“I’m leaving Ben. I have a long day ahead of me.”

“A long day? Do you have any idea how long the night was without you next to me? And the waking hours were almost worse because I didn’t know if you’d deign to grace me with your presence again.”

My instinct was to whirl around and give him a piece of my mind. But I figured that was exactly what he expected from me. No. I could do cold civility.

He braced both his hands on the door on either side of my head, and I didn’t have to squeeze my thighs together to know that my panties were soaked.

I bit back a whimper and clenched my thighs together as a tingle of awareness made me clench.

No. No. No. 

He did not get to turn my life upside down, keep things from me, and then be mad that I’d kept something from him.

Yes, he does. You said you wanted honest and simple.

Okay fine, he did have a right to be pissed. But being pissed while making me want him against my will, that was low. With fury making me clench my jaw tight, I angled my head so my gaze could meet his. The prison of his muscles kept me from escape. I frantically fought the pull of need.

A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead, and his brows were locked in the down and furious position. His lips slightly parted as if in anticipation, but it was his eyes, as always, that got me. Equal parts fury and desire, his gaze was a war zone of all the shoulds and shouldn’ts running through his mind.

Ben leaned forward as he caged me between his body and the door. His chest rumbled with a groan just before he leaned closer and buried his face in the crook of my neck.

With a shuddering sigh, I angled my neck to give him better access. What was it about his touch that made me so desperate for more? My skin was practically on fire. I’d only been gone a day, but it felt like he hadn’t touched me in a century.

“Do you have any idea how much I have worried about you?” he rasped against my throat in between hot kisses to my bared skin. He began kissing his way up my jawline until he buried his hand in my hair and turned me toward him so he could cover my mouth with his.

I didn’t fight it, just melted beneath him and allowed him to direct how I moved. My thighs opened of their own accord, and he moved right in between them like he belonged there. When he settled against me, everything inside of me woke up and flared to life. Nothing else mattered but this.

I could fool myself that I’d come back to keep the drive from falling into the wrong hands or that I needed his protection, but there was no denying that a part of me had come back because I couldn’t stay away. Everything inside me wanted to be where Ben was. Always. I’d known it in Paris. There was no denying it anymore.

“What are you doing?” I choked out when his hands went to the button on my wide-leg trousers. I’d worn them deliberately because they made my ass look fantastic. That’s right, I was a tease and I couldn’t find a fuck to give about that fact.

I gasped again when he practically ripped the zipper off while tugging it down.

So… This was happening.

Pussy: 1

Brain: 0

“Reminding you.” Ben yanked off his vest and tugged at the buttons on his shirt before he ripped it off.

“Of what?” I croaked out.

I gasped as his hand slipped inside my trousers and between my legs, the heat of his fingers branding me as they lit me on fire.

With the first glide of his fingers, I bit back a harsh moan. He knew what he was doing. I’d be damned if I’d give him the satisfaction of letting him know how desperate I was for his touch.

But I was the one being played… like the most delicate of violins played by a master. The harsh groan that tore out from me felt inevitable as those talented fingers parted my slick folds and found my clit with startling accuracy. I ached for him to fill me. To remind me of his stupid nickname. When he dipped his fingers inside my velvet sheath, I automatically clamped around him, my aching flesh feeling too empty.

“Of who you belong to. Who this belongs to.” Ben kissed me again, our tongues tangling wildly as we each fought to take control. There was something about Ben that made everything feminine and soft inside me wake up and melt under his hands.

I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but every single time we kissed, I turned into a puddle of hormones.

Is that all this is? Are we pretending Paris didn’t happen?

This time was no exception. Within seconds, I was whimpering and canting my hips, trying to get more of his deft fingers. Trying to rock against him, desperate for what I knew he could give me.

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• 

Present Day

Darkness wrapped her arms around me like a lover I’d grown tired of. Too heavy, too cloying. If I’d had my pick of hiding places, I wouldn’t have chosen a freaking closet.

But beggars and choosers and all that.

Only a sliver of light underneath the door made my coffin seem like less of a permanent void. My heart kicked inside my chest, each beat like a punch against my ribs.

But it wasn’t fear.

Oh no. It was something deeper. Darker. More worrisome.

And it felt a hell of a lot like excitement.

The heat of the man who held his hand pressed over my mouth completely enveloped me, wrapping itself around me, not like the stifling shroud of a wet blanket but more like the safe cocoon of a weighted one.

I should have been terrified. Screw getting caught. I needed to kick, and scream, and raise hell because I could very well die in this closet.

