Bailey
I WOKE WITH a start, lying in my bed for a few minutes trying to get my bearings. I glanced at my cell phone screen, hoping I might have missed a call from Brock. I didn’t. He hadn’t called me in more than thirty-six hours. Hadn’t texted me. Hadn’t come to the house. Nothing. I thought he’d understood my code. Apparently, he hadn’t.
I set my phone on the nightstand and sat up. Running my hands down my face, I stood and headed to my bathroom. I did my thing, washed my face, and as I slid a brush through my hair I recalled my dream. I remembered waking in the middle of the night because I felt like I was being burned. Fire roared around me and I felt the heat, but had no way out. It had taken me several minutes to get back to sleep.
I gasped. “Burner. Crap.”
I rushed into my closet and to the boot I’d hidden my burner phone in. I powered up the phone and saw six missed calls and thirty-seven texts, when all of a sudden, I was turned and pressed up against the wall, a strong hand covering my mouth. I dropped the phone and glanced up at Brock, relaxing immediately.
“Don’t scream,” he ordered.
I nodded. Brock released me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m putting an end to this idiocy. You and I are gonna talk,” Brock snapped, and I bit my lip. Damn, he looked good. If a little tired, and currently, very pissed off.
“Okay.”
The fight went out of him. “Okay?”
I nodded.
“Fuck, Bailey, why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“Because I’m a little slow on the uptake.”
“Come again?”
“I totally forgot about the burner. My dad didn’t let me out of his sight last night and I crashed when I finally went to bed.”
“Damn it, baby. I thought you believed him. I have called you every hour on the hour and came by early this morning, when your dad served me with a restraining order.”
“Take a breath, honey,” I ordered.
He frowned.
“I gave you the code word,” I said. “I thought you picked up on that.”
“I did. But then when you didn’t respond to my calls, I grew a little concerned.”
“Who’s spiraling now?”
He didn’t answer. Just pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tiptoes to gain better access. I broke the kiss, but stayed close to him. “Still need to talk?”
His eyes went dark and he took a step back. “You know me, Bailey. Do you really think I would murder someone and then try to cover it up?”
I sighed. “Honey, I already figured out that my dad made a few things up, or at the very least, embellished.”
“A few?”
“Okay, more than a few,” I admitted. “Did you kill the guy?”
“Yes.”
“Was it self-defense?”
Brock nodded. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
He stroked my cheek, his eyes growing dark again. “I walked in on Macey being raped.”
I gasped. “What?”
“I killed the man who was raping her.”
“Oh, my god, honey.” I fell against him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “What happened?”
“I don’t really want to have this conversation with you in your closet.”
I gave him a gentle squeeze. “Fair enough. But you’ll tell me at some point?”
“If you want to know, yes.”
“I want to know.”
He kissed my forehead. “It’s a promise.”
I led him out of the closet and back into my bedroom. “What now?”
“Your dad’s lying to you and I’m not sure why. It goes deeper than him thinking I’m not good enough for you. He’s been planning this for a while and we’re gonna sort that out. You just need to trust me.”
I leaned back. “I do trust you.”
He cupped my cheeks. “Now that we have that out of the way, kiss me.”
I shifted so I was kneeling on the mattress, closer to his height. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned forward. He chuckled and lowered his lips to my neck, kissing me in the sensitive spot behind my ear.
“Sneak,” I whispered. “I want your mouth, mister.”
“Oh?” he whispered as he slid his hands down to cup my bottom.
“Now, Brock.”
“So bossy,” he said, and kissed me, slipping his hands under the lace of my panties, skin to skin. I moaned, breaking the kiss and dropping my head back.
A knock at my door had me scowling. “Bailey, honey, are you awake?” my mother called.
“Yes, Mom. Just a second.” I stroked Brock’s cheek. “Hide in the closet,” I whispered.
“I’m not hiding from your parents like an errant teenage boyfriend, Bailey,” he whispered back.
“Do you want to explain why you’re here, in my bedroom; despite the fact Dad has a restraining order against you?”
He frowned.
“Exactly,” I reiterated. “Get in the closet, Brock.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he grumbled.
I grinned. “A lotta bit.”
“Bailey?” my mother called again. “Why is your door locked?”
“Go,” I ordered and shoved him toward my closet.”
Brock pressed his lips into a thin line, but did as I requested.
“I love you…baby bird.” I grabbed the robe from the hook on the door on the closet and then shut him inside with a smile…a smug one, but still, a smile. I heard his low chuckle as I made my way to my bedroom door. “Hi, Mom.”
“Why did you lock your door, honey?” she asked, and walked into the room.
“Habit, I guess,” I improvised, and forced a smile. “Ali and I always made sure we locked the apartment.”
“Well, it’s good you stayed safe in Washington.”
“Did you need me?” I asked.
“Josiah called. He’s taking you to the club for lunch.”
“What? No. Absolutely not.”
