- Home
- Meghan March
Beneath These Scars Page 11
Beneath These Scars Read online
Page 11
Oh hell . . . those pecs. Shit. The man did not look like he sat at a desk wearing a fancy suit all day. No paper pusher should be allowed to have abs like that.
I snapped my eyes to his face as he pulled the goggles off his head.
“Once again I find you uninvited in my pool room. You’re wearing too many clothes this time.”
I didn’t acknowledge his comment before I launched into my tirade. “If you want to know something about me, you come to me. Don’t go snooping around in my business or trying to get information out of my friends. If I want you to know something, I’ll tell you. Otherwise, mind your own damn business. You get me?”
Titan moved to the edge of the pool, and I stepped back. It proved to be the right choice because he placed both palms on the tiled floor and lifted himself out of the pool.
Holy. Hell.
I had to avert my eyes. It was like looking at the sun, except he was all golden skin and lean, long muscles. And he was wearing tight enough swim shorts that his bulge was in no way concealed.
He’d felt huge when I wrapped my hand around him—and when he’d pushed inside me.
Focus, Yve. You don’t like him.
But my body’s reaction proved once more that I didn’t have to like him to want him.
I WONDERED IF YVE KNEW I could see straight up her dress before she stepped away from the edge of the pool. Unlikely, and I wasn’t going to point out the fact. But still, it was a shame when she moved back. Unfortunately she’d chosen white lace today instead of going bare. I just wondered if it was a thong . . .
Already, I could feel my dick perking up in my swim shorts. Not surprising. The woman only had to breathe to get me hard.
I pushed out of the pool, letting the water cascade off me. Once I was on two feet, I stepped to the chair to grab my towel and began to dry off.
Yve stood silently. A glance in her direction showed her eyes glued to my body.
“Want me to drop the trunks so we’re even? After all, I got to see all of you.”
Her spine shot poker straight. “Not necessary. That’s not why I’m here.”
I had no intention of letting her leave without getting another taste of her, but I could bide my time. For now.
I shrugged and tossed the towel aside. “Then why are you here?”
“Because you’re meddling in my life.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Meddling how? I haven’t done a thing.”
“You went to the gym trying to dig up information on me.”
“I did.” I wasn’t about to hide it, but my confession didn’t slow her down.
“You want to know something about me, then you come to me.”
When she jabbed a finger at her own chest to make her point, I was reminded of her perfect tits and dusky-rose nipples. I needed to fuck her while we were both naked. Preferably in front of a mirror so I could see everything. But first, I wanted answers.
“Then you tell me. What the hell sent you running out of your apartment?”
“It’s none of your goddamn business, Titan,” she shot back.
“Guess what, Yve? I decide what’s my business, and for some damn reason, I’ve decided you are.”
She stepped toward me. “Well, undecide. I don’t need you meddling in my life.”
Stubborn woman. “Have you ever asked for help?”
“I don’t need your help.”
“That wasn’t my question. My question was,” I took another step closer, until the skirt of her dress pressed against my still wet thighs, “have you ever asked for help.”
She refused to lower her eyes, but her chest rose and fell faster with each breath. “I don’t see the point of asking for help. It always comes with strings attached.”
She didn’t step away, and I found that almost as fascinating as her answer.
“I knew you were a smart woman, because my help definitely has strings attached. I want you naked when I’m inside you next time.”
Her golden eyes sparked and flashed, right before she pressed both hands against my chest and shoved.
I could have stopped the backward momentum, but instead I grabbed her waist as I stumbled backward over the edge of the pool—and took her with me.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” I SPUTTERED AS I broke the surface. Reaching out blindly, I shoved at anything I could reach, which happened to be hot, solid muscle. I yanked my hands back like I’d been burned and swiped the water out of my eyes. “You’re such a dick.”
Titan threw his head back and his laughter echoed through the room. I’d never seen a smile on his face like this one. Ever. In fact, I didn’t think I’d really seen him smile. Smirk like an asshole? Sure. But smile? No.
Since when did I start keeping track of the man’s facial expressions? Didn’t matter.
“I’ve never pretended to be anything else,” he said.
I fought the urge to scream. My dress was soaked—and it was white. I was wearing a very sheer white bra, and my nipples were now hard as pebbles and completely visible.
I moved to cover my chest with my arms, but Titan backed me into the corner of the pool. My fight-or-flight instincts should have been waging an epic battle, but I was too pissed to be scared. He wasn’t going to hurt me. I, however, might hurt him.
The skirt of my dress floated up in the pool around me, and I shoved it down.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Yve.”
I jerked my head up to meet his eyes as Titan reached out to brush a wet curl away from my face.
I pressed both hands to his chest one more time, ready to push him away, but froze . . . because his head was lowering to mine.
“Wha—what are you doing?” I said breathlessly.
“Kissing you.”
“I told you not to.” His mouth was so close to mine, I was sure he felt the words on his lips.
“You didn’t stop me last time. And I take what I want—which is you.”
The burn of my anger morphed into flames of heat and need. My hands turned traitor and slid up to grip his shoulder and the back of his neck. Apparently my better judgment had left the building, along with my self-imposed rules.