No, you won’t.

Okay, maybe not, but it sure as hell felt that way. That was what I got for literally running away from a party. But in my defense, I was escaping Fenton Mills, my boyfriend’s boss. That man had far too many hands and had consumed far too many gin and tonics to care who saw him try to grab my ass.

If I was in the mood to be honest, I’d have to admit the crowd had started to get to me too. Dexter had promised to stay by my side, knowing how crowds made me crazy, but true to form, he’d gotten caught up talking to someone, had some scotch, and left me alone like a sitting duck.

So I’d gone looking for a little reprieve. A moment to breathe. Somewhere to hide. The office door was open, and then I’d leaned against the stupid statue, a ceramic of what looked like bodies intertwined. How was I supposed to know how fragile the damn thing was? I’d been startled by a noise and bumped the stupid thing and had to scramble to catch it.

I’d grabbed onto what looked like a handle just in time. Problem was, when I righted the statue…the handle came off in my hand. Only it wasn’t a handle at all. It was a dick. I had statue dick in my hands. Statue Dick.

As if that hadn’t been enough cause for panic, the noise I’d heard only drew closer with footsteps outside the door. Cold, clammy sweat popped on my skin, and I had to make a literal fight-or-flight, game-time decision. There was no fighting in my party shoes, so I’d chosen to flee. But I couldn’t very well go out the door I’d come through because then I’d have been caught, so I hid in the closet, in the dark. And I’d been prepared to stay there for however long I needed to. 

I didn’t have to wait long. After minutes, the door opened and light spilled in, practically blinding me and giving me only a one-second glimpse at what I was certain would mean a trip to jail when a man so broad that he blocked out the direct light put me in darkness again. 

He was well over six feet. His blond hair was a little too long. And his ice blue eyes pierced directly into my soul, freezing me where I stood and sending heat licking over my skin. I caught just enough of a jaw so square that it would make Henry Cavill jealous before he stepped into the shoebox-size closet that was definitely too small for one of us, let alone two. 

His broad shoulders took up far too much room and made it difficult to breathe. Our bodies pressed up against each other, and the heat of him chased away the chill of my fear. But my thundering, tripping, skipping heartbeat stayed. My breath became shallow and thin. Probably because he was hogging all the damn oxygen.

I should have been afraid, but it was excitement that made my belly do flips and injected that hint of euphoria that lied to me and told me I could fly.

“What do you think—” I didn’t get to finish my statement because the Viking god in Armani placed his damn hand over my mouth and leaned ever so close. A wash of heat spread over my body as I molded against him because, quite frankly, I had nowhere else to go. I was hot and flushed and worried, but somehow, not scared.

“Be still.” The gruff, grumbly growl sent a spike of heat through me. But I did as I was told. I could hear movement in the office beyond. I didn’t want to be caught. The more I moved, the more noise I made. And the last thing I needed was evidence of the broken sculpture to be found. Evidence I still held in my hand. 

So, I was stuck like that, pressed up against a total stranger with a chest broad enough to obscure me from view and tall enough to tower over me. Christ, he was big.

The voices and footsteps drew closer outside.

I held my breath. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I couldn’t be caught in here. No way in hell could I explain any of this. There was no easy way to say, “Hey, sorry I broke your priceless statue’s dick as I was running away from your party.” So I was stuck. In a closet, in the dark. With a guy who could only be described as a Viking in a tux.

And was that his very large erection pressing against my belly? I swallowed hard. Oh yes, that was also most certainly his hand on my ass. I opened my mouth to bite his hand, and he admonished me with a whispered, “Shut up. Neither one of us wants to get caught, love.”

He had a point there. But his hand flexed on my ass, and I was not okay with it.

Except… Somewhere deep down inside, my inner libido was absolutely fine with it. It had been six long months since I’d had sex, boyfriend notwithstanding, and I was craving a man’s touch. But it was still wrong. The Viking wasn’t Dexter. I needed to get the hell out of there.

But there was one slight problem; whoever was in the office wasn’t going away, so I was stuck there with one of the Viking’s hands on my ass and the other on my mouth, and I was too afraid to breathe.

“You need to moan. You had better be a damn good actress.”

He couldn’t see me, but I still furrowed my brow before I opened my mouth to protest. Then suddenly, he lifted his hand off my mouth, but he didn’t release me. Instead, he slid that hand into my hair, angling his head so his face was in the crook of my neck. “You’re going to have to moan now.”

