Heath
The Past…
“FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE, HEATH, SIT and eat a bite. You’re wearing a hole in the floors,” Helen snips.
I stop pacing to sit at the kitchen table and glare at the phone on the wall, willing it to ring. The plate of bacon and eggs goes ignored the moment she sets it down in front of me. My focus is on my million unanswered questions but mainly one.
Where the fuck is she?
So help me, woman, if you’re not dead already, I’m going to kill you.
I don’t really think she’s dead somewhere. No, it’s much worse than that. When she didn’t call and it got late, I drove my unhappy ass down to the Low Valley Estate. Mrs. Lincoln and her prissy daughter Isabel were all too thrilled to let me know that Catrina was out with Elliot.
Fucking Elliot.
He’s always been a thorn in my side. Small. Inconsequential. Not a concern. Irrelevant. Yet, recently, I’m starting to realize he’s poison. Slowly infecting my sweet love. Spreading his motherfucking disease of money and power, tricking her into believing he’s worthy of her.
As fucking if.
I bet his cock is laughable and he doesn’t even know where to put it half the time.
“She’s probably off with the young Lincoln fellow,” Helen reminds me for the ninetieth goddamned time. “They’re exclusively dating after all. She doesn’t have to tell her brother her every move.”
I shoot Helen a withering glare that has her turning to the stove to scrub the grease from it. I’m not her brother and she damn well knows it. We’re good at hiding our intimate moments from prying eyes, but the snooping maid isn’t an idiot. She’s been around a time or two when a playful kiss between Catrina and I has turned hot.
“Elliot Lincoln is an imbecile,” I grumble.
“An imbecile with money,” she retorts.
I hate money.
I hate it with every fiber of my being.
That’s why I want it.
I want as much of it as I can possibly grab onto so I can manipulate it to my will. So I can fucking rule over it. I’m tired of money, or lack thereof, deciding my future—of it dictating my every move.
My love for Catrina has nothing to do with money.
And I hate that it’s the very thing that tears us apart.
Which is why one day soon, after college and when old Crenshaw comes to an understanding that his daughter and I belong together, I will shed this horrible monetary curse and make my own way. A way that includes her.
There is no way without her.
The front door creaks open and I jolt from my seat with Helen on my heels. I’m just stalking into the foyer when Catrina walks in with Elliot entering behind her. My hate-filled expression is for him and him only. The pussy won’t meet my stare. Instead, he exchanges pleasantries with Helen.
“Please stay for breakfast,” Helen chirps, a little too fucking cheery for nine in the morning.
“The Grand Hyatt has excellent room service,” he says to her and then darts a daring look my way. “Breakfast in bed at one of the finest hotels in New York. Everyone should try it at least once.” He weakens under my murderous stare and then pats Catrina on the shoulder. “Right, darling?”
She bites on her bottom lip and keeps her eyes downcast. When she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, a big fucking diamond glitters in the light.
I growl.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I need to get to the office,” Elliot says lamely. “Goodbye, Catrina. I’ll call you later.”
Gritting my teeth with my fists clenched, I watch as he kisses my fucking girl on the top of her head before scurrying out the front door.
“Such a fine-looking young man,” Helen murmurs.
I snap my attention her way and shake my head. “Give us a moment.”
She nods and then hurries away. The moment she’s gone, I prowl over to Catrina. As soon as I’m nearly touching her chest with mine, I inhale her. She smells like him. It makes the animal within me want to piss a goddamned circle around her, claiming her as mine. I want to drag her into the lake behind the estate and drown her until she no longer reeks of his disgusting scent.
She’s mine.
And yet she wears his motherfucking ring.
“Nice ring,” I hiss, my breath blowing her hair.
Her head tilts up. I’m furious and I want to throttle her. I want to drag her to some corner of this godforsaken earth and keep her there. Tie her to the fucking bed and never let her go. But the moment tears well in her big green eyes, my resolve weakens. All delightful images of cutting Elliot from throat to nut sack and watching him bleed out at my feet fall by the wayside.
A tear rolls down her rosy cheek.
My fist releases as I reach up a finger to steal her sadness. Her tears are mine. Just like her smiles and her laughter and her love are mine. All of it. Mine.
“It’s just a ring,” I growl. “It means nothing to me.”
Her nostrils flare and more tears leak out. “Heath.” My name is spoken like an apology, not a curse. Filled with shame and horror. Regret.
