Beneath Your Beautiful, page 28
“You were just wondering why the hell you touched me,” I state.
His gaze narrows as it drills down into my soul. “You’re right.”
My breath stutters in my chest. I’m so stupid. “Let me go.”
“No, Honor, you are right—because now that I’ve touched you, I can’t let you go.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Now let me draw a bath without you descending into a crazy mess of rejection.” He releases my hands, grabs the corner of the comforter, and wraps me up in it. He leaves the bedroom and the sound of rushing water follows. I stare at the ceiling and watch as a spider creeps into the corner of the room, another witness to a pivotal moment in my life. I’m starting to think they are the keepers of history, guardians of the truth.
Fox reappears and scoops me up in his arms, still wrapped in the comforter. “I can walk,” I state.
He arches a brow. “Then I haven’t done my job well enough. Don’t worry, we can keep practicing until I get it right.”
I chuckle as he sets me down on the tiled floor. Candlelight flickers in the darkened room, and my heart stutters when he slowly peels the comforter from my naked body. His fingers twine with mine as he urges me into the steamy bath, and I hiss at the sting of the hot water.
Fox climbs in behind me and settles me with my back to his chest. He grabs a sponge and starts washing me down. My eyes flutter closed. Damn, that feels good.
“Where have you been all my life?” he mutters, almost to himself.
“Becoming the woman brave enough to give you everything you deserve.”
It’s too soon to feel love, right? The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I force them back. Even if I do feel it, I have no room in my future for a man with whiskey eyes and a huge heart. The monster on my trail won’t hesitate to devour anything good in my life.
He nuzzles my shoulder before scraping his teeth along the sensitive flesh. “I can hear you thinking hard. You gave me a month, and I’ve had a week,” he utters. “Run from me, Honor, I fucking dare you.”
CHAPTER 39
HONOR
I’m an addict for your touch.
Ishoot up in bed and blink into the room full of shadows. I’m slightly disoriented from last night, and as I gaze at the empty space next to me, I have to wonder if I dreamt it all. My hand grazes my swollen lips, the ones he couldn’t stop kissing. I squeeze my thighs, finding them a little achy. No, it definitely happened. I had a steamy night of sex with Fox Alderidge—my boss’ grandson. I must be insane.
I launch myself out of bed and cast a glance at the clock. I’m an hour late. So, not only am I fraternizing with my employer’s family, I’m also slacking in my duties. I race through a quick shower, tie my hair up into a messy bun, and grab a pair of jeans and a plain forest green T-shirt. My feet get smushed into my blue Crocs, and then I’m out of the pool house and heading to the main kitchen with a tumble of excuses and apologies prepared in my head. I stumble when I find Helen sitting at the breakfast bar with an empty plate and cup in front of her.
She raises a brow at me. “Fox said you were unwell.” Now that seems like a sensible excuse, much more believable than Sorry, I slept in. The aliens abducted me last night, and I needed a little more shut-eye because I got probed.
“I’m feeling better now,” I squeak as I hurry to clear away her dishes. If I wasn’t already aware of just how late I am, the banging coming from upstairs from Samuel’s team would have clued me in.
“He left you breakfast in the refrigerator.”
I open the door and find a small platter of fruit, yogurt, and granola. Ugh, this man. “Do you want another cup of tea?”
“Sure, make yourself one too and come and sit with me.” Great. An Alderidge-style inquisition—exactly what every girl needs to start their week.
I top her cup up and arrange my own breakfast before dropping into my seat and tucking into the food. I’m actually ravenous, for the first time in longer than I can remember.
“Now I get it,” Helen says.
I glance at her. “Get what?”
“The need for the contacts. I thought it was overkill. Who would be recognisable from just their eyes? Blue, brown, green, they’re all very common.”
I swallow the chunk of mango as panic seizes my lungs. I’m stupid—so very, very stupid. Fox is going to get me caught.
“But those mismatched blue and gray eyes are both stunning and memorable. So now I get it.”
I push my half-eaten breakfast away and turn to look at Helen, who’s wearing a soft smile. “Fox and I…”
She pats my knee. “No need to explain, Cleo. I know my grandson, and I like to think I’ve gotten to know you. Fox doesn’t let anyone in. He was orphaned at a young age, and while I have always strove to be there for him, and he knows logically that his parents death wasn’t abandonment, no one can stop those feelings as a child and how they shape their relationships later on. He’s opened up to you, and even if you are still planning on passing through, I am eternally grateful that you managed to pull down his walls and show him not everyone is out to hurt him.”
“But if I leave, won’t I abandon him also?”
“That’s for you and him to work out. He knows your intentions—he’s in this with his eyes wide open. You will do what you have to do to stay safe. Just know that he’s strong, smart, and a protector. He will defend you with his dying breath.” She rises from her stool and sweeps out of the room.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whisper to the empty kitchen.
I find Fox and Duke in the garage. My van has disappeared, leaving a nice big space for Fox to do his workout. I saunter in and am greeted by Duke with an aggressive lick to my hand. Fox is skipping, and I don’t mean hopscotch. I mean shirtless, gray sweatpants, hot and focused movement as he swings a rope fast enough to cause a stir in the air. His muscles bunch and tense as he powers through the jumps. He’s got a baseball cap on backwards, and his short beard is a little longer today, like it’s due for a trim.