For some reason only God himself knew, I wanted to kiss this man.
So I did.
Titan’s firm lips landed on mine, and his tongue wasted no time delving inside. He pressed a palm to my face to tilt my head as he deepened the kiss. I had no idea why I let him lead; probably because he was so damn good at it.
It had been too long since I’d been kissed like I was the air someone needed to breathe, and that was exactly how Titan kissed. It was all consuming.
I squeezed my thighs together as my mind immediately went to how all consuming he’d been when he’d taken me in the kitchen. I shouldn’t want him this much, especially since he was a shining example of everything I despised. But I kissed him anyway.
Titan’s other hand slid from my waist down to my bare thigh and then upward. My high-cut panties didn’t provide any protection from his questing fingers as they gripped my ass. He lifted and pulled me against him. That rock-hard erection pressed exactly where I needed it. My clit came to life at the pressure and friction.
It didn’t take long. Hell. I was going to come.
I should have been horrified that he could cause such a reaction from me, but all I did was rock against him harder and faster.
He lifted his mouth a fraction of an inch. “I want you to come for me. Right now. Can you get there?”
“Shut up. Kiss me,” I mumbled against his lips.
His mouth crushed against mine again, and the hand previously guiding my face dropped to free my breast from the soaked fabric of my dress. My moans were lost in the kiss, but I could feel the orgasm rising in me. Just a few more—
I stiffened, letting it wash over me and vibrate out through my limbs. I rocked against him, not as hard this time, to keep the waves rolling through me.
Oh. My. God. I needed that.
I broke my mouth away fr
om his as I drooped against him.
“Jesus Christ, that was hot.”
It was his voice. Lucas Titan’s voice. In my ear. After I’d just come. It should have ruined everything, but it just made me hotter.
I hated myself for liking it. I shoved away from him as self-loathing slid over me like the chlorinated water.
“Let go.” I turned in the circle of his arms and tried to push out of the pool.
His hands wrapped around my waist and held me firmly, bringing me back against his chest. “Oh no. You’re not going to run this time.”
“Let go of me. Now.” My tone meant business. Serious business.
Surprisingly, he listened, even backing up so I could scramble out of the pool. I lunged for the towel he’d used earlier and pulled it around my body.
I have to get out of here.
“Yve, wait.”
I didn’t know where my sandals were, probably somewhere at the bottom of the pool. Fuck it. I’d walked barefoot before. I dashed to the door and pulled it open.
I needed to get the hell away from Titan. He was dangerous.
WELL, THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY.
Fuck. I dove under, grabbed Yve’s sandals off the bottom of the pool, and climbed out. If she was going to run from me, I’d at least make sure she wasn’t doing it barefoot.
I wasn’t done with her yet. She could deny it all she wanted, but she craved this as much as I did.
I grabbed another towel off the stack on the table and dried off as I hustled out of the pool room. In the hallway, I could hear Jerome—God bless the man—talking to Yve.
“I’m fine,” she was telling him. “I just need to go.”
“But you’re soaking wet, my dear.”
“Well, that’s what happens when an asshole pulls you into the pool.”
“I think you’re missing an important detail,” I drawled, interrupting them. “Because you pushed me first.”
Yve’s head swiveled around, her cheeks deeply flushed with what I wanted to believe was lust, but was more than likely embarrassment. I tied the towel around my waist, because my dick still hadn’t calmed down, and I didn’t need Jerome seeing that.
“Yve, we need to talk,” I said.
Her eyes hardened. “I need to go. I have shit to do. And I also have nothing to say to you.”
“Yve—”
Jerome interrupted. “My dear, how about I find you something dry to put on. You don’t want to run off like that.”
She looked at Jerome, then me. “You keep a lot of women’s clothes in your house? You know, for occasions like this when you dunk them in the pool.”
I held back what I really wanted to say, given our audience, and instead replied, “I’m sure Jerome could find you something. His nieces have been here.”
“Yes,” Jerome said in an even tone, “and I’m sure they’ve left something behind. If nothing else, Lucas will fetch you something of his.”
“I think I’d rather stay wet.”
My lips quirked into a smirk.
Holding the towel to her chest, she turned for the door. Hell, her dress really was transparent now that it was wet. Everywhere.
“Yve. Wait.” She didn’t, so I said a word I rarely uttered. “Please.” When she froze, I continued. “Let us get you some dry clothes. It’ll only take a minute.”
My request hung in the air for long moments before she finally replied, “Fine. I’ll wait.”
“I’ll return promptly,” Jerome said before hurrying off as fast as his old legs could carry him, leaving Yve and me alone.
She didn’t turn to face me.
“So you come and then you go?” I asked.
Yve spun. “Fuck you, Titan. Don’t you dare try to shame me—”
I closed the distance between us. “The only shameful thing here is that you’re not naked and under me right now.”
Her expression hardened. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have—”
“Come from rubbing against my cock? I beg to differ. Although I’d prefer you wouldn’t have stopped there.”
“Jesus, you’re crass.”
“Just stating the facts.”
