Page 5

Chapter Five

K eith gave one final thrust as he erupted into Hillary Santmeyer.

The release felt good even though he could have forgone Hillary’s hysterics.

So, what if she was a little dry? Did she have to try to pull away from him and scream like that?

Although hearing her scream with pain had turned him on—more.

He had plunged into her with abandon. He could picture Claire screaming when he finally caught her. And he would.

Hillary gave a little cry of pain and moaned as he pulled out. Damn, she ruined the moment. Stupid bitch just couldn’t go with the flow. When she started whining about how dry she had been and how much it hurt, he lost it. Two timed blows to her breasts had her crying for real.

“There, now you have something to cry about.”

She tried to turn away from him, but he grabbed her chin hard and forced her to look him in the eyes, the fear in hers turning him on even more. “Don’t. Ever. Complain. Again.” He poked her chest with each word. “Or we are over.” His arm swept around the room. “And all this goes away. ”

He grabbed her breast and squeezed just a little. But enough to cause pain. She squirmed, but he held on. “I paid for this. Do you understand?” Tearfully, she nodded her head.

Damn, he felt good. Hillary didn’t mind the perks.

She had access to most of his accounts and business as his administrative assistant at the office.

A beautiful condo—paid for by him. Designer clothes and spa treatments—paid for by him.

Sex on demand—paid for by him. She could take a little pain.

Besides the fact that she knew a lot of his secrets, the only other downside was that she was expecting him to marry her—as if.

Claire. Her leaving consumed his thoughts.

She disappeared four days ago. Four days.

He had to find her and bring her back. She was a wildcat in bed, never complained, and he missed that.

Where had she disappeared to? Guess she hadn’t learned her lesson about not leaving him after the last time.

This time when he got her back, the punishment would have to be harsher to reinforce that.

The thoughts of punishing Claire made him hard again. He turned toward Hillary. Grinned. A look of pain passed over her eyes. Too bad. He pushed her on her knees to the floor. She gave a faint smile and reached for him. Good girl! She was a fast learner.

Today he would enjoy fucking Hillary again. Tomorrow, he would take a little trip to Claire’s parents and find out if they heard anything from her.

Claire’s parents lived in the tony community of Larchmont, not far from Manhattan. Keith rented a car for the day and an hour later pulled up to the Tudor-style house and parked in front. It was a modest neighborhood from all accounts, but he knew homes in the area sold for more than a million.

Walking up several stone stairs to the slate walk, he rehearsed what he wanted to say to them. Had to be careful because her parents didn’t like him. He hated them.

He rang the bell once, heard it chime inside, and a woman’s voice called out, “Be there in a minute.” He tapped his foot, waiting for them to open the door.

A shadow passed by the peephole, and then the door opened. An older version of Claire stood in front of him. Dislike, then surprise filled her eyes.

“Why, Keith. Hello. What a surprise. Come in.” She peered around him. “Claire isn’t with you?”

Bitch.

No, Claire wasn’t with him.

“No. I wanted to discuss a problem Claire and I are having with you and George.” He peered around her. “That is, if he’s home.” He knew George was home. He’d called his office earlier.

“Oh, dear. Have a seat, and I’ll get him.

You’re in luck. He’s working from home this week.

” She motioned toward the expansive living room.

Another few steps, and he settled into a comfy white chair.

It was a pleasant room, light and airy—expensive furniture.

Massive stone fireplace, but it was too warm for a fire.

He heard their footsteps, and Claire’s parents walked in. He got up to shake hands with her father, and they sat on the sofa across from him.

George leaned forward and cleared his throat. “Diane tells me you have something to discuss. Is there a problem?’

Hell, yeah, dickhead, there’s a problem.

Keith lowered his voice, forced a tear to his eye. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but Claire has disappeared. ”

He loved the shock and surprise on their faces. Yes, bitches, your precious Claire has disappeared.

“Oh, my goodness.” Diane covered her mouth, her eyes wide. “What happened? You haven’t heard from her at all?”

