“Your boy’s a freak, Mar,” Riley said with exasperation.

  He whispered something deliciously dirty in my ear, and my breath hitched in excitement. “Uh, Riles, I’m not up for watching a movie. I’ve got a terrible migraine coming on. I…” Cash’s hands tightened on my hips. “I think Cash is going to take me back to the hotel and let me sleep this off.”

  Hands on her hips, Riley glared at me for a long moment. “That’s your story?”

  “And I’m one hundred percent sticking to it.”

  The glare turned into a grin. “Fine. Lucky for you, these people are cool, and I like hanging out with them.”

  “Thanks, Riles. I’ll make it up to you. Promise. Mean it.” I kissed her cheek, but Cash didn’t let me stay away for long. Entwining our fingers, he pulled me toward the cab that had just pulled up in front of the main building.

  Six guys jumped out, laughing and horseplaying. Cash said something to the driver, who nodded. Still holding my hand, he waited until I was seated in the back of the van before following after me. With a smaller bench seat between us and the driver, Cash didn’t bother keeping his hands to himself.

  The realization that we wouldn’t be together tomorrow made my heart ache, and my body was practically begging for everything he had to offer it. He touched me everywhere except where my hurt was the deepest, teasing me with the one thing I craved the most until I was making little mewling sounds in desperation.

  The driver cleared his throat loudly, making us realize we were outside Cash’s hotel. Tossing a fifty at the driver, Cash pulled me out of the cab, and we ran for the elevators. Laughing with excitement and a joy I couldn’t remember feeling—ever—I pushed the call button. As the doors opened, letting out several guests, we rushed forward and punched the right floor before anyone else could join us.

  We were already tearing at our clothes before the door to his room was even closed. Shoes hit the wall as we kicked them off. My shirt and bra went flying, followed by my shorts and panties. Cash was already down to his boxer briefs, and the sight of the way his cock was tenting the material made my mouth water. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I pushed my hand into his boxers and wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft.

  “Dreamer,” he groaned as I touched my tongue to his glistening tip. “Fuck, baby.”

  Grinning wickedly, I ran my tongue from the head down his shaft to his balls and back up before taking him into my mouth. His tip hit the back of my throat, and it took me a moment to find a pace that allowed me to breathe through my nose. His knees locked, his breaths coming in strangled pants, and I started twisting my wrist, jacking him and sucking him off at the same time. He grew thicker in my mouth, and I knew he was close.

  “No fucking way,” he growled, lifting me up and tossing me onto the bed. Sheathing his cock in a condom, he spread my legs and pushed into me like a man possessed. “When I come, it’s going to be with your pussy wrapped around me.”

  As I moaned my encouragement, he thrust into me like our lives depended on it. The bed shook from how rough he was being, my nails slicing into his sides in encouragement to fuck me harder.

  “Cash,” I whimpered, right on the precipice of coming hard. “Please.”

  His hips slowed down, but his thrusts began going deeper. Reaching between us, he skimmed his thumb over my clit, making me blind from the pleasure. “Come for me, Amara. Let me feel how much your pussy wants me.”

  “Cash!” I screamed, falling over into the ecstasy of a release so hard, I nearly passed out.

  When I could open my eyes again, Cash was motionless over me, his eyes eating up every expression that crossed my face. I smiled almost shyly up at him. “Hi.”

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” He rolled onto his back, taking me with him. He was still hard, still deep inside me, but he seemed in no hurry to find the release I’d just experienced. It had been the same the night before, and when he’d finally come, it had been so powerful for him he’d shaken in my arms.

  I liked that he was all about my pleasure, making sure I got there repeatedly before giving in to his own. But I wanted him to be a little selfish too. This wasn’t just about me. I wanted him to feel everything I was feeling—and more.

  I propped my head up on my arms as he stroked his hands down my back. “Are you always such a considerate lover?” Damn it. Even to my own ears, I sounded jealous. I wasn’t the type of girl to get all territorial and catty. Especially this early in. Yet, the thought of Cash sharing this with others stung.

  His chest shook with a laugh. “Is that what I’m being?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  He shrugged, making his chest lift for a moment. “Maybe I’m just really selfish. I love feeling how tight your pussy gets when you come around my cock. I want that as many times as I can get it. So I hold myself back until I can’t any longer.” He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled me down to his lips. As he pulled back, he whispered, “And no, Amara. I’m not usually like this. What’s going on with us, it’s uncharted territory for me. Nothing about this is usual for me.” Rolling me onto my back, he pushed his hips down into mine roughly, pinning me to the mattress. “Nothing, baby.”

  --

  Hours later, it was my stomach’s angry growl that pulled me out of Cash’s arms. There was a fast-food place just down the block, so I pulled on my bra and his shirt along with my shorts, grabbed the key, and tiptoed out of the room while he slept deeply.

  Unsure what he would like to eat, I ordered a little of everything. It was late, but there were people everywhere. No one seemed to notice me, though. Going unnoticed was something I had excelled at growing up in my mother’s house.

  Arms loaded with the huge bag of greasy food and our drinks, I unlocked the door and stepped into the room. Cash was sitting up in bed, the covers over his bare waist and his phone to his ear. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Gigi. Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there for dinner.” His eyes lifted to mine, and he mouthed the word “Grandma.”

  Grinning, I set our food on the rumpled bed and kicked off my shoes. Grabbing the fries from the bag, I crammed two in my mouth and settled back in with the TV on mute to find something to watch while he finished his conversation with his grandmother.

  “Gigi, I told you it was all working out. She texted me. No, I didn’t answer because I’m busy with work… This is work. It’s my career… You don’t have to remind me… No, ma’am.” He was gritting his teeth so hard, I could actually hear them grinding together. Sympathy for him had me reaching for his hand, giving it a squeeze. He turned his hand over in mine, entwining our fingers. “Fine. Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner,” he said again and then ended the call.

  “Family problems?” I asked with a lifted brow, not really trying to force him to talk about it, but I knew how families could be. Mine was the biggest pain in the ass in the history of the universe.

  “Gigi just being Gigi,” he grunted. “She has this way of making me feel like I’m about ten years old. She’s got stage 4 lung cancer, and she’s using guilt to keep me in line.”

  “Oh my gosh, Cash. I’m so sorry.”

  His fingers tightened around mine for a moment, then he exhaled deeply and shrugged. “It is what it is. I just never expected her to succumb to something as mundane as cancer.”

  “I get that. They seem like superheroes at times…or in my case, supervillains.” I offered him a fry, munching on a few more of my own. “But still, it’s like you expect them to live forever. Nothing can touch them, not even the threat of death.”

  He was quiet for a long moment, eating his own fries now. I dug through the rest of the bag, offering him one of the burgers and a container of cookies. Halfway through our midnight meal, he caught my hand and kissed my palm. “Thanks, babe.”

  “For feeding you?” I rolled my eyes. “You paid for breakfast earlier. It was totally my turn to treat you. Fifty-fifty, remember?”

  He shook his head. “Not t
hat—but thanks for that too. I meant, thanks for not making me talk about it.”

  I pulled my knees up to my chest. “I would never do that. But just know my ears listen really well if you ever need to talk. I kind of like you, Rockstar.”

  He leaned in close, kissing my lips quick and hard. “I kind of like you too, Dreamer. A lot, actually. And I don’t like that you’re going to be the length of the country away from me for even a few hours.”

  “But we’re going to see each other Monday, right?” I didn’t let him see how excited—and nervous—I was about our date.

  “Depends…” My heart sank, but I didn’t let him see that either. “What time will you be home tomorrow night?”

  I grimaced. “I don’t know. My stepdad has been an ass, so I need to go over there and see what’s going on before he blows a gasket. Depending on how big of a hissy fit he’s having, I might not even make it back to my apartment.”

