him. I know it's nothing but trouble, yet I can't stop it. Even though I know it's wrong, I sort of like the feeling of having someone here. Even if he might be a bad man deep down. I'm usually pretty good at reading people, but when it comes to Hudson Hercules, I'm at a loss. All I know is, he's incredibly hot. He's got this sexy, broody, grumpy thing going on, and I love his tattoos. Oh, and his mouth is filthy, and what he's packing below the belt is incredibly impressive.

I keep my eyes shut and run my hand down my chest, sliding it over my breast and to my abdomen before continuing on and gliding it between my legs.

"Hudson," I whisper so quietly that even I barely hear myself as I slide my fingers inside.

I imagine having him in my mouth again, and how my lips wrapped around him, and the look in his eyes as he watched me swallow him down when he came. Completely spellbound and so turned on. His eyes were a shade darker than usual, and his body trembled as I tasted him while he came undone.

I slide my fingers in and out, frustrated that he's not here right now. I knew we had been gone long enough. I didn't want to risk getting caught, but dear Lord, I wanted him so badly.

I suck in a shaky breath, picturing him between my legs, sliding his tongue inside of me and rubbing his stubble against my thighs.

"Hudson … yes," I whisper again, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. "Just like that …"

"Christ, Dove," his voice rasps, and my eyes fly open. "I was going to sit back and enjoy the show, but watching you right now has my cock hard again."

He peels his shirt off and wastes no time pulling his jeans down. When he steps inside, I remove my hand from between my legs, reach up, and grip his face.

"It's my turn to come," I mutter before grabbing his hand and sucking his finger into my mouth. "Go on, Hercules. Get on your knees and eat my pussy."

Suddenly, he grabs my wrist and pushes me up against the shower wall. He thrusts his dick into my abdomen a few times.

"Do you think you're in charge, sweetheart?" he growls against my ear, making my nipples painfully hard. "That's cute."

Standing taller, I bite down on his neck and drag my tongue along it before pulling back and peering up at him. "If you want to taste me, then, yes, Hudson, tonight, I am in charge."

For a moment, he just stares at me intensely. Not smiling, but not looking mad either. Just … intense. Before he kneels down, he hooks his hands around the back of my thighs and lifts me up, bringing his face between my legs.

"Hands on the wall, sweetheart," he grumbles before his tongue slides inside of me. "I'm going to eat you until you forget your own name, let alone that asshole fiancé of yours."

Slapping my hands on the tiled wall, I moan. I quickly tell myself to quiet down, but it's really hard.

"I'm going to lick that pretty little pussy until you give me what I want, okay?" he says from between my legs. "And then I might make you give it to me all over again."

My hips begin to roll, and my fingers slip back and forth along the shower wall. Removing one, I thread it through his hair, giving it a tug as I feel his tongue move inside of me further.

"Mmhmm," he murmurs, gazing up at me.

Leaning back, he drags in a breath. "Feel good, sweetheart?" When I sluggishly nod, he presses a kiss right between my legs again. "Good. It's all for you, Dove. Use my tongue. Consider it yours."

When he begins to lick me again, this time harder and faster, my body all but bounces against his mouth. And soon, I'm grinding against his face as I feel my toes begin to curl and my vision darken.

"Yes," I whimper, my thighs involuntarily squeezing around his face. "Oh … God … yes …"

When my orgasm fully washes over me, I almost fall forward because I'm so dizzy. The water pours over us, and gradually, I come back down to earth and stop feeling like I'm flying.

Looking at him, I reach down and cup his face. "Thank you," I pant. "Thank you so much."

His face drips from the shower spray, though I'm sure some of it's from me too. Slowly, he lifts me from him and stands. He brushes the wet hair from my forehead as his eyes dance around my face.

"Anytime."

He spins me around, and I feel his length poke me in the ass. But he doesn't acknowledge it. Instead, he reaches for the shampoo and pumps it a few times into his hand.

"What are you doing?" I ask as he rubs his hands together, brings them to my head, and starts to lather.

"Washing your hair," he answers matter-of-factly. Like that's the most normal thing in the world.

Just when I think I'm starting to figure Hudson Hercules out, the man washes my hair.