“Morning,” he says with a grin. Damn, he’s not even out of breath. The stamina of this man is unreal.
I take a seat on a creaky wooden stool in the corner and sip my tea. “Good morning. Thank you for my breakfast.”
“Did you eat it all?”
I shake my head. “No, I forgot my contacts and Helen noticed.”
“She won’t tell anyone.”
“I know, but I can’t afford to make mistakes. There’s too much at stake.”
“Hmm.”
I raise a brow. “Hmm? That’s all you’ve got for me?”
He grins. “No, I have so much more for you, but I need to finish my workout first.”
I roll my eyes. “Skipping is hardly a workout.”
He stops, and I almost kick myself for spoiling my own enjoyment. “Come here.”
I shake my head and lean back against the wall. “Oh, no. Please continue.”
“Honor, get your ass over here. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He doesn’t think I can skip? Idiot man. I place my cup on the floor and move to stand in front of him. He goes to hand me the handles. I shake my head. “You set the pace.”
“Tandem skipping? Sure you can keep up?”
“Only one way to find out.”
He starts slow, allowing me to find my rhythm. Then he speeds up, our chests brushing against each other. A bubble of laughter escapes my mouth as he sets a punishing speed. He halts the rope and stares at me with heat banked in his gaze.
“What?” I ask a little breathless.
“That’s your real laugh?”
“I guess.”
He backs me against the side of his car. “I want to hear it again.”
“It’s not real if it’s done on command.”
He sucks in a deep breath. “Trust me?”
I drag my bottom lip between my teeth. “Okay.”
He runs his hands down my arms and urges them behind my back. His mouth captures mine as he winds the skipping rope around my wrists. My heart skips a beat. Not out of fear, but excitement. There’s a massive difference in intention between Gideon and Fox. Gideon was always making moves to manipulate and control. The domination was for his pleasure, while everything Fox does is for mine. I know he would halt everything he’s doing with one word—no matter what state we are in.
He opens the car door, yanks on the rope, then slams the door shut, trapping me against the car. He smirks down at me. “Now to find the bits that make you laugh.”
“What?” Laugh? That’s not where I thought this was going.
He peels the T-shirt up and tilts his head like he’s trying to decide something. “Can you handle being blindfolded?”
“So long as you talk to me, yes.”
He raises the bunched material and settles it across my eyes, drowning me in darkness. “What’s the important rule, Honor?”
“If I say stop, you will without question.”
“Good girl.”
His fingers skim my ribs, and my breathing stutters. Being robbed of my sight is heightening everything else. His lips blaze a path between my breasts before moving down and licking around my belly button, making me giggle as he unbuttons my jeans and peels them down my legs. A sound of frustration escapes me as he leaves them trapped around my ankles. He kisses along the edge of my panties until he gets to my hip bone, then scrapes his teeth over the hollow. I squirm and throw my head back, laughing as he finds my most ticklish spot.
“Fox, please.”
“I have to say, I rather enjoy it when you beg me, firecracker. I guess you gave me what I wanted, so I can return the favor.” He pushes my thighs apart and skims his fingers between my legs over my panties. I suck in a breath. “Are you sore?” he asks.
“A little.”
“I’ll be gentle.” He pushes his head between my thighs, his beard grazing the soft skin as he runs his tongue over the silk covering me. He groans. “You are already soaked. I can taste you through your panties.”
I toe off my Crocs, and he helps me out of my jeans and underwear. Then he buries his tongue inside me with no build up, and I am right on the edge of an orgasm in seconds. He hums as I clench around his tongue. He tears his head away and opens the car door, releasing me before picking me up and dropping me on the hood of his car. He presses me back and bound as I am, I’m helpless to do anything but submit to his demands.
He drags his heated cock through my wetness before pushing inside me, feeding me one tortuous inch at a time. I can feel each piercing gliding inside of me, and it drives me insane. I hiss as he stretches me wide. I am sore from last night, but this pain makes me feel alive.
“You feel me, firecracker?”
“Yes,” I pant. “But I need it harder.”
“Patience.”
“Is overrated.”
He chuckles as he hooks my knees in his arms and continues to enter me. There’s a point where he meets a little resistance. He withdraws, making me whimper, then slams inside and steals my breath. I arch my spine to absorb the impact as he buries himself balls deep in my body.
“Fox, I need…” I cut off as I have no clue what I need, but it’s something.
“I know.” I’m glad one of us does. “Hold tight, Honor.” To what? My arms are bound, and he has me pinned open like a butterfly. I clench around him, holding him in the only place I can. “Fuck,” he snarls. He sets a punishing rhythm, and pain blends into pleasure as he works my body into a frenzy.
“I’m going to come,” I say hoarsely.
The T-shirt gets dragged over my head, revealing this god of a man before me, intent on filling my world with pleasure.
“Eyes on me, Honor.”