I pull her to me just as she crumples. Sobs rattle through her and her tears soak my dress shirt. Gently, I stroke her hair despite wanting to tug it so I can look her in the eye and demand to know why.
But I know why.
He. Has. Fucking. Money.
And I don’t.
Simply put.
“I don’t care if you have ten husbands,” I snarl, hugging her tighter to me. “I’ll always find you. I’ll fuck you in their beds. I’ll make you mine over and over again. You know this.”
She cries harder. “I-I-I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” I clip out.
Her head tilts up and her fingers slide into my hair. She tries to kiss me with her tainted lips. I lean away from her. “Not with that dirty mouth. Is that the same mouth you sucked his cock with?”
She shoves me and glowers my way. “Fuck you.”
“Looks like Limp Dick Lincoln already got the honors,” I sneer.
Sometimes, our games aren’t fun.
Sometimes, we’re both losers.
Storming past me, she runs up the stairs, kicking her heels off along the way.
Chase me, she begs.
She doesn’t have to say it.
I always know.
With a growl, I storm up the stairs two at a time. She barely makes it into her room before I’m prowling in after her. I kick the door shut and intercept her before she makes it to her bathroom. Her worthless fists pummel my chest and I laugh cruelly at her.
“Those fists mean nothing. The damage is already done, Catrina. Do you love to fucking hurt me?” I demand, my voice rising. “Because that’s what you did.”
“No! You know I don’t want this!”
“Could have fooled me,” I bite out, grabbing her hips and backing her into the doorframe. “You fucked him and you’re wearing his ring.”
“You know I sleep with him on occasion,” she snaps. “Don’t act all sanctimonious now. You know what we are and how this works.”
I pin her body with mine and my grip finds her jaw. My forehead rests against hers as my fingers dig into her delicate flesh. Beneath his scent, I catch a whiff of her. Sweet and floral. Beautiful. Addictive. “I thought I could handle it when it happened, but I can’t. I can’t do this, love. It’s too fucking hard.”
She stands on her toes and I let her kiss me. Sweet and apologetic. “Since when is anything too hard for you, Heath? You’re the strongest man I know.”
My lips fuse to hers and then I devour her. Our tongues tangle, fighting for dominance. I always win. Today, she doesn’t put up her normal fight. When we pull away, our chests heaving for air, I close my eyes. Wishing my life were different. Wishing I were born into a family like the fucking loser Lincolns. Wishing to be anything other than the runt without a last name or a past or a damn legacy.
“Hey,” she murmurs, her fingers latching in my hair. “It’s just a ring. Like you said. It means nothing. This is just another one of life’s games. We can play by our own rules.”
With a growl, I twist her away from me. My lips find her neck and I nip at her flesh as I drag the zipper down on the back of her dress. She allows me to push it from her body. It pools at her feet soundlessly. The frilly panties and bra get discarded next.
God, his scent on her disgusts me.
“You make me crazy,” I hiss, my palm cupping her perfectly round bottom. “So fucking crazy.”
“My madman,” she breathes.
I slap her ass hard, earning a squeal from her. “I’m pissed, Catrina. I’m going to be pissed until I feel like you’ve been punished.” My finger slips between her thighs and pushes into her pussy, causing her to moan. “I’ll remain pissed until I’ve scrubbed every inch of that limp dick’s smell off you.” I slide my hand out and pop her ass again, loving the way her cheeks clench. Then, I ease my hand back to where I want and this time urge two fingers inside her. She whimpers when I fuck her with my fingers and then whines when I pull them back out to whip her again. “I’ll stay pissed until I’m balls deep inside of you where I belong. Tell me you deserve what I’m about to give to you.”
She groans and pushes her now red ass toward my palm. “I deserve a lot more than an ass whipping.”
Slap! Slap! Slap!
I spank her ass that has been seen by another man until she’s squirming and crying. When she’s had enough, I tease her pussy only to whip her some more. This goes on until she’s a mess. Once I think she’s had enough and I can’t bear to strike her anymore, I start ripping at my clothes. She stands, looking sad as fuck and remorseful as I get naked. Once I’m undressed as well, I drag my fucking girl into the walk-in shower with me. She screeches when I turn on the water, the icy blast a shock to her flesh, but then calms as it heats up.
Steam billows around us, trapping us in our own world. Our eyes remain glued to each other. Even as I thoroughly soap her down everywhere. She allows me to wash her until she’s clean and once again all mine. His touch is a thing of the past. The moment she’s rinsed off, I grab her sore ass and lift her. My cock rubs against her clit, but I don’t enter her as I press her back against the cold tile wall. I tease her instead.
