Craving HIM

  His mood hadn’t improved over the weekend, so chances were the worry inside me was adding to the headache. It could have been the rain, too. It was coming down in sheets outside the bedroom window.

  A long hot shower helped the headache, but I still felt off.

  I’d already finished up the antibiotics for my ear infection and the last thing I wanted was to go see the doctor again. It was probably just a bug, but I was practically dragging as I headed out of the bedroom.

  Dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, I made my way downstairs and shambled into the kitchen. The smell of coffee was like a drug and I smiled my gratitude at the sight of Francisco, standing there with a cup waiting for me.

  “Nobody makes coffee like you do. Gracias.”

  Cisco grinned at me. “Hey, I’m Italian. It should be gratzi.”

  I made a face at him and took a sip of the steaming brew as I leaned against the counter.

  He crouched back down in front of the counter, his eyes on my face. “You’re not looking like you feel well, Aleena.” He put away a few more things and then rose to face me again.

  A couple bags of groceries still remained on the counter and I told myself I should help. I usually did. But I didn’t have the energy today. Cisco was Dominic’s personal chef and he took care of all the grocery shopping as well as meal prep and weekly menus.

  He also like to fuss over me. Said I reminded him of his younger sister.

  “I’m fine.” Listless, I shrugged and looked outside. “Like I said, I’m just tired. The rain isn’t helping.”

  “Sit.” He pointed at the island. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

  I didn’t bother arguing. I was starving. Maybe I just needed something to eat.

  It didn’t take him long and after just a few minutes, I was digging into a ham and cheese omelette.

  “Do you have any requests for this week?” Cisco asked, washing up the dishes he’d used.

  “Chicken and dumplings.” It popped out of my mouth without me even realizing I wanted it. It sounded really good.

  Cisco gave me an odd look. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Huffing out a little breath, I polished off the omelette and reached for my coffee.

  He let it go and we spent the next little bit going over the weekly menu, which included chicken and dumplings. That done, I grabbed some water and saluted him before locking myself in my office.

  It was just me, the rain and my laptop now.

  ***

  I lost track of time. It’s easy to do when you’re juggling multiple projects. The phone rang, startling me and making me aware of three things simultaneously. My neck was stiff, I had to pee like crazy, and the rain had stopped.

  The phone rang again as I rose. It could go to the machine.

  I needed to use the restroom and get some food.

  Stretching my arms overhead, I tuned out the automated greeting from the machine, the usual words inviting the caller to leave a message. The caller did just that and the sound of his voice had me freezing.

  Practically leaping for the desk, I started to grab the phone, but thought better of it. I hit the button to record and it caught him mid-sentence.

  “Remember,” he was saying. “You only got a couple days if you don’t want all your dirty little secrets to go viral, and I mean in a big way.”

  He recited a number and hung up.

  Shaking, I glared at the phone as though I could reach through it and wring Mitchell Pence's neck.

  Dominic was making himself sick with guilt. This nightmare with the videos was the last thing he needed with everything he was dealing with. The new foundation, his birth mother, JC Woodrow, and of course Jacqueline. She rarely called, but I knew he was talking to her and that was just one more thing for him to have to deal with.

  The flashing number on the machine was hypnotic and I replayed the message over and over again in my head.

  “I’ve had enough of this shit.”

  I saved the message to the hard drive and then cleared it from the machine.

  Dominic was doing enough.

  Pence was a piece of shit and a coward. I’d dealt with worse. It was time for me to do things.

  ***

  The bodega Mitchell had me meet him at wasn’t even a hole in the wall. More like a dent. It also completely and utterly lacked charm, personality...cleanliness.

  He sat at his table and gestured toward the counter. “Grab a cup.”

  “I’ll pass.” I felt better than I had earlier, but I wasn’t about to risk botulism or anything else that could be lurking in this filthy place. There was still coffee stains and rings from previous matrons on the tables and food on the floor. I wondered if a call to the health department would be a good idea. “Couldn't you have found a Starbucks or something?”

  I settled on the edge of the chair and looked around one more time. Other than the sullen man behind the counter, Pence and I were the only ones there.

  “No. I was looking for someplace quiet where we could chat.” He glanced past me and I watched as he nodded to the man behind the counter. My skin started to crawl and the guy turned and disappeared through a door.

  Trepidation trip down my spine when Mitchell moved to the door and flipped the sign from open to closed.

  He gave me a tight smile when he saw the expression on my face. “Like I said, privacy.” His gaze zeroed in on my purse. “You know, unless you’ve got money stashed on you somewhere and—and I’d be happy to check—something tells me you’re not here to make the payment.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then we’re done.” Pence reached for his cup and drained it.

  “Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes and pretended to study my nails. “You really want to take off without hearing what I have to say?”

  I looked up when he sat back down.

  “You think you’ve got Dominic and me hanging over a barrel.” Slipping my hand into my purse, I pulled out a file and placed it on the table. “You don’t. We’ve got plenty of dirt on you too.” I flipped open the file and watched as his eyes dropped to the list of names I'd compiled. “Any of them familiar?”

  “Sure.” He rubbed at his chin. “But I don’t kiss and tell, sugar.” He licked his lips, glancing around before he leaned far too close.

  I didn't flinch. He was a snake, but I was in control.

  “You know what? It’s possible I could give Dominic a few more days, if we came to some...arrangement.”

  “Spare me.” I tapped the list again. “They all filed complaints. I’ve been speaking with them. Collectively, they're talking about going public.”

  It was an abbreviated list of the women from the agency where he’d once worked. Every last woman on that piece of paper, eight in all, had complained about him. The reports were noted, then hushed, and eventually all of the women had left. All but Miriam. She was my ace, but I didn't want to involve her if I didn't have to.

  “Really? This is what you have?” He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You need to learn how to play hardball. I have videos of you and Dominic. Him beating you while you beg for more. Him fucking your ass and cunt. Which do you think is more fucked up?”

  “You,” I said honestly. “Because you’re trying to take something that was happening between consenting adults, two people who love each other, and trying to turn it into something disgusting. And then you have the nerve to ask for money to keep it quiet?”

  “Hey, hey, hey…” He held up his hands. “It’s more like an agreement between friends.”

  “My ass.”

  “It’s a nice one, sugar.” He looked at my mouth again. “I’ve got to say, I can’t tell which thing I’m more envious about when it comes to you two. The way he gets to shove his dick down your throat or how he rams it up your ass.”

  Heat flooded my face. “You’re sick.”

  “I’m not the one who begs for it.” Pence shrugged and flipped the folder closed. As he pushed it back,
he said, “You’ve got two days to get my two million or half the world can watch as he fucks your ass and spanks you.”

  He stood and I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. He was halfway across the floor when I hit play.

  “You’ve got two days to get my two million or half the world can watch as he fucks your ass and spanks you.”

  He froze.

  As I rose, I put the phone back into my pocket. He started toward me and I held my ground, lifting my chin. “It simultaneously uploads to my cloud storage.”

  “Then you’re going to give me the phone and your password to the cloud.” He grabbed my arm, but I twisted away.

  I’d been ready for his anger.

  I thought.

  He trailed me around the small, cramped bodega as I circled around towards the door. Vincent was in the car, waiting for me and probably watching the door, but the rain had started up again, obscuring almost everything.

  “Give me the fucking phone!”

  “Bite me,” I snapped.

  He swung out and I dodged, grabbing an umbrella somebody had left near the door. Pence laughed when he saw it my hand but as I wound up like a player at bat, he swore.

  He came at me low and hard and I couldn’t get away in time.

  Pinned between him and the small bit of space by the door, he grabbed my wrists and wrenched them overhead. “This is what you like, right, bitch?”

  He sneered as he transferred both wrists to one hand and then reached down. He stuck his hand in my empty pocket, using the excuse to grope me through my jeans. I struggled against him, but couldn't get free.

  “You know, I think I see the appeal.” His breath was hot as he lowered his head to kiss me.

  “Let me go, you bastard.” I turned my head away, trying to use my legs to push against him. His hips were firmly lodged against mine though and every time I moved, I could feel his cock getting harder.

  The asshole was getting turned on.

  “Maybe if you give me a little something, baby, I can forget you tried to fuck with me.”

  This time, when he tried to kiss me, I let him. And when he shoved his tongue into my mouth, I bit down so hard I tasted blood.

  He jerked back and I rammed a knee into his crotch. As he crumbled, I darted away, but he caught my ankle and I fell to the floor, pain shooting through my knees. He crawled on top of me and the panic was thick in my throat. Thick and hot and tight and I couldn’t breathe.

  “Now…that’s more like it,” he said, grunting as he wrestled me down.

  I screamed.

  The blinding pain that exploded as he backhanded me dulled my senses momentarily.

  “Be quiet,” he snarled. He cupped my breast and squeezed. “Now listen to me, you fucking bitch—”

  The doors burst open and, through the blinding sunlight, I saw Vincent rushing in. Pence didn’t move fast enough and the taller, heavier man ended up doubled over again, thanks to Vincent’s fist trying to find his spine via his gut.

  Vincent hit him again and blood splattered as Mitchell's nose broke.

  It was the sight of the blood that did me in. Blood hadn’t ever really bothered me before, but as I sat there, staring at drops of blood plopping on the ground, I felt gorge rising in my throat.

  I barely managed to shove myself to my knees before I started to puke.

  ***

  Vincent pressed the ice pack to my face. “Be still,” he said kindly.

  “I'm okay.” Anything else I might've said died in my throat as the bedroom door slammed open.

  Dominic stood there and the expression on his face was terrible. He jerked his head at Vincent and my driver left in silence, pausing only long enough to turn the ice pack over to Dominic.

  He took it, but moments—ugly, tense moments—passed before he started toward me. His free hand clenched into a fist but as I watched, he slowly loosed it and sat down beside me.

  “How did Pence find you?” he asked tightly.

  “He…” I winced as Dominic pressed the ice to my cheek. “He didn’t.”

  I’d been dreading this, but I couldn’t lie. Not to him.

  At some point during my confession, Dominic got up and stormed over to the window.