She released one hand’s grip on the towel, and it slid a little south. That hand went straight to her hip—propped and sassy. “I don’t like you,” she declared.
“I thought we’d established that you don’t have to like someone to want to fuck them.”
“Doesn’t make it a good idea.”
“Come on, Yve. Why not figure out an arrangement that’ll work for us both—”
I wasn’t prepared for the crack of her palm across my cheek, or the sting that followed.
“Fuck you and your arrangement.”
She tossed the towel to the floor, yanked the door open, and stalked out.
A MISTRESS. THAT WAS ALL men thought the women in my line were good for. Sex. That was it. Until I’d found the one who wanted to marry me.
God, I’d been so young and naive. I’d thought he loved me. Little did I know, he’d just wanted to own me. Some scars would never fade, and the ones Jay had left were equally as painful as the ones my mother had inflicted—except hers were invisible. Disguised as words of encouragement as I grew up, they still haunted me.
You’re a pretty girl, Yve. You’ll have no trouble finding a man to take care of you. You’ll be just like your mama. Never have to work a day in your life, as long as you keep him happy.
An arrangement. That was exactly what a guy like him would want. I would never let a man take care of me in exchange for sex. Screw that. My determination to make Dirty Dog mine and prove myself as a competent businesswoman grew exponentially. I was not my mother. I had more to offer than my body. And screw anyone who believed differently. Especially Lucas Titan.
Yeah, I might have considered another round with the guy, but that was a far cry from a goddamn arrangement. Angry, I wrenched the steering wheel a little too hard as I turned down my street. The word set me off like nothing else. It was right up there with understanding.
In my book—which might be a messed-up one, but it was the only one that mattered—they were all euphemisms for the same damn thing . . . being a whore. Not a slut, not sleeping around—I was totally cool with that. What I wasn’t cool with was someone offering to compensate me for the use of my pussy.
I slammed on the brakes after I pulled into my parking spot, and eyed the stairs to my apartment. The locksmith had installed all new locks, and the security people had installed an alarm system. Neither of which I’d run by my landlord, but he was going to have to get over it because all I cared about was my own damn safety.
I stomped to the stairs and climbed them. Despite the warm evening, I was shivering in my soaked clothes. As I jammed my key into the lock, the deep purr of an engine sounded from behind me.
If that was an Aston Martin . . .
I glanced over my shoulder. A strange pang hit my chest when I saw it wasn’t an Aston Martin, a reaction I refused to believe was disappointment.
Get real, girl. Like Lucas Titan would ever chase after you like that. Not that I wanted him to.
I walked back down the stairs to meet Geneviève in the middle of the small backyard at the cheap bench I’d put out there.
“Ginny. What brings you here?”
Ginny didn’t do her hug-and-air-kiss routine. She didn’t comment on my destroyed dress or my surely bedraggled appearance. No, she crossed toward me and grabbed my shoulders.
“He’s out, Yve. He’s already out.”
“I heard.”
Ginny’s eyes widened. “How did you know? I didn’t even know.”
How could that be? That mystified me. She was the matriarch; she knew everything that happened in that family.
“A friend who was keeping tabs.”
“Good. Good.” She nodded with each word. “You need friends right now because I’m very concerned about his mental state. All those years in prison . . . he’s not the same person anymore,
Yve. I . . . I don’t know what he might do.”
Then why did you let him get out? I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. Something about being around the usually unflappable Ginny helped me gather my composure. I thought about the glass and the missing perfume. It was harmless stuff, which was why I hadn’t gone to the police. If he’d left a dead cat on my doorstep, then I would have had something to point to and tell anyone who would listen that they needed to throw his crazy ass back in prison.
“Do you know where he is?”
She shook her head. “My son won’t tell me anything. He’s kept me out of it completely. After I pushed the divorce through, he’s never trusted me with anything about Jay. He thinks I’ve chosen sides, and obviously chosen wrongly.”
I gritted my teeth in frustration. “Could he be at the hunting cabin? Any rental properties?” Any new mistresses’ houses?
I wanted to say the words, but didn’t. Not just because it seemed wrong to ask something like that of Ginny, but because Jay’s daddy had actually been pretty faithful to my mama over the years—more faithful than to his wives. But still, even for a woman who looked fifteen years younger than she was, my mama was in her waning years. He was due to move on eventually.
I hadn’t talked to my mother since the day I’d woken up in the hospital and she’d been sitting in my room, waiting for me. The scene was still so vivid in my mind.
The first words out of her mouth had been, “What did you do?”
She’d refused to believe that I hadn’t goaded Jay into almost killing me. When I told her that I’d finally had the courage to ask him for a divorce, she’d raised her hand to slap me, but my face was covered by bandages.
“All you had to do was make the boy happy, Yve,” she’d said. “And you couldn’t even manage to do that.”
“But, Mama, he—”
“I don’t care what he does, you’re his wife. You’re screwing up the best thing that ever happened to you. And if this ruins my relationship with his daddy, I swear to the Lord above, you’re dead to me.”
Tears had streaked down my face, soaking the bandages. My voice had shaken when I’d ordered her to get out, because she was already dead to me.