“Does he make you come?” I growl, nipping at her jaw near her ear.
Her body shudders in my grip. “Not even close.”
“Do you think of me when he fucks you?”
“It doesn’t last long enough to consider it a fuck.”
Rocking my hips against hers slowly, I revel in the desperate moans as she grows closer and closer to her orgasm.
“You’re not marrying him,” I grind out. “I don’t want to be your secret anymore.”
Our eyes meet and hers are wide with surprise.
“It’s not that easy,” she whines. “You know that.”
And I do.
I have nothing to offer her. Fucking nothing. Without Crenshaw’s money, I’m just a poor kid from the ghetto. But Crenshaw loves me. He certainly loves Catrina. Maybe if we talk to him, he’d let me marry her instead of Elliot. Maybe he could loan me the money to give us our start. I know, with time, I could make her proud of me. I could be worthy and I’d pay back every cent to her father.
With new resolve, I crush my lips to hers. Kiss her violently. Desperately. I pepper unspoken promises all over her pretty mouth.
I will figure out a way for us.
We will win.
My cock slides against her in a way she loves and soon she’s coming, crying out my name.
“Please,” she begs, her palms cradling my cheeks. “I need you.”
I grip her hips and slide her to her feet. Turning to her left hand, I kiss her palm. I wrap my palm around her wrist and kiss my way to her ring finger. With my eyes on hers, I suck her small finger into my mouth. My teeth latch around the massive diamond and I pull it off, scraping her knuckle along the way.
She doesn’t fight me and when I’ve freed her of the abomination, I step away from her. Stalking out of the shower, I make my way over to the toilet and spit it into the bowl.
“Heath!” she admonishes as she turns off the shower.
I belt out a dark laugh before yanking her to me. Our wet bodies are slick and she almost slips from my grasp. Digging my fingers into her ass, I squat and then hoist her over my shoulder.
“Caveman!” she shrieks, beating her fists into my back.
I swat her ass again and carry her into her bedroom. She says my name again—this time like a curse word—when I toss her on the bed. But then, when I crawl over her soaking wet body, my name transforms into something that sounds more like a prayer.
Begging.
Pleading.
A desperation that matches mine.
I grip the backs of her thighs and push them against her, loving the way her tits bounce with the movement. My aching dick rubs against her slick cunt in a teasing way.
“Who do you love?” I ask, my voice low and guttural.
“Always you,” she breathes.
Slowly, almost painfully so, I push into her. Her green eyes flare with love and lust and an insanity that rivals mine until I’m seated fully inside her.
“I love you. He doesn’t love you like I do,” I murmur, my voice cracking with emotion.
Her bottom lip wobbles. “Nobody loves me like you do.”
Catrina and I fuck like rabbits, but today I stamp my very essence on her soul. No ring or swanky hotel screw will erase me. I’m imprinting myself on her being one thrust at a time. I rub her in all the right ways until she sobs out my name. Sad. So fucking sad.
And then I pull out and mark her like the animal I am.
Seeing my cum splattered over her wet, jiggly tits and flat stomach sates my inner beast.
Mine.
“I’ll make him see,” I murmur, my eyes glued to her plump, pouty lips. “I’ll make your father see that we’re in love. That Elliot is nothing. That we can be together. Everything will be fine. I’ll get a loan from him. We’ll marry and I’ll pay him back. Tell me you want that.”
She nods. “I do. God, how I do.”
“It’s done then,” I say and kiss her lips.
For hours we make love—or is it eternity? Time with Catrina is never enough.
I’m about to flip her over and go for more because I’ll never be sated with her, when the door flings open. We scramble to yank the blanket over our naked bodies, but when I realize it’s just nosy Helen, fury replaces my shock.
“What the fuck, Helen?” I roar. “Get the hell out of here!”
She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. It’s then I realize she’s crying. “Mr. Heath,” she chokes out. “Miss Catrina.”
I slide from the bed and snag my slacks from the bathroom floor. Yanking them on, I then storm over to her. “For God’s sake, woman, what’s the matter?”
She sobs harder, so I grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. Finally, her eyes open and she regards me with a heartbroken stare.
“He’s gone.”
I blink in confusion. “Who’s gone?”
“Mr. Crenshaw. When I brought him his breakfast in bed after you retired to your room, I discovered he’d passed sometime in the middle of the night. I’ve put off telling you long enough. He’s dead.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuuuuuuck.