Page 4

CHAPTER 4

Billie

T wo months ago

It’s our Sunday family dinner, and I have a pleasant buzz going after downing my first drink until Hawke and Ford walk in.

I haven’t seen Ford since that day at Dutton’s house. After Bentley’s birthday party and Dutton proposing to Posie, I’ve tried my hardest to fly under the radar. This is the first time I’ve been home in months, and I didn’t realize my mother had extended the invitation to so many. But it shouldn’t come as a surprise.

It might not be so distracting if Hope and Ivy had come back to Manhattan as well. They’re both busy with their own studies, and Hope is at a showing of her sculptures in Russia. The girl is crushing it for only being twenty-two. I’m almost two years older, and still unsure if the degree I’m going to school for even makes my heart sing.

I didn’t start college until I was twenty because I wasn’t sure it was the correct path for me, so I traveled instead. My family was supportive of my choice, but I realized the expectations placed on Dutton weren’t the same as me. Then again, Dutton defined his own path and self-expectations as to how he’d contribute to the family.

Sometimes I feel guilty for not doing the same, even though our parents reminded us time and time again we could choose whatever path we wanted. And I’m still not entirely sure if accounting is what I want. Sometimes, I think I’d prefer baking, like my mother, since I’m good at it, but even then, I don’t know if it excites me as much as it does her.

“Earth to little tornado.” Hawke snaps his fingers in front of me, and I blink back into focus.

“Did you only come for the food?” I ask him and daringly look over his shoulder at his brother. Fuck, he looks good. He always does. And he still hasn’t looked up from his phone since arriving. But that’s not surprising in the slightest.

Everyone’s already done eating and is now lounging around in conversation. Dutton and Posie are quietly talking to my parents, Alina and Will, about the upcoming wedding. And no offense to my brother, but I don’t want to be a part of any conversation when he turns into a groomzilla, which is how I wound up in the same room as these two.

But we were friends before, so I shake off the imposing tension.

“Don’t I always come for the food?” Hawke says sheepishly. It goes without saying that Ford comes for the sweets.

I’m grateful he hasn’t brought up what he walked in on in Dutton’s kitchen and that he doesn’t act any differently toward me because of it.

“Do either of you want a drink?” I offer and place a tray of cookies down on the table in the middle of one of our living spaces. The deep, comfortable sofas and rich wooden tones make the room warm and inviting. I love my parents’ home. Down the hall is my room—my sanctuary when I’m home from college—which, might I add, no boy has ever entered because of a certain overprotective brother.

Ford immediately kicks off the wall, where he was casually leaning, to make a beeline to the cookies. He finally glances at me, and I feel the air leave my lungs as those almost black eyes take me in. He’s silent as he grabs a cookie off the tray. And then two more before he retakes his spot, holding up the wall and staring at his phone.

He’s always on his phone.

What is he doing on there?

Is he messaging someone?

A phone rings, and Hawke smiles as he looks down at his screen. “If you’ll excuse me, I need your bathroom for a moment.”

I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s been having phone sex with some chick,” Ford says around a cookie.

I stare after Hawke. He really is a manwhore with no shame. I tuck a piece of my long hair behind my ear. Fuck, being in the same room as Ford creates a palpable tension. We never spoke about what happened, and he never replied to my text.

Not that I expected him to.

“You can sit, Chaos. I don’t bite,” he says, still not looking up from his phone.

It irritates me that he won’t even look at me. “I don’t have to worry about you biting when you’re glued to your phone.”

His finger pauses on the screen, and he raises his head. He finishes the cookie and pockets the phone.

Suddenly, my clothes feel too tight. Fuck . I haven’t been touched in so long, and Ford’s gaze alone is always punishing in the way it sees into me. In the memories that flood back to the surface, promising my body pleasure like it’s never known.

“Don’t look at me like that if you don’t expect me to have you crawling to your bedroom so I can spank that tight ass you’ve been swaying all night.”

My jaw drops, and I look away, crossing my arms over my chest. “You seem awfully chatty when you’re talking dirty.”

“I’m only speaking the truth. And I can tell when you’re thinking it, too.”

“How?!” I whisper shout, making sure no one in the other room can hear us. I hear Posie giggle, and I know that more than likely, my brother’s going to drag her into a dark corner. They do that a lot at events—suddenly leave and come back looking like a rumpled mess.

It pisses me off so much how my brother has double standards. He can do it but won’t let me.

“Nothing I’m about to say is sweet. So don’t ask questions you’re not willing to answer for yourself.”

I swallow. Ford’s always been so fucking intense. Even as he leans against the wall next to a blue vase with colorful flowers, he seems to suck it into his orbit like he does with me.

