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“I never knew you were so domestic. Pink is undoubtedly your color.” I lean against the doorframe and smirk. “You always know what to say to make a man swoon.”
It takes me a second too long to realize I’m flirting with her. Fuck. Flirting with Juliet Parker? I shouldn’t be entertaining the idea—and trust me, my mind wanted to entertain the idea numerous times over the past couple of years.
The Ravage name is basically cursed, and Juliet is perfection personified. I’d drawn the line years ago. As tempting as she was—and she was always fucking tempting—I could never have her. She would never want me.
Juliet is nothing if not practical, driven, and focused.
Still, despite the fact that I shouldn’t go there with Parker, I’m intrigued. The possessive beast I attempt to hide from almost everyone is roaring to claim her.
Long, light brown hair. It’s so fucking shiny it looks like polished brass. Pale skin, pink lips, and big, green eyes. She’s small but not petite, and her body is… fuck, what I’d give to kiss her. Just once.
Does she realize how fucking tempting she is? Always—not just tonight. I’ve held Juliet Parker on a pedestal for years.
I never learned how to be gentle. I never learned how to love. She wanted to know why I never dated? Because I didn’t know how. Sure, I could fuck like an animal. I knew how to bed a woman—knew all the ways to make them scream. But love? No fucking idea. And Parker deserved to lose her virginity to someone she loved—and someone who could love her back.
Jackson Parker is a goddamn breathing, walking bleeding heart. A hopeless romantic, he’s the only person I know who enjoys working overtime for tiny, little dictators. As a preschool theater teacher at Saint Helena Academy, Crestwood’s only private school, he spends all of his time shaping impressionable minds. Truth be told, the kids are damn lucky to have him.
You should be with someone who will treat you like a seven-course meal.
I still remembered the way my dad looked at my mom. He was the raindrop, and she was the flood. She overtook every single aspect of his life. But that was rare.
I had to get through dinner, watching as some other man touched her for all the world to see. As some other man kissed her. It turned me into something ugly and jealous. I know I didn’t deserve to feel like I had any claim to her, but I did. I always would.
Is it possible for people to become more attractive as they age? Is Chase Ravage selling his soul like Ariel sold her voice to Ursula? Because fuck, the way he looks should be illegal.
Everything in my life has been touched by him. Chase was there for us in more ways than I could ever imagine at the time. And I suppose he still is.
But for some damn reason, I want her to admit her farce. And not just because I don’t tolerate lying. Juliet is not my submissive. But because I want to be right. About why she pulled me aside tonight. About why she cares so damn much. I hate myself for it, but I want her to want me.
Nothing—and I mean nothing—can penetrate the hard shell I’ve created for myself. Except Parker.
Of course I know she’s obsessed with Hugh Jackman as Wolverine. I know she likes to read. I know she likes black roses because they remind her of her mom, and mood lighting. Everything about this fucking party is for her. I was around her everyday for nearly a decade. She thinks she’s changed since she was a teenager, but she hasn’t. Not really. I can still read her like a fucking book.
“Because it reminds me of who you are. Because it reminds me that your brother is my best friend. It’s a constant reminder of who you are to him. And I can’t lose him, because he’s the only person who sees me for who I am, and not for the bloodline I was born into. Calling you Parker keeps me grounded. It keeps me from doing something utterly stupid.”
She may think I hurt her all of those years ago. She may even tell herself that I hurt her tonight by refusing her—again. But I don’t think she understands that she has the capacity to ruin me. That maybe she already has.
“There was never a question of if I wanted to be your Dom, Parker, but rather if you could handle it.” I swallow as my whole body heats at his words. “So, you’ll do it?” His nostrils flare. “Yes. Since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs. “Are you sure? I don’t mind finding someone else—” “You’re mine,” he growls.
Miles has always been a meddler—always scheming and planning. Despite being the quiet one, he likes to stir shit up, but only if that shit has nothing to do with him. He is the epitome of the meme of the little girl smirking while the area behind her is on fire. It’s what makes him an amazing CEO of Ravage Consulting Firm. He’s always observing, always digesting the world in a way that keeps him separate from it.
Fucking Miles. He’s like a serious, grumpy version of Lady Whistledown.
She hasn’t broken down any of my walls. She was already inside.
“Do you really not understand?” he asks. The way he asks is not mean, or cruel, or condescending. It’s more… disbelieving. “What do I get, Parker?” He steps closer. “I get you.”