Keith clasped his hands, hung his head for a moment, then raised it.

“Claire is suffering from depression, and no, I haven’t heard from her. The doctor put her on medication. We thought it helped, but her depression got worse.”

Diane inhaled. “Oh, my poor Claire. We didn’t know.”

“I had to institutionalize her for a week.”

They were stunned.

“I thought she was feeling better after she came home. But a couple of days ago, she up and left. I haven’t heard from her. She left her medication. I’m so afraid for her.” He put his hands over his eyes and let out a sob. Not too much, just enough to get sympathy.

Diane rushed over and patted his shoulder. “You poor thing. I wish she or you had told us about this problem before.”

Suck it up, baby. “Claire didn’t want to worry you and made me promise not to say anything.” He looked from one parent to the next. “I was hoping she had come here. Did she?” He glanced around. “Has she called you?”

George looked over at Diane. “No. We haven’t heard from her at all.”

“I hope you would tell me if she did. I’m so worried about her.” Keith laid the guilt on thick. He needed to find Claire and had hoped she was here. Although, if she were, would they tell him? Maybe not. He had burned that bridge so to speak when he weaned Claire off her parents.

“Would she have gone to Ashley’s?” Keith asked. He didn’t think so. Her sister Ashley lived at the New Jersey shore, and he had squashed that relationship too. Ashley hated him .

“Ashley would have said something, but we can call her,” George replied.

“Would you? Can we do it now? I’m worried about Claire and what’s happening to her.”

George pulled out his cell phone and dialed Ashley. He spoke to her for a few minutes and hung up the phone. “Ashley hasn’t heard from Claire in months.”

Damn. They were either good at hiding her, or they really didn’t know where she was. He was going to have to think of an appropriate punishment for Claire when he found her. She’d embarrassed him too many times.

He stood up. “I’m so sorry to drop this on you. I need to get back to the condo in case she comes home. If you hear anything, please let me know.”

They said they would, and George walked him to the door.

“I don’t understand any of this. Claire never had depression before. Please call if you hear from her.”

Keith nodded, shook hands with her father and left. Who else could he contact?

Maybe someone at the museum? He knew most of the women who worked there or their husbands, but there were a couple of new employees.

Had Claire befriended one of them? She knew better than to confide in anyone, especially someone they knew.

She’d learned that lesson the hard way, and he was sure she remembered what happened the first and last time she confided in acquaintances. So maybe it was someone new.

Keith drove back to the city, dropped off the car. He waved to the doorman and took the private elevator to his fifth-floor penthouse. Fifth Avenue—the best address in New York City. Apartment on Fifth Avenue—the second best.

He got the penthouse for a steal. A former client had some financial difficulties that he helped him with, and part of the deal was the apartment.

Not that the client wanted to part with it.

But hey, you fool with bad guys, you pay the price.

And the price was a “get out of jail” card for the client and a two-story penthouse with a rooftop garden overlooking Central Park for him.

Five bedrooms, five baths, 7,000 square feet of luxury.

Too much for just him and Claire, but the price had been right.

He set the mail he had picked up downstairs on the console.

It was raining outside, the sky a deep charcoal gray.

The apartment had a depressing feel to it.

Where was Claire? Didn’t she know he needed her?

Well, not exactly need, but he wanted her.

Wanted to consume her. Wanted her to adore him.

Shit, where did that come from? He didn’t need anyone.

But he paid for and deserved her love and devotion.

Going into the kitchen, he opened the double-wide door of the Sub-Zero refrigerator and took out a beer—the microbrew he preferred and Claire always stocked.

Snapped the cap off and took a healthy slug.

Where else could he go? Claire’s parents and sister were not going to be any help.

She didn’t have any friends except for the ones they saw occasionally, but they were his friends, not hers.

Not that he had friends, but they all pretended.

Even at the museum, he knew practically everyone there.

Maybe a visit was in order. First, he needed to shower and change his clothes. Finish his beer. Check his phone. Perhaps she had called and was begging to come home. He didn’t think so, but he was optimistic.