“What the—”

His mouth on my neck sent a spike of pure need that tugged low in my belly, and the moan that followed was completely involuntary. It felt good. Too good. His lips trailed along my collar bone. His teeth nipped my skin. I wanted to argue. To fight. To tell him to get his hands the hell off me because I had a boyfriend. But I was distracted by his mouth and the hand in my hair tugging it to the side, making a mess of what had taken me hours to artfully straighten and arrange.

But still the footsteps and voices grew closer, and the Viking whispered again. “Fake it till you make it, princess. Make me believe you.”

His hand tightened on my ass, squeezing and pulling me flush against him. The hard length of his erection was like steel against my belly. 

He throbbed against me, and before I could wiggle away, the door cracked open and light streamed in like a ray of sunshine. I finally understood what he was doing. 

This was for show. This was our way out. Our way to keep from being caught. We had to fake this and fake it well.

I moaned loud enough to be heard. The door opened a little wider, and I ducked my head into his neck too. My breathing was ragged as he ravaged my neck. Later, when I came to my senses, I would tell myself I hadn’t rocked against his erection.

All I heard then was a chuckle from someone, and muffled words as the door closed again and any hint of light was gone.

The Viking Adonis should have released me then, but he trailed his nose up the column of my throat again until he hit the shell of my ear, and then his lips whispered, “Very well done, princess.”

He released me suddenly. But his jacket caught on my pin as he shoved open the door, and I squeaked. “No, no, no.” But I heard the soft ping as my pin hit the floor, and the sound made tears well in my eyes. “Shit.”

“Are you okay?” His voice was brusque, distracted.

I fell to the ground, trying to find it. “No, I am not okay. You broke my p—”

He tapped his ear as he gave me a hard look. “I’m really sorry. But I’ve got to go.” And then he was gone, leaving me completely alone with my mother’s broken pin in the palm of my hand. I wobbled in place, unable to get a sense of my bearings as tears welled in my eyes

What the hell had just happened? 

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Four Years Ago…

Pussy came easy. But then, for me, most things came easy. 

As I slid a glance over the lithe, naked back of the blonde in front of me and locked my teeth, I wished some things came easier than others. It didn't matter how much my balls ached or how much sweat dripped off my brow, there’d be no relief for me, no matter how many times I had her. 

As she moaned, writhed, and shouted things that were dirty enough to make any porn star blush, I fought to stay focused. She was a means to an end. Unfortunately for me, that end wasn’t pleasure. It was more like revenge. She had information I needed. And she, like half the women in London, was susceptible to the Chase charm.

She screamed through her orgasm, and I just wanted it to be over. A means to an end. She was Alistair’s wife. Screwing her was one more domino on my way to taking down the man I hated.

My brain did me the favor of replaying the night over and over and over again. Every decision I’d made. Every step that had led me there. How well she’d sucked my cock on the way to Notting Hill. The slide of her tongue over the length of me as I spun my Huayra over the rain-slicked streets of London. The feel of her pussy milking my cock. Her brazen offer for me to have her any way I wanted.

But I had zero desire to come. And no amount of fucking this nearly nameless, faceless blonde would solve that. After it was over, I’d barely remember her. Hell, I could barely remember her name as it was. Georgina? Jemima? Julia? Something J-sounding. Bugger, I really did have to get better with names. But I would remember whose wife she was.

I pulled away from her, and she made a half-hearted, feeble attempt to reach for me. Who was she kidding? That was orgasm number four for her. She’d be out cold in seconds.

I slid the satin sheet over her naked form and sat on the edge of the bed. My dick twitched as if to remind me of how I got into this mess in the first place. I scrubbed a hand down my face. I sat there for several minutes until her deep, even breathing alerted me to her slumber. Right. Time to go to work. I tugged on my boxer briefs and slipped into the living room where she’d dropped her bag. 

I made sure I kept an eye on the bedroom door as I booted up her laptop. Thanks to one tequila too many and my very skilled hands working their magic under her panties, she’d told me everything I needed to know to take a decent stab at her password. I got it on the third try. Cat’s name. I didn't bother to roll my eyes.

When I was done copying all the files to my external hard drive, I shut down her computer and slid it back into her bag before silently stalking back into the bedroom. She was still knocked out, but the sheet had shifted slightly, exposing her bare arse. Fuck. Maybe I should have taken her up on her offer to fuck her however I wanted. 