  “I have the phone,” I said, my voice hitching when he turned back to me. “It’s proof. Sort of.”

  A disbelieving sound escaped him and I flinched when he exploded.

  “Proof? Dammit, Aleena, do you think that means anything when I look at you like that?”

  Tears burned my eyes and I looked away. “It was stupid, I know.” I whispered. “Please don’t—”

  “Don’t what?” He swore and spun back away. I watched him slammed his fist into the window.

  My stomach started to churn again and a knot settled in my throat, huge and hard, trying to choke me.

  “Don’t what, Aleena?” he asked harshly. “Don’t stand here and think about what he could've done to you? He could have raped you or put you in the hospital or both! I fucking told you I’d handle this! I told you I’d take care of you.”

  Swallowing, I curled up into a ball, turning my face away. I hiccupped, trying to stop the sobs that had been building over the past hour. But I couldn’t. After everything that had happened, I couldn't stop the tears. I'd wanted to take care of him and I'd fucked it all up, and now he was angry with me.

  The bed gave and when Dominic touched my hair, I collapsed and pressed my face into his thigh. He just sat there, stroking my hair as I cried. He didn't say a word, didn't do anything other than run his hand over my hair.

  When I was calm again, he sat me up and brushed my hair back, angling my face so he could see the bruise. I wanted to say something, but the look in his eyes stopped me. I'd never seen his eyes so cold, not when he looked at me.

  He handed me the ice pack. “Keep the ice on it.” His voice was stiff, strangely formal.

  I pressed the ice to my cheek and closed my eyes. I couldn't bear to have him look at me like that. I felt the bed shift as he stood, but I didn’t open my eyes.

  Not until I heard the front door close.

  Dominic had left.

  He'd left me.

  Chapter 17

  Dominic

  Rain plastered my clothes to my body, dripping off me as I left the elevator. I’d gone out to walk, hoping to clear my head, hoping to get my rage under control, that the rain might cool me off.

  It hadn’t worked.

  I was furious.

  Pence had put his hands on her.

  And Aleena…

  Shaking my head, I went inside and looked around. Everything was quiet. There was no dinner cooking and only one light came from the upper level. I didn't really care about the meal. I wasn't hungry.

  She hadn’t trusted me to handle this.

  Hadn’t trusted me to take care of her.

  It was a punch straight to the chest.

  I found her in bed where I'd left her. She was huddled under the covers, her face away from the door. The ice pack lay on the floor and I picked it up. It was warm. I must've been gone longer than I'd realized.

  I hadn’t meant to just leave her alone like that, but I couldn’t have touched her earlier. I wanted to throw and break things. I wanted to tie her up and punish her, but not for her. For me. I wanted to use her to release this tension, and I knew I would hurt her if I did. I couldn’t let myself be near her until I had that under control.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I waited for her to look at me.

  Her lip was trembling when she finally rolled over to face me. I leaned toward her, drawn in by that vulnerable curve.

  “I’m—”

  I pressed my finger to her lips. “Don’t.”

  If she started talking, I wasn't sure I could do this. I was barely holding on as it was.

  I needed to see everything. With her eyes on me, I slid my hand down and started to unbutton the black shirt she wore. I eased the shirt off and then reached for her bra. When I s
aw the bruise on the top of her breast, the anger inside me tried to rise to the surface again. I removed it and saw the rest of the marks his fingers had made on her breast. The knot in my stomach tightened as I moved to her pants.

  I needed to see every mark, and he’d pay for each one.

  There were bruises on her wrists, darker and uglier than anything I’d ever put on her. The thought of marking her now sickened me and the realization did something to me. I was still angry, still hurt, but seeing her like this took away any desire I had to punish her. I lifted each wrist and pressed my lips against the marks he'd left. I kissed the bruise on her breast and moved down to her knees. They were reddened and raw from where she'd fallen. I kissed those tender areas too and then stood up.

  I needed her. I needed the solace I could only find inside her. She stared at me as I stripped out of my clothes and when I came back to her, she lay quiescent under me.

  “Dominic—”

  I shook my head again and pushed her thighs apart. I couldn't bear to hear her now. I needed to be inside her. My cock was hard, aching with need and I reached down, held myself steady.

  She arched up as I drove into her, a wail piercing the silence. She wasn’t wet enough, wasn't stretched. The friction was almost painful, but I rose up onto my knees, grabbing her hips and pulling her towards me until I was buried deep inside.

  “Are you mine?” I demanded.

  She whimpered and reached for me, but I pulled back and shook my head. Her fingers grasped the comforter beneath us and she clenched it tight. The broken trust between us was sharp and I needed to know that I still had her.

  “Are you mine?” I demanded again, punctuating my question with a hard thrust.

  “Yes,” she whispered, staring up at me with wide eyes.

  She was wetter now, wrapped hot and tight and snug around me and I wanted to brand every inch of her, wanted to make it so that she never forgot that she belonged to me.

  I fucked her hard, almost brutally. Forcing one climax after another from her, I focused on her eyes, on the silken drag of her wet pussy against my cock, on the moans and cries I forced from her with each stroke.