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I need to fuck the brat out of her more than I need air.
She steps back, bracing her hands on the counter behind her. “Yes, sir.” Fuck me. Her eyes trail down to the unmistakable growing bulge in my pants before slowly returning to mine with a she-devil smile. “Maybe next time, you should bring a leash.” She tilts her head and bats those thick black lashes in a bashful ruse. “We can see who belongs on it more.” Jesus Christ. She’ll be the death of me.
Fuck. Now, all I can think about is buying her a collar to match her ring.
Cash lingers far too long for my liking—precisely the reason I want her occupied with a book. Ty, Liam, and Gage all stiffen beside me at the sight, protective armor in place. That’s why they’re her guards.
“Not with her,” Liam hisses. “Off-limits.” “As off-limits as Rena.” Gage adds the lethal shot with his arms crossed over his puffed chest, jaw pulsing. “She’s marrying Wells.”
“No.” Ty chuckles. “She’s content. She won’t be paying us any attention.” “She’s trustworthy as well,” I add. “But Ty is correct. We no longer exist to her.”
Ivy is our critical focus now.
“He’s right. We do,” Ryker concedes. “Being separated from Mercy has been more hellish than expected. I don’t know what she means to you”—he jerks his head toward Ivy—“but maybe you can imagine the agony of not being there for her worst moments.” Ty and I trade a knowing look. We’ve had Ivy in our daily sights for nearly five years. Even from afar, she’s been a constant. Regardless of our mission, a certain level of comfort and attachment accompanies that for us all. The loss alone would be devastating. Add in the trauma Mercy has endured, and Ryker’s reaction is well controlled.
“I’d love that.” She smiles, genuinely pleased with the idea. “I am in desperate need of some girl time myself.” Giggling, she peers at Ty, Liam, Gage, and me, as though we’ve been exhausting her. Right back at ya, Little Storm.
“Where’s the Little Storm?”
Fucking gorgeous. “Jesus Christ,” Liam spits out at the same time Ty breathes, “Goddamn. Great side boob.” I’m going to end up killing the both of them. “The fuck? Thought she was like a sister, Tytan?”
“More like a stepsister,” he drawls, never taking his eyes off her. “Which means admiring is completely acceptable.” “No, it’s not,” I hiss. “She’s. Off. Limits. Even in your thoughts. Got it?” “Thought she was a business deal, Chief, a means to an end?” Liam jabs, squaring his shoulders to me while Ty chuckles. “Still true, but still mine.” I eye them both. “Don’t push it.”
“Oh, no,” Gage balks. “After two hours, bored as hell, I yanked her earbud out and asked what she was reading—an attempt to show interest and prove I’m not always a dick. She licked her lips slowly and told me she was reading some book about a big, tatted muscleman who has sex with the girl he’s guarding in public. When my mouth fell open, speechless, she hummed, forehead pinched in thought, and added that the girl slits his throat.” The three of us erupt into laughter. She can certainly strike unexpectedly—I’ll give her that.
Gage huffs, clearly annoyed by us finding humor in her game. “I ripped the book from her, pissed off, and read the synopsis on the back to find out it’s about some fucked-up stepsibling romance. Who the hell reads that shit?” Liam smacks Ty on the back, who’s howling, which garners a peeved groan from me. None of which slows Gage down.
“Bring it. Whatever you throw at me, Wells, I’ll shove it right back at ya. And you’ll hate yourself for how much you love it.” Intuitively accurate.
This girl holds more power over me than I’d like, which needs to be fixed, but fuck if that sass of hers doesn’t undo me.
“Look at that. You talk like a brat, but you jumped right up to do as I ordered. Good girl, Ivy. You’ll do just fine.” She clamps her lips and muffles a whimper. Jesus, I want to claim her. Show her who owns her. Watch her drop to her knees, beg for my cock, and wrap those smart, pouty lips around it.
My little obsession.
Like a storm cloud. It feels … personal. A constant reminder that Wells calls me Little Storm. A name my whole body responds to.
Because all I can think about is how I want to be his Little Storm more than I’ve ever wanted anything. His.
It’s obvious I irritate him, but he definitely wants me. To fuck me. Tame me. Own me.
But the better find was that at five thirty, the guys worked out. I’m guessing it’s a daily routine and my new incentive for rising prior to the sun. So. Much. Sweat. Swimming. Running. All the ups—push, pull, sit. And that’s merely what I could see—the obstacle course was out of view. Every one of those men is magnificent. Strong and chiseled—next-level athletes. But Wells … Dear God, I didn’t know what sexy was before. I mean, he kills it in a suit, and my upbringing gave me that as a measure of a man—the suit, the fit, the money and power. But as devastating as Gavin Wells is in his
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Ty shoots me a sideways glance, picking up on the stormy reference. I shake my head subtly to tell him not to explain my reasoning to anyone, and when he nods, I know he understands. If Wells catches on, I won’t deny it, but I’m not going to broadcast it either.
Something about Ty feels like an old friend. We slipped into that so easily. It’s odd how the guys have all molded to me so quickly.