  “Fuck,” he groaned. “Okay then, what time will you be free Monday? Do you have to work or have you got class?”

  I shook my head, my heart filling with warmth once again. “No. I’m out for the summer right now. My course load makes it impossible to have even a part-time job. So, that means I’m more reliant on my stepdad’s generosity than I would like to be.” Total understatement of the millennium.

  Malcolm had me right where he wanted me, and he relished it. But lately, I’d been wondering what the fuck I was actually doing with my life. I had one more semester before I graduated, but in all honesty, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to complete my degree. I wasn’t happy being beholden to Malcolm or even my mother. I was top of my class in my field of study, but it was so damn boring. I had three different companies head-hunting me already, but I knew I wouldn’t take any of their offers. Mostly because they were all in Malcolm’s pocket in one way or another, and it would be something I was yet again obligated to him for.

  “You and your stepdad don’t get along?”

  I took a huge bite of my own burger, giving myself time to decide what to tell him while I chewed. Taking a drink of my cola, I lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “He doesn’t like me, and I hate him. He pays for my education and my bills, but I’m not really sure how much longer that will last. My heart isn’t in it anymore. I’m bored to tears during the majority of my classes, and all I can think about is getting out from under his thumb, making my own way in life.”

  “You don’t have to answer, but…why do you hate him?” He seemed sincerely interested, but I couldn’t do that to him. I just couldn’t unload all the shit Malcolm had put me through over the years. And if I was being completely honest, I didn’t want to chance him looking at me differently. When most people found out who my stepdad was, they changed right before my eyes. Cash had his own fame, so he knew what it felt like to be in the public eye.

  While I was mostly out of the limelight, a good percent of the world knew who Malcolm McIntire’s stepdaughter was. And they didn’t treat me like a much-loved celebrity. They just assumed his political views—among other things—were my own. Fortunately for me, Lindsey knew exactly where I was coming from since her father was always in the public eye, and many of his constituents were usually pissed at him for one reason or another.

  So, I stuck with what I told everyone who happened to ask why I couldn’t stand my stepfather. “He broke up my parents’ marriage.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” He dropped his arm around my shoulders. “I don’t like my father either. But I don’t have a reason to dislike him other than he’s a huge dick.”

  “I bet they would be BFFs if we ever introduced them.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, probably.” He touched his lips to my temple. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Fuck, but my heart ached hearing those words, and I didn’t even know why. “I’m going to miss you too.”

  Chapter 7

  Amara

  My stomach was in knots as I stood outside the mansion. It was starting to rain, something the SoCal area needed with how hot it had been lately, but I didn’t have a jacket or an umbrella. I was going to be drenched if the housekeeper didn’t answer the door soon.

  Knowing Malcolm, he was probably sitting at his desk, watching me on his security feed, grinning like the evil prick he really was. I lifted my hand, flipping off the camera just as the door opened and Pilar stared at me stoically. The grouchy hag had been working for my stepdad long before my mother had come into his life, and in all the years I’d known her, she had never had another expression on her face. I kind of looked up to her, aspired to have the robotic face down pat. Too bad I’d never succeeded.

  “Miss Amara. They will receive you in the great room,” she informed me in her ever-so-slightly accented voice.

  “Perfect,” I muttered under my breath and walked through the house to the great room.

  I hated this house. With all its priceless pieces of artwork I was screamed at if it even looked like I was going to touch something. But the place was cold and emotionless. Something my bruised and battered heart hadn’t been when I’d first moved in here with my mother at the age of ten. Then it became my worst nightmare, because whatever happened behind the closed doors of this monstrous house stayed here. But I was still unable to hide my emotions like Pilar could.

  As it always did, my stomach dropped as I paused outside the great room where my mother usually received her guests. It was a power thing for her. The room represented everything that was at her fingertips. She was just as dangerous as Malcolm, only she put on a bright smile as she was slicing you down to size.

  The urge to vomit was just below the surface, but I put on my award-winning fake-ass smile and stepped into the room.

  Mother was sitting on one of the sofas that she took better care of than she ever had me. There was a magazine on her lap that she daintily turned the page of after her shrewd eyes scanned the article. Malcolm sat in his usual spot, a high-backed, plush, cushioned chair that would have had the permanent imprint of his ass in it by now if Mother didn’t so meticulously have it tended to. There was a glass of his favorite scotch in his hand, the crystal decanter open and sitting half-empty on the small table beside his chair.

  He wasn’t a run-of-the-mill good-looking man, not by a long shot. But he wasn’t exactly ugly either. His hair was dark, and he had clear blue eyes. His face, like his body, was on the chubby side, but his features were well defined. It was the money and power that he came with, however, that had provided the allurement for my mother. The fact that he liked to hurt me on a regular basis had never even made her lift a brow over the years.

  I gulped and forced my heart to stay at a steady pace. Malcolm would be able to spot my nervousness a mile away, and I couldn’t let him see how scared I really was when he was drinking. His drunk self would exploit my weakness, and I wouldn’t be leaving this house without a few bruises.

  I despised how small and scared this bastard could make me. Hated that he had made me so reliant on his “generosity.” Nothing I owned was actually my own. Not my home, which was exactly what my apartment with my two best friends was. Not the car I drove. Not even my education.

  It made me angry, and I fed off that anger as I stepped farther into the room with my shoulders squared and my head held high. “You wanted to see me?” I asked in my best nonchalant, bored-as-fuck tone.

  Malcolm’s eyes latched on to me, and I kept my hands in my pockets to mask the fact that they were sweaty as hell. I was glad I hadn’t eaten on the plane ride home because the contents of my stomach would have been at my feet by now if anything was in there.

  The sound of his glass thumping onto the side table echoed through the quiet room as he got to his feet. I was thankful he was steady as he marched toward me, intent shining out of his eyes. “Where the fuck have you been?” he snarled.

  “I went to a concert with Riley,” I told him truthfully. There was no point lying about it. One phone call and he could easily find out where I was at any given
time. “What’s all the hysterics for? Lindsey said you have been blowing up our house phone.”

  “You wouldn’t answer your cell. What’s the use in having one if you never fucking answer the goddamn thing?”

  “It died. I forgot my charger, and so did Riley.” I walked around him and sat down beside my mother, casually peeking at the magazine she was browsing. Seeing it was some home and garden crap, I rolled my eyes and focused my gaze back on my stepfather. “So, what did you need to see me so urgently about?”

  He visibly shook himself, as if forcing himself to calm down and not tear into me either verbally, or worse, physically. “Why did you turn down the summer internship for Cal-Pharm?”

  I shrugged. “Because it didn’t interest me.”

  “Call them back and tell them you’ve reconsidered,” he commanded. “This internship could open doors for your career.”

  “No.” I was already quaking internally, but when he turned those hard eyes on me, I had to stiffen my spine to keep from showing it externally. I was scared of him, plain and simple, but I despised my fear.

  “What did you say?”

  I lifted my brows, giving the full appearance of the sassy little bitch I attempted to be whenever I had to deal with him. “I didn’t stutter, Malcolm. I said no. I don’t want the internship. I don’t want to go into pharmaceuticals. It bores me.”

  “It bores you.” He turned his eyes to Mother, who stared back at him dispassionately. “It bores her, Suzanne.”

  “I heard her, dear.”

  “Why do you care if I take the internship or not?” I challenged. “You’ve never cared before when I turned the others down.”

  “Because I need inside eyes on one of their new drugs,” he seethed. “One of my own companies is doing a test study right now, and I need to know how advanced theirs is.”

  “Ah, so you want me to commit some corporate espionage. Yeah, no thanks.” I stood, dusting off my jeans like my mother’s sofa had dirtied my clothes. “If that’s all, I’ll just head home now.”