Everything feels hazy as I gravitate toward his provocation like it’s a fucking dare.

I take a step forward.

And then another.

I’m certain everyone still sees me as the baby sister or like a child. But not Ford. He’s the only person who sees me as a woman.

I’m standing in front of him now. “How?” I repeat.

The asshole has the audacity to smirk, and I hate the fact that I ended things between us, but I’m right back where we started. It’s too dangerous. But I can’t fucking help myself.

He tilts his head slightly, more predator than man, as he reaches out and brushes the back of his knuckles against my cheek.

I suck in a sharp breath, and without him so much as doing anything, heat floods my core. It’s so immediate, so forceful in his presence.

It’s entirely unfair.

“From the way your body reacts to me. Your eyes go hooded. A slight pink flushes your cheeks, and your shoulders slightly hunch as if purposefully readying yourself to defy or challenge me, even though you always submit. But only when you think you’re in control.”

“I do not submit,” I snap.

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you so sure?”

His hand turns, and his palm cups my cheek. It’s not tender. It can’t be in the fierce way he stares at me as if restraining himself with all his might. But my body screams for him to finish what he started. And from all the times before, I know exactly how he brings my body and senses to life. He offers me an experience no one ever has.

I’m certain I’m out of my fucking mind as I whisper, “Did you drive here?”

His eyes somehow go darker as if he understands my insinuation. “You’re dancing with fire, Chaos. You know I can’t restrain myself around you.” It goes unsaid that I know if I ask him, he won’t deny me. He never has. Not since that first time I lured him into his car. And I’m sure it’ll be no different now.

More heat floods my core, and my pussy is fucking pounding, begging, and praying to dance on his cock. To revel in the release I’m certain only he can provide.

Ford is dangerous.

Whatever this is between us is dangerous.

Even if it’s only sex, I can’t seem to control myself.

And if my brother finds out, he’ll kill him. And maybe me in the process.

Yet I can’t help myself from whispering, “Then don’t hold back. I’ll meet you outside in two minutes.” I step out of his grip. His fingers curl, and I can see his internal struggle, which gives me a sense of smug satisfaction. He might say I submit only when I think I’m in control, but the reality is, he’s no different—this thing between us is a living entity that neither of us can seem to ignore. That’s a scary thing, but it’s the truth.

“You said we were over,” he says pointedly.

“And now I’m saying we’re back on.” Because I have fucking needs, and I know this man can meet them.

I make my way to the car first, a shot of adrenaline pumping through my veins because it’s literally too close to home. Dutton and my parents are inside. But I know with Posie preoccupying my brother, I have a good chance of getting away unnoticed. I’m an opportunist, if nothing else. And even if I wanted to stop myself, I’m not entirely sure I could, especially when temptation comes in such a ridiculously attractive package.

It’s cool outside as I wait beside his car, but I’m grateful for it as my palms have started to sweat. The thought of being caught is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. I don’t want us to be caught—or almost caught again—but I just can’t help myself.

He doesn’t even wait the full two minutes before he crosses across the grass to the front courtyard, where guests park.

The moment he unlocks the doors, we waste no time sliding into the back seat. I shove him back, and he smirks, raising his hands and letting me have my way with him. I often think it’s because Ford restrains himself around me. That he still hasn’t let me see the true version of him and the needs he has. But I selfishly love how much he’s willing to give to me. How much he allows me to explore.

“You didn’t even give me a treat today,” he reprimands as I straddle his lap and undo his belt.

“Consider me the treat,” I hiss back, and he chuckles. My hands shake as I paw at his cock.

“So desperate, Chaos.” He chuckles, and it’s the most beautiful sound because Ford rarely chuckles. He shifts slightly, his hands running over my bare legs and under my skirt. I take in a breath as he dips his hand between us, and his eyes grow darker. “You’re already wet for me.”

“So soak me up,” I daringly challenge. A small animalistic growl escapes him, and it’s what I like about Ford—he’s primal. And I like taming the beast. But I know that when we’re together, he tries to be on his best behavior. But being curious about what else could be between us would make this about more than sex. And we are absolutely not going down that path.

I hiss as he inserts a finger inside me, and a small moan escapes me when he starts thrusting it in and out. Oh, fuck me, how I’ve missed this man’s gifted hands. His cock springs free from his pants, and I swallow, almost salivating as I stare at it.

“Spit on my cock, Chaos.”

He inserts another finger, and I moan as I collect the saliva in my mouth and slowly let the large drop of spit fall onto his cock. Fuck this man and his beauty. I wrap my hand around his shaft and begin stroking. “Harder. You won’t hurt me,” he growls, and I’m certain nothing could hurt this man. He grimaces as I pull back and forth on the shaft, almost violently.