I want him to find me. I want him to unleash himself. I want to be caught. Three… Two… One.
And Parker? She’s the ultimate chase. My endgame. This is the hunt I’ve been waiting my entire life for.
“Do you know how hard it is not to feast on your cunt right now, Parker? I’ve been waiting years to taste you.”
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he grits out. “Don’t you think I know what you need to get you off? Tell me, are you worried about coming now, Juliet? Because the way your pussy is squeezing my fingers, I’d think you were”—he flicks my clit hard—“Almost there.”
She fucking wants this. She wants me. And I want her so fucking much that it hurts.
He’s fighting it—the predator and my friend are clashing. It occurs to me that perhaps I’ve always been something more to him. Growing up. The engagement party. All of it. This is everything for me, but maybe it is for him, too.
“Such a good fucking girl,” he growls. “Taking my cock so well. Tell me,” he adds, his voice rough. “How long?”
And that trust? It clicks right into place, more airtight than before. Unbreakable. Like he’s always been the one inside of me.
“How long I’ve been dreaming of sinking into your pretty, little pussy. How long I’ve wanted to mark you with my cum. Watch as it spills out of you. Knowing you were mine.”
“Do you know how fucking long I’ve been waiting to see my cum drip out of your tight, pink, overly-fucked cunt?”
“I think I knew I was ruined. You ruined me for anyone else,” she says softly. “The second you pushed me against that desk, I knew I would stop at nothing to get you.”
And while she might be happy about it, I know she’s in a dangerous place now. I hoard the things I cherish—my job, my brothers, Jax… and now her. I know myself well enough to know that I won’t ever—can’t ever—let her go.
Ravage means to consume… but Juliet has consumed me.
“Who?” he growls. “Who is bringing you this pleasure? Me, or God?”
“I’m not a fool, nor is this a casual fling. I meant it when I said you were mine.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be dragging my date into the bathroom and making her scream so loud that she forgets every other man who’s ever been inside of her.”
He looks so much like Chase—except where Chase is soft, where his lips are round and plush, Miles is all cut angles and a long, sharp nose. Still handsome, but in a more ruthless way. Where Chase is fire, Miles is ice.
“I love this house,” he murmurs, leaning against the counter. I lean against the small island and narrow my eyes. “You do?” “Yeah. This feels more like home than the castle ever did for me.”
“So I suppose it’s the same with you. You’re Jackson, and I always noticed how you were attracted to men. I’m observant. But of course, I didn’t want to say anything, and it didn’t matter to me.” Jackson nods once. “So you… it’s not weird that I’m…” he trails off, flustered. “Jackson,” I say firmly, trying to reiterate my point. “First of all, thank you for telling me. I love you. I support you. Whenever you’re ready to talk more about it, I will be here to listen. You’re my best friend. Nothing will ever change that.”
I begin to fiddle with my ring, adjusting myself in my seat when I think of the very same letter as a purple bruise on the inside of Juliet’s thigh. Fuck. I was branding her as mine before I realized—or could admit—the extent of my feelings.
Now that I’ve had her, there was no fucking way I’d ever let her go. Why I thought a taste would be enough is beyond me.
“Juliet isn’t like other women—” Miles laughs. “Trust me. I know. You’ve been unintentionally hoarding her away for years like a greedy reptile. And I don’t even think you realize you’re doing it.”
Someone to treat her like a goddamn seven-course meal: check. Someone who will love her with every cell in their body: check. Someone willing to live in her house until the day she decided to sell it: check. I’d live in that goddamn house for the rest of my life if it meant I could wake up with her next to me.
“Yeah. His heart is encased in stone, and he loves to push people away, but if you get inside, if you’re lucky enough to crack it open, it’s molten lava.”
Parker, I thought this list might help determine your next move, since you love data so much. If you wish to proceed, please go to your favorite coffee shop. Pros: great sex, he’s already best friends with your brother (yes, still), rich as fuck, knows your favorite color, flower, TV show, food, and smell, willing to grovel (but please don’t mention this to anyone), will attempt to tame the jealousy, will always think you’re the loveliest person I’ve ever fucking met, seven-course breakfasts every morning ;), but seriously, what do I have to do? Tell me, and it’s done. Cons: mediocre sex,
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“Miles jokes that I’m a dragon guarding his golden hoard when it comes to you, and I’m now realizing how much I’ve always wanted to keep you for myself.”