I focus on his face. His jaw tics as he withholds his own release, waiting for mine. His thumb flicks over my clit as he swivels his hips, grinding a piercing in a place that makes my entire body taut. The bands snap, and I scream his name, dragging him over with me.
He growls my name as he grips my thighs and keeps himself buried deep in my body. “I think I’m addicted to you,” he mutters as he collapses over me and kisses me softly. It’s like he’s in a trance and doesn’t know what he’s saying, but the truth in his words can’t be refuted. The problem is, I feel the same way. It would be so easy to lose myself in this man. His phone breaks the heavy silence, and he reluctantly drags himself away from my body and undoes the rope binding my wrists. He kisses the slight indentation on the sensitive skin before grabbing his phone from his pocket.
“I have to take this,” he says as an apology before tapping the screen. “Larry, what’s wrong?” Fucking Larry. Who is this man that commands Fox’s time? I vow to find out. “Today? Can it wait?” His eyes find mine.
He nods as his eyes narrow on me as I redress. You answered the phone, I’m not hanging around naked for you to kiss and cuddle. He grabs my wrist as I slide off the hood of his car. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s unbreakable.
“Fine, I’ll be there by tonight.” He disconnects the call. “Where are you going?” he asks.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”
He rubs his temple and the weight of the world seems to be pressing down on his shoulders. “I have shit I need to explain to you, but I need to deal with something back in the city first.”
“Why not just tell me now?”
He drops a kiss on my forehead. “Because I don’t want you to run.” Then he strides out of the garage like he hasn’t just alluded to something huge.
Fucking men.
CHAPTER 40
FOX
Sometimes, the evidence is right under your nose.
The yellow cab pulls up in front of the NYPD’s First Precinct, stopping alongside a row of police cars. After paying and tipping the driver, I step out and stare up at the three-story gray stone building. The timing is shit, but this couldn’t be done from home. Leaving Honor when I’ve just brought down her walls is stupid, as it gives her time to erect them again, and that’s not acceptable. I’m hoping to be back in her arms before breakfast, but it depends on how long it takes the detective to ask his ridiculous follow-up questions.
Larry meets me inside and shakes my hand with a grim smile before we’re led through to an interrogation room. He takes a seat next to me, and Detective Greene, a portly man with a receding hairline, comes into the room a moment later with a stack of files and sits across from us. As he goes over information we already know, I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t believe I’m guilty. My eyes narrow as I contemplate what is driving his accusations against me.
He removes a set of photos from one of the files and spreads them across the metal table between us. I tilt my head and pull one of them toward me. In it is the woman I protected for months. Deep purple bruising lines her throat, consistent with having been choked. Scratches line her inner thighs, while bite marks cover her breasts. It’s interesting that this is the first time I’m seeing these.
I point at the one of her breasts. “We could deal with this very quickly. Take an imprint of my teeth and match them.”
“That would be difficult, since the victim has healed. We would only have pictures to compare.”
Larry glares at Detective Greene. “Your forensics can make an educated opinion, though.”
This is why I feel there’s another driving force behind this whole situation. Gillian, the victim, took photos of her injuries, only to sit on them for months before reporting the rape. Why? Usually, the lack of forensic evidence would work in my favor, as it would be her word against mine. Instead, it seems to be working against me.
Unfortunately for Gillian, she picked a night I wasn’t on duty. I was in bed with a woman, just not her. But here’s where my lack of care regarding lovers’ identities comes back to kick me in the ass—she’s my alibi, and I can’t find her.
“The DA is going for the throat on this,” the detective says. “He wants to set an example, to make it known that sexual violence isn’t welcome in his city.”
The fucking DA. I’ve seen him at events where I was working. He’s a charming egotistical fucker, and everyone laps up his warrior of justice act. But I can sense the dark evil burning in his soul.
“No, he wants to lead a high profile case to further his agenda of becoming the state’s Attorney General.”
“I couldn’t possibly speculate on the DA’s career aspirations. But since you’re unable to locate your alibi, I suggest you prove where you weren’t.”
Yeah buddy, we are already on that. I have a little respect for him, since he knows the whole thing is bullshit and is dancing around pointing us in the right direction.
“Take the imprint of his teeth, Ted. I want the comparison document by tomorrow,” Larry snaps.
It seems Ted and Larry are old friends, or maybe rivals. Larry is the best defense lawyer in the state, but he is known to only take cases where he genuinely believes in the innocence of the accused, and because of that, he has a really high win ratio. However, the DA holds a similar track record, so pitting these two against each other in the courtroom ensures fireworks. Our game plan is to get enough evidence together to get the case thrown out of court before my name gets dragged through the tabloids.
Whatever happened to Gillian, whoever did that to her, deserves to never see the light of day again. But pointing the finger at me, knowing it’s not the truth, is a low blow. Especially since I’ve spent my entire adult life defending the innocent and protecting people. It’s crippling.
Someone raps against the door and a short woman with dark bobbed hair enters. She nods at us. “You wanted a teeth imprint, Detective?”
So he’d already made the decision to take this evidence. He jerks his head at me. “Mr. Alderidge, please.”
The forensic lady makes quick work of gathering the evidence, and before we know it, the interview is over and we’re back outside.