But out of all the guys, Ty is the one who puts me most at ease. “So, so beautiful, Freckles,” he rasps, voice husky. Rena studies him. “Wow, that’s really sweet, Ty. It’s how I imagine my brothers will react if I ever trick anyone into marrying me.”
and hopes—blurs into a hurricane of loss. Little Storm. Ty pulls me into his chest, wrapping me in a warm hug with a comfort I shouldn’t gather from a week-long friend, while I sob from the ache, from the fear. “You’ll be okay, Freckles. It’ll all be okay.” His tone sounds unsure, nervous, which is reasonable. He can’t possibly guarantee a happily ever after.
“I am here solely in support of Ivy.” Shouldering me, he tacks on, “Your secrets are safe with me, Freckles.”
Yellow-tinged book pages are strung everywhere by bright green vines with various shades of pink roses across the brick of the building. The whole garden area is aglow with hanging candles and tiny off-white lights, casting the whole space in an intimate honey hue. On a round table, draped in white cloth, is the cake—not a traditional wedding cake, a stacked-book cake with an icing ribbon and classic titles on the spines. A huge white fireplace looms in the center, trimmed with candles, vines, and quotes from so many famous authors. And in the middle of the mantel, there’s a red rose, encased
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“You’re a goddamn vision, Ivanna Kingston. Radiant.” His voice is so thick with emotion that my knees nearly buckle. “There’s never been a more stunning bride.” Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
“That was an invitation, Mr. Wells.” His eyes light, voracious excitement swirling inside them. Here in the candlelight with my unlikely groom, I realize, this path may be off, but I’ve always loved twisted fairy tales. Gavin Wells might not be the hero of my story, but he may be my dark knight.
My Little Storm.
“So beautiful, Little Storm.”
For her.
If I’m going to give in to my cravings, I want to do it with a clear head. My fingers rake into her silky hair while I tether our gazes. “A glass of champagne to celebrate, but then I need to tend to an important phone call.” “Oh, tonight?” Her disappointment chimes, sending a pang of guilt through me. This isn’t me. It can’t be. “Yes. Tonight. It can’t wait.” She accepts my flat answer without another word, but I see our magical moment fade into the night, and already, I want it back.
“If she is to take her place, your marriage will not protect her any greater. It would be an act of war to touch her either way.” He pauses before adding, “And she won’t be absolved of testing.” “All true. But it helps. I can be certain she won’t fall into anyone else’s hands. And after fighting for her position, it’s in our best interest to ensure she succeeds in obtaining it. She’ll also be doubly protected if she refuses it.” I
“You’re showing weakness,” he scorns. “Cabrinis don’t show weakness.” He may have helped me fight for her role, but the marriage blindsided him. It’s a simple matter of changing his perspective. I need to convince him this union furthers his plans. “I beg to differ, Grandfather. To be married to one of the most powerful women in the world, I’m showing my dominance. The Cabrini influence will be stretched to a second seat now.” The truth of that hits a chord, singing to his autocratic spirit. His timbre softens in spite of the threat he delivers. “She’ll be loyalty tested now too.”
Im fuckibg scared what the fu k is going to happen
“The seat is yours. I’ll be in touch.”
“Two to three months to prepare her. She’ll be loyalty tested due to the marriage, as expected, in addition to the rest.”
“None,” Ty and I respond in unison, but I grant him the space to expound. “She gives what’s given to her. She’ll be fine in that respect. It’s the acceptance of who she is that may be the issue.”
So, just one. One too many, but manageable. It’s not the guy she bit. He never got that far and didn’t live to touch anyone else. Fucking rapist. My feisty girl was a force he hadn’t been prepared to go up against.
“For someone who … don’t know … I’ve never had anyone make me feel both safe and excited, except some mystery guy in a mask.”
“I know today wasn’t everything you wanted. I tried with the quotes and the cake, but … I lost sight. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Married to me or not, even in our care, Ivanna Kingston is the most wanted woman in the world.
HUH
I’m not the man who gets fucked up from a girl. Except I am. I’ve been changing the damn rules ever since I laid eyes on her nearly five years ago. And I knew it then.
Three weeks—twenty-one days of learning her schedule, her every move, her mannerisms. She’s easy to watch. I’ve also been desperately trying to find out who else is after this almost-eighteen-year-old and why.
“I’ll get right to it, Dr. Kingston. I’m here regarding your daughter.” He sips his scotch with a subtle nod. “I see. Go on.” “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there are various people searching for her.” “I’m aware,” he says, giving nothing else away.
“My wife and I wanted Ivanna to have the most normal upbringing possible. Running and looking over her shoulder was not the answer. It seems your mother may know something about that.”
“Your family and the reason my daughter is being hunted are linked. I think we may be able to help each other out.”
“Suit yourself,” he says, “but my daughter will be erased from existence before our meeting concludes, so the way I see it, we work together, trust each other, or we both lose.” His eyes aren’t smug with that statement; they hold something more like disappointment—the smallest glimpse of the world he’s been desperately trying to spin. I reach for my phone, thinking I should check on our surveillance, but Dr. Kingston raises his hand. “There’s nothing to see, son. She’s already gone. You work with me, and she returns.”
“Your crew is far superior to the one I’ve had guarding Ivanna. The incompetent morons didn’t even detect you until last week. I’m guessing you’ve been around quite a bit longer.” His jaw tenses with disdain. “I don’t want to uproot her, so I’ll need to strengthen her security. I’d like you to stay close by and keep her hidden.”
