For a fraction of a moment I wake up disorientated. The room is devoid of any light and if it wasn’t for the silvery moonlight, which is bathing us in a surprisingly bright glow, I would be as blind as a bat. My arms are wrapped around the sexy little goddess that is draped across my body. She’s slumbering peacefully and my gaze lands on her beautiful face. Raeva looks impossibly perfect right now. We are still on the couch and although it should be very uncomfortable, it feels…right. It feels like home. The thought is oddly enough agreeable to me. As my mind starts to make peace with the realization that I am actually inviting this— wanting her in my life, needing her in my life—another realization hits me and my throat starts to close up. I have finally found her and the very few things in my life that are beyond my control can rip her away from me. I won’t let that happen. I refuse to lose her now. My fingers seem to have a mind of their own as they run through her silky locks. I manage to reluctantly ease off the couch and take her with me, cradling her body against me. I carry her to the master bedroom and crawl into the very large, very inviting king size bed. The cool sheets cause her to stir.
“Shhhh,” I soothe. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” I whisper as I pull her closer against me.
She sounds vexed as she grumbles something incoherent. I chuckle and kiss the top of her head.
“My little grumpy woman.”
She sighs softly and a ghost of a smile appears on her face. I gently kiss the corner of her plump lips and she snuggles into me, causing me to feel the now familiar tightening in my chest. I am running out of time. I stare at the ceiling. Fuck. I must lay all my cards on the table and I have no goddamned idea where or how to start and that, that is a foreign feeling to me. This woman has me turned inside out.
I can walk into any boardroom, any meeting, with a confidence that emanates from the tips of my toes. There isn’t a problem that I do not blow to pieces, a business deal I cannot turn in my favor, or a situation I cannot mold into fitting my master plan. Yet this woman in my bed, the perfect little angel in my arms, has me by the balls. She has no idea what the hell she means to me. She has no idea what the hell she’s walked into and fuck if she doesn’t deserve better but I am a selfish man. I’ll never deny that. I want her and need her by my side and will do just about anything for her, anything except let her go. I tug her closer to me and my mind drifts to the moment I knew that she was supposed to be mine.
I got the text thirty minutes ago. I was in the middle of a late business dinner. Usually I don’t even glance at my phone during a business meeting, especially not one as important as this one, but ever since I laid eyes on her four days ago, I’ve been trying to find out about her. The more I learn, the more I need to know. People who know me—granted there are very few—will tell you that I am tenacious once I set my mind on something. Yet... this feels different. It feels as if I have no choice in the matter. So tonight, when the text came that she is at some bar with her friends celebrating the fact that she passed her boards, I don’t know what the fuck came over me but the urge to see her, to share this moment with her, overwhelmed me. I got out of there as fast as I could. Don’t get me wrong, I sealed the deal first. Shit, I’m not a moron, but it lacked my usual finesse.
Now I feel a little creepy, sitting alone in the back of some bar as I nurse a Macallan while hiding behind a wall of people. Still, I’ve made sure I can see her from the booth I’m sitting in. She is sitting with some of her friends at one of the small round tables in front of the stage, downing shots of what I am guessing is tequila. I ask myself, not for the first time since I’ve been here, what the hell I’m doing here. I’m just here to have a quick drink, I try and tell myself, even though I know I’m full of shit. I scoot a little to get her in my line of sight. Some guy is murdering a perfectly good song on that stage, almost ruining this moment for me. At least the live band is mostly drowning him out. All I can see from here is her back. Her beautiful dark hair in a messy bun, showing off her slender neck. Sweet Jesus how I want to put my mouth on that neck…sink my teeth in it…stroke my tongue across the sensitive flesh.
What. The. Fuck.
I’m transfixed on the table. She throws her head back as she laughs. She turns to face her friend, her hand flying to her gorgeous chest. I can’t believe I am thrilled to get to see just the side of her face. It’s then I notice her outfit and I frown. She’s wearing a dress that is just a little too frumpy, which makes it hard to tell what she looks like under there, and a pair of high-heeled cowboy boots finishes off the outfit. There isn’t anything wrong with her clothes per se. She looks beautiful but she deserves the best of the best, not these cheap frocks. And on second thought, maybe for now while she isn’t mine yet, it is better this way. I’m lost in thought when I hear her name being called over the microphone. My head swivels toward the stage where her friend is standing, a microphone in hand.