“Sweetheart, you need to get this murderous man out of your mind and what better way to do that than to have lunch with someone more suited to you?”
“Mom. Josiah Warren is not a nice man.”
“He’s from one of the best families on the East Coast. Of course, he’s a nice man.” She smiled. “And it’s the only way you’re leaving this house.”
“Mom. I don’t like Josiah on any level.”
“You need a distraction from that boy who is clearly a bad influence on you.”
I crossed my arms. “First, Brock isn’t a boy. He’s the man I’m in love with—”
“Who murdered a man,” she interrupted.
I took a deep breath. “That’s what Daddy said. I’m not entirely sure we have all the information, though.”
“Bailey Amelia Harper, we did not raise you to be so naïve.”
Well, yeah, you kind of did.
I sighed. “Fine, Mom. I’ll go.” I heard a bang from my closet and grimaced.
“What was that?”
“I bet it was my bag,” I said, and quickly peeked inside my closet. Brock stood, his hands fisted at his sides, his face red as he gritted his jaw. I smiled and mouthed, I love you, before closing the door again. “Yep. My bag tipped. It’s fine, Mom.”
“Do you want me to help you find something to wear?”
“Mom, I’m almost twenty-two years old. I’ve been dressing myself for a while now.”
My mother narrowed her eyes, but then gave me a nod. “I’ll approve it when you’re ready.”
“Okay, Mom. I appreciate it.” I guided my mother back to my door. “I’ll just get in the shower now, okay?”
“Look sweet, Bailey.”
“Of course, Mom.” I smiled and closed the door behind my mother, locking it again.
Brock pushed out of the closet, a scowl on his face. “You are not going to lunch with that parasite, Bailey,” he whispered.
“I know I’m not.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going to pack up a few things that I can’t live without and my incredibly hot and intelligent fiancé is going to figure out how to get said things out of my house, while I pretend to go to the club. I’m going to insist that my parents come with me, so that the house will be relatively empty. It’s Betsy’s day off and Daddy’s goons will go wherever he goes.” I slid my hands up his chest. “Then that same hot and incredibly intelligent fiancé is going to do what he came here to do, and once that is done, he’s going to whisk me out of the club and take me somewhere private and fuck me…hard.”
Brock’s eyes grew dark. “Don’t like it.”
“You don’t want to fuck me hard?” I asked in all innocence.
“Babe.”
I kissed his neck and slipped the buttons on his jeans. “Yes, honey?”
“I don’t like this plan.”
I shrugged. “Don’t care. It’s the best way and it means we can be done with this.”
“Bailey,” he warned.
I slid my hand under the waistband to cup him, stroking as I went. “Yes, honey?” He hissed air through his teeth and I smiled. “I have to take a shower. Join me?”
“Your parents won’t walk in?”
“No. They won’t. We’ll lock the door, turn on the radio, and have a little fun. Okay?”
He nodded, his eyes dark and hooded with desire. I kissed him and then led him into the bathroom, hitting the power button on my radio as I passed it. Turning on the shower, I faced him and watched as he pulled off his shirt and jeans. He was already hard, and I licked my lips in anticipation. He dug his wallet out of his jeans pocket and pulled out two condoms, grinning as he set them in the shower.
“Two?” I mused.
“Absolutely.”
I clapped quietly and then yanked my cami from my body, slipping my panties off simultaneously. Brock grasped me around the waist and pulled me close. “Eager?”
“It’s been almost two days,” I complained.
“Well, I better take care of you then.”
He guided me into the large glass box, pointing the shower head slightly away from us, and kneeling in front of me, leaning into the apex of my thighs. I gasped as his tongue lapped at me and I slid my hands into his hair.
“Spread your legs, baby,” he directed.
I did as he asked, and he slid two fingers inside of me as he tongued and sucked my clit. “So wet, baby.”
I whimpered. “Brock. I can’t wait.”
“Don’t wait, baby.”
I allowed my body to release and cried out as quietly as I could as the orgasm overtook me.
Brock stood, sitting on the bench at the back of the shower and grabbing a condom. “Sit, baby.”
I straddled his hips, facing him, and lowered my body…slowly, sighing as he filled me.
“You have the greediest pussy.”
“Your fault,” I rasped.
He gripped my ass, guiding me up and down, before cupping my breasts and rolling my nipples between his fingers. He replaced one hand with his mouth and nipped gently, causing my body to spasm. “Too hard?”
“God, no. Harder.”
He smiled as he bit down on my nipple again, using his free hand to slide between my legs.
“Brock,” I panted.
“Faster, baby.”
I obliged, using his shoulders for leverage and when I knew I was close, I took his mouth and kissed him hard, my scream muffled in the kiss as I exploded around him.
Brock thrust into me once more and then wrapped his arms around me and held me, our bodies still connected.
“It just gets better,” I said, kissing his neck.
“For me too.”
I grinned. “Once more and then we’ll get clean?”
He held up the other condom packet. “So beautifully predictable, baby.”
I giggled and kissed him again.