I scowled at my straining erection. My cock begged me to go back to bed. To give it another go in the hopes that this time would be different. That she would be different. But I knew better. What was the definition of insanity again? No point in going back to it, mate, it won’t do any good.

There was only one way to relieve the gnawing, clawing hunger. But knowing the solution didn’t mean I wanted to go through with it. Get in the shower. Release the tension. Then call the cleaning crew to deal with the unwanted guest. Most importantly, I had to ignore that niggling thought at the back of my skull. That tiny voice telling me the kind of man I was. Telling me that inside, I was beyond buggered. Truly fucked up and there’d be no respite for me. This was my personal hell. 

I didn't bother to tiptoe into the spacious bathroom because I knew she wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. I avoided the mirror and stepped into the shower, blasting on the hot water and letting the piercing pellets from multiple sprays scorch my skin. In a long-practiced move, I reached for the shower gel, using just enough to coat my hands, then I stroked myself. 

A harsh groan tore from my throat on contact. So, bleeding good. I focused on the memories of the woman in my bed. The gentle, yet suggestive smile as she’d brushed up against me. That was always my favorite part. The possibility of something great.

Of course, it was never great. At that point, I doubted I’d know an epic shag if it came up and bit me on the arse. But I kept repeating the same patterns over and over again. What was the definition of insanity again?

It didn’t help that, thanks to the Chase name, the royal connections, and my face, woman after woman happily climbed into my bed.

But the end result was always the same. I was dead inside. My balls ached as I stroked myself, my palm smoothing over the flared tip. I hissed in a pleasurable pain at the friction. So… on edge… almost… Just needed…

My release hit me with the force of a tank, and I shook violently as stream after stream of come shot out of me. I clamped my jaw tight, unwilling to cry out with my release.

As soon as it was over, I did what I always did and turned the water as cold as I could stand it. Then I let my body slide down to the tiled bench seat as the self-loathing seeped into my pores.

There had to be a better way. I would only survive so much more before I became irrevocably broken. Maybe it was already too late for that.

* * * 

Xander…

My heart thundered with each step, and I fought to control my labored breathing. The more I pushed, the more everything burned. My lungs, my chest, the muscles in my thighs, my overly taut calf muscles. In contrast next to me, my brother seemed completely unbothered as we pushed the pace of our run.

With the spirit of competition riding me, but more the need to outrun my demons, I pushed harder, forcing my legs to move faster. Next to me, Lex matched my pace but his breathing hitched, and I smirked. The way I saw it, we both had some demons to outrun. 

Despite my hoodie, the chill of the morning settled into my bones. Or maybe that was still the slithering stench of self-loathing. I’d left the J-blonde in my bed. If she was still there, the cleaning crew would arrive soon enough to help her along her way. And even if she tried to wait for me, she’d soon realize I wasn’t coming back. Not anytime soon anyway. I didn’t live there.

That flat was strictly for sex and for women I had no intention of ever seeing again. There was no way I was bringing anybody to where I actually lived. I didn’t need this feeling permeating into my real life. It’s already here. Separation of fucking and life was important to me, and never the twain shall meet. 

I had far too much riding on my goals. It was time I got serious. I couldn't afford to get distracted. At least that’s what I told myself as I forced my legs to keep going.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman bundled against the chill of the morning pushing a baby pram while she jogged. Her chocolaty complexion reminded me of the one woman I shouldn’t want and couldn’t have. Instinctively I turned to get a better look.

That brief break in concentration tripped me up. Literally. I went arse over teakettle on the grassy trail, forcing Lex to jump out of the way.

Through labored breathing, my brother leaned down and offered a hand. “All right, Xan?”

I glared up at the hand offered and scowled. I wanted to take it, I really did, but I'd punished my body and the prone position was feeling far too comfortable at the moment. I didn’t stand. “Fine.”

Lex dropped smoothly to his side in the dewy grass. “Glad to hear it. Now maybe you can tell me why we're running like we’re in Olympic training.”

What's the matter, my pace too fast for you?” I deflected immediately. Lex was too adept at seeing through me. We'd been through too much together.

“I kept up, didn't I?” With a sigh, Lex tried a different tactic. “What’s really going on with you?”

“Sorry. My mind's just on the purchase of Trident Media stock. I need everything to go right. It’s got me edgy.”

Lex nodded and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I understand. Though, if it’s causing this level of stress, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”

I watched my brother from the corner of my eye. There was no mistaking we were brothers from our tall, lean frames to our facial features, our coloring, and our silvery-gray eyes. Only Lex’s hair was inky and dark, while I still sported the dirty-blond hair I'd had as a child. But some days our personalities were so far on opposite ends of the scale I wondered how we could be brothers. “Didn't we already cover this territory?” For months, since I had told him the plan, Lex had tried to talk me out of it. “You don't think that fucking twat deserves to pay for what he did?”

“Of course I do. You know what happened on those stairs that night. But this plan of yours, it’s eating at you, Xan. Corroding you from the inside. You’ve been edgy and snappish, even to Abbie, who you normally think walks on water.”

I winced at the mention of her name. Abbie Nartey shouldn’t have meant anything to me, considering she was my brother’s girlfriend. But from the moment she’d become my student, I’d had a soft spot for her. Make that a very hard—never mind. She was the reason my brother smiled again. And she was my student. I’d put aside the feelings I had for her a long time ago. Mostly.

“I’m not exactly the warm, soothing, agony aunt. She knew that about me when she took the job.” And normally, she gave as good as she got. But Lex was right. Even I knew my mood swings were a special kind of toxic.

“This is what I want, Lex. I need to do this. Then I can walk away. Start fresh. I can't let him walk around like he owes us nothing. He could have stopped the abuse at any time, but he didn’t. He could have told someone, but he didn’t. And he could have admitted the truth, but he didn't.” What I didn't say out loud to my brother was the secret shame I carried. He didn't have to hold me down for his father, but he did.

No. We’d continue with the plan. Alistair McMahon’s company, Trident Media Group had been financially backsliding for some time, and they’d been selling off chunks of stock to recoup their losses. Stock Lex and I had been purchasing through various companies. For now, we were holding on to it, but when all our ducks were lined up in a row, the two of us would have enough shares to dismantle Trident brick by bloody brick. And thanks to the information from J-girl’s laptop, I might have something big enough to destroy him for good. “I have the information we talked about.”

Lex shook his head. “Do I even want to know how you got it?”

“Nope.”

“Xan, this is a dangerous game.”

“Go on with the stock purchase. I’ve got Garett working on the data. If there’s anything on her computer we can use, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, I’ll work on phase two.”

Phase two was more difficult. Alistair McMahon sat on the board of London’s Artistic Trust. I had to get myself on that board in order to topple all of my dominos for a more effective blow. But getting on the board was easier said than done.

My brother studied me as if he could divine the truth out of me, then eventually sighed. “Okay. Do you want to continue this grueling pace, or have you had enough?”

I pushed myself to a standing position. “We can take it easy heading back.”

Lex smirked and bounced up next to me. I wanted to curse my brother's energy. My legs felt like lead weights. That’s what happens when you try to outrun demons. “Who said I needed to take it easy?”

“Of course, you don’t.”

I tried to stand, but I groaned instead. “On second thought, I still have some kinks to work out.”

“I’m proposing to Abbie.” It was blurted out in a rush, and Lex flushed red as he said it.

For several long moments, I couldn't compute the pain that radiated through my chest or the words that caused the piercing headache in my skull. But slowly, the words started to piece together. Propose. Abbie.

hat was it. In that moment, I knew what I had to do. I'd shut the door ages ago on anything ever happening with Abbie, but a piece of me hadn’t let her go. Though it was less about her and more about what she represented. But she was all Lex's now.

The guilt was quickly overshadowed by joy. I might be in excruciating, radiating pain, but Lex looked happy. The kind of happy that people could only experience when they had nothing holding them back.

I let that joy from my brother fill me and drown out the guilt and the remnants of pain. Pulling my brother to me, I hugged Lex hard. While I embraced him, I blinked away the stinging in my eyes. I could be happy for him. If anyone deserved that kind of happiness, it was my brother. And Abbie of course. Especially since Jean Claude had threatened to kill them both. I could have lost them. This, this was far better.

There was no point in feeling any loss for myself. It wasn’t my moment. “Mate, I'm so happy for you.” Lex hugged me back, and we stood there in the middle of the park embracing each other. When we pulled back, we both ignored each other's misty gazes.

Fuck, why couldn’t I rid myself of the impending tears? “Good for you. Now you tell Nick that he may be your best mate and all, but I’m the one standing next to you on the big day.” 

Lex used his t-shirt to wipe his face. “Well, let's get her to say yes first, shall we?” 

“Let's face it, she's nutters about you. She’ll say yes.” And somehow, I'd have to figure out how to deal with that.

My brother licked his lips. “You’re okay, though?”

“I’m bloody brilliant. I’m about to get a sister.”

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