“So you guys…” she slurs. “My bestest friend…my person…has passed her damn nursing boards!” She looks into the crowd and the room starts applauding before she continues. “But not only is this sexy little thing now officially a damn good nurse, this bitch can SANG,” she drawls and then grins brightly. “And we all need her to get her gorgeous ass on this stage so she can grace us with a song! Rae, get your amazing ass up here!”
Raeva is glaring at her friend while shaking her head, who is smiling broadly and holding her hands up. The rest of her friends whoop and holler and encourage her to take the stage. She walks up to the stage, taking the steps gracefully. I take a swig of my whiskey, the amber liquid burning its way down my throat smoothly. She walks over to the guy who is sitting behind the piano and whispers in his ear. I feel a pang of jealousy wash over me. That fucker is too close to her. Get it together, Kingsley. He smiles wide and nods, then rises and walks over to the band to instruct them. Raeva walks over to the front of the stage where the microphone is. She takes it off the stand and brings it to her mouth.
“So…yeah. Hi” She giggles. “Well, my ex—” she emphasizes the word as she points an accusing finger, “friends over there requested that I sing this song. So here goes.”
She winks and as she does the bass starts playing. She slowly sways her hips to the beat and the words start rolling from her lips, wrapping around me like soft silk. She is standing on that stage in her frumpy dress singing the lustful lyrics of the song “Fever” and I swear to god, I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life. I’m mesmerized by her voice, the way her body moves to the beat, and the expression on her face as she sings the words as if she is feeling them. Without her even being aware of it, this siren’s song suddenly has me—all of me—mind, body, and soul, and they’re all reacting to her husky tone and enchanting movements. Who is this sorceress who has cast this spell on me? On me, for God’s sake! This doesn’t happen. I don’t ever get affected by some mere slip of a girl this way and yet I can feel the burning fire she’s stoking with each passing second and with every note about to ignite out of control inside of me. I realize that for the first time in my adult life I’m as hard as a rock just by looking at someone from across a crowded room. She’s not just somebody though. She’s a goddess and I must get closer to her. Straining in my pants, throbbing actually, a certain part of my anatomy is literally begging to be set free from the confinement of my pants. I throw back the rest of my Macallan and stand to get closer to this gorgeous creature. I am so hard it is almost too uncomfortable to walk but I need to get closer. I make my way to the side of the stage, not taking my eyes off of her once. Now that I am this close I can finally see her properly. Fuck me, she is even more stunning than I remember. Her dark eyes are glowing, exuding mystery and sex. She croons the sexy lyrics and I imagine her singing about me. I focus on that mouth of hers and images of her on her knees with her lips wrapped around my member invades my brain. My breath catches in my throat. Her voice is drawing me in as if she is singing on a wavelength that is directly connected to the depth of my soul and to my dick at the same time. I want to give her that fever. I want to give her that lovely way to burn. I want her. Every single part of me wants to show her just how feverish I can make her feel. I feel like I’m a caveman wanting to drag her by her hair to my cave. I want to cherish her, worship her, and make her mine. Possessiveness takes over and my brain starts formulating a plan.
* * *
One of the hardest things to do is to start a conversation that you know you must have but dread with every fiber of your being. What is the best way? Do you try and set up a segue? Or do you just come out and say it?
I grimace as I recall the headline on that wretched newspaper.
‘Like father, like son?’
Hell, I am a lot of things. I can be an asshole. I can be ruthless. I can be a whole bunch of fucking things but I’m sure as hell not a goddamned thing like that twisted son of a bitch. I’m extremely grateful that Mikaela doesn’t have to deal with this. Don’t get me wrong, I’d give just about anything for her to wake up, but sparing her this bullshit is at least a silver lining. Which brings me to Raeva. How am I going to explain this all to her? I don’t want her anywhere near that crap but that option has been taken off the table. My story is ugly, my past is ugly, and I am not sure if I want to fill her head with this much ugly. Unfortunately, time is about to run out on me and it is time to spill the beans.