“Take your shirt off,” he instructs.

I giggle. Not because I like admitting Ford’s right about anything, but he might be about one thing. Initially, I might think I’m in control, but it’s only within a few minutes that he’s taken complete control, even though I’m the one in the position of power. And I don’t mind it at all. In fact, I’m giddy with what he might ask for next.

I take my shirt off, moaning as I continue to ride his callused fingers. Fuck me, this man is everything. He’s giving me the perfect buildup to the release I need.

Something catches my attention as I toss my shirt onto the seat beside us—a face peering in at us through the window.

I scream, and Ford’s hand immediately whips up to cover my mouth as he looks over his shoulder while protecting me with his body.

Posie.

Fuck .

We scramble to make ourselves decent. Once my shirt’s on, I throw open the door and find Posie casually walking to my brother’s car, which is two behind Ford’s.

A wave of relief washes through me when I see my brother’s not with her.

“Posie.” I try to keep my tone even as I run my fingers through my hair to tame it.

She turns around nonchalantly as if there’s nothing to see here. But we both know the truth. “Billie,” she says casually.

“Don’t tell him. Please.” And Posie knows exactly who I’m talking about. The one person who can’t find out about this—my brother. I know it’s a big ask, wanting her to lie to her fiancé, but I’m willing to get on my hands and knees and beg if necessary. And besides, it’s not lying. It’s just pretending she didn’t see any of this.

Ford steps out of the car, adjusting his jeans and shirt.

I can see the reluctance in Posie’s expression as she looks between the two of us. Its most likely because we’re the most mismatched pair anyone could think of. My heart is pounding because, fuck me, we couldn’t be any worse with this sneaking around shit.

“Posie, please. You know Dutton will kill him.”

Ford goes to step behind me as if to reassure me he’ll be okay, but I shake my head at him and point at the door. I know Ford can hold his own. But this involves more than just us. It could ruin Ford’s job as Eli’s second as well.

Ford’s expression shifts, the cocky smirk, and erotic growls of before gone. It’s replaced with a cool expression that not a lot of people can read. But I know he’s hesitant in letting me deal with this. He dealt with Hawke last time. Now, it’s my turn to deal with Posie. But, fuck me, we couldn’t be any worse at hiding this even if we tried.

I’m startled as he steps closer and rubs his thumb against my lips, slowly and sensually. It feels like a caress as much as it does him, wiping away the last remains of our moment together. I must’ve smudged my lipstick. He, however, looks immaculate since he had longer to adjust himself inside the car.

“Go,” I whisper. He hesitates but does as he’s told, and I’m relieved that in whatever wild understanding we have, Ford will listen to my commands. Sometimes.

Posie steps closer to me, and I hold my breath as her hand grips my arm. I’m confused, but I understand it’s her way of comforting me. But I also want to cry because I really don’t want Dutton to find out. I was stupid. I was reckless. I shouldn’t have asked Ford to meet me in his car.

“If you don’t want Ford to die, please don’t say anything,” I whisper. I know it’s a low blow and unfair of me to ask, but I’ll do anything to protect this secret.

The front door opens, and I startle when I see Dutton standing there. My heart is pounding as my brother makes his way toward us. Shit, does he already know? I try my best at a smile. He looks confused for a moment, then says to Posie, “You were gone too long.”

An involuntary sigh escapes me as Posie’s hand drops from my arm. I can’t beg or plead my case with her anymore. I have to pray that whatever friendship we’ve built over the last year is enough to keep this secret between us.

I walk away, fully aware that I’m not welcome by the way my brother’s gaze devours Posie, and I’m disheartened to know that, once again, he can have that but won’t let me have the same.

What Ford and I have is only about sex, but it doesn’t mean that one day I don’t want to find someone I can share a bond with, the same type of bond that Dutton and Posie have. But I know my brother will do anything to destroy the potential of that. No one will ever be good enough for him. And before I reach the door to the house, frustrated tears are pricking my eyes.

It’s ridiculous and unfair. I’m the daughter of two of the most powerful people in New York. I have mafia blood running through my veins, for fuck’s sake. But the two prominent things I’ve taken from my parents are my father’s temper—I’m not good at controlling mine like he, and my brother are, though—and my mother’s heart, forever big and wild and curious. And completely at odds with how to handle all of these restrictions.

My nails curl into my palms. I want to obliterate all of the shackles my brother has placed on me. I’m not a fucking princess in a tower.

So why am I crying like one?

My mother notices me in the hallway, and her smile falters. “We’re just about to serve some sweets. Honey, is everything okay?”

“Give my portion to Ford,” is all I say as I try to hide the bubbling tears as I walk to my room and slam the door.