Page 29

Bailey

The family meeting of the Bennets and the Coulters is so tense that a gust of wind would make the whole thing collapse.

Seeing the Coulter family amongst Tom’s family is stranger than I thought it would be. Tom’s family can be described as old money — like Marcus and my mother. Fancy, elegant with that snobbish flare that reminds me of a cat, prancing about it’s home.

Andi’s family is new money, even if Aunt Camille would prefer nobody know that. They’re not as prim and proper. They’ve worked day-in and day-out for that money and aren’t quite accustomed to spending it yet.

This time, the party is held at the Bennet mansion in the heart of the Garden District. The house is much bigger than Aunt Camille’s, making it impossible to find the bathroom without directions. It’s decorated with old, grand décor that looks like it’s stepped out of Gone with the Wind and probably costs more than my life.

Though I show up with Charlie, I try to keep my distance so as not to draw attention, though I’m not sure Andi’s noticing much as she downs her second glass of champagne.

“Slow down there, cheré ,” Lionel says when she reaches for a third. Andi peers across the room to where Tom is talking to Charlie and his friend, Jake, whom I recognize from my date with Peter.

I follow her gaze, finding Charlie watching me with a burning intensity that sets my skin ablaze. To the outside world, nothing seems different. To us, I know he’s only glaring at me because I sent him a text a little after we arrived and told him that I had no panties on under my dress.

It’s the little things in life that really bring you joy . . .

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Andi asks quietly, a scowl on her face.

“You worried about something?” I ask, side-eyeing her. I’ve never seen her so . . . worried.

“No.”

Lionel and I look at each other.

“Yes,” Andi admits after a moment.

“Oh, do tell,” Lionel says, brushing an imaginary strand of hair from his ear.

“Nothing,” Andi quips, her cheeks flaming red.

“You slept with the friend, didn’t you?”

Andi shushes him and quickly peeks to make sure none of the men were paying attention to us.

“Wait a second,” I say, holding out a hand in caution. “Is this Big Dick? ”

Andi doesn’t say anything, giving me all the answer I need.

“It is,” I gasp, covering my mouth.

“Shhh . . .” Andi snaps desperately.

“Wait, Big Dick?” Lionel asks.

“They had a fling,” I whisper, covering my mouth from the rest of the room. “Said it was huge.”

Lionel cocks an eyebrow, inspecting Jake from across the room.

“If you must know,” Andi sighs, grumbling out her next words so they’re barely intelligible. “I was drunk. I don’t remember a lot.”

“You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Isn’t that Charlie’s best friend?” I ask, almost laughing at the similarities in our situation. “I take it Charlie doesn’t know.”

“No. And he’s not going to find out, either.”

Lionel eyes me curiously, sipping the champagne in his glass to hide a smile. I wish kicking someone in the shins was common, so I could make sure he keeps his trap shut. Andi and I still haven’t addressed the whole Charlie issue and this meeting of the families isn’t the place to do it.

“He’s hotter than Tom,” Lionel says, checking Jake’s rear out.

“I agree,” I shrug, earning me a look from Andi that could freeze hell over.

“Tom’s a nice guy.”

“I don’t know that I would go that far. He was raised by Satan, herself.” Everyone laughs, catching the attention of the group of men across the room.

We drop our voices again, stepping closer.

“So, how was it?” Lionel asks. “Is he like, full straight? ”

Andi groans and rubs her temples with her fingers, making me chuckle. At least it’s not me this time.

When we sit down to dinner, I’m seated between Andi and Charlie, making me feel like a rock stuck between two mountains. On one side, Andi is arguing with Tom quietly over something I can’t quite hear. On the other, Charlie’s hand is under the table, slipping up under my dress to check if I really have panties on.

Instinctively, I jump when the pad of his thumb brushes between my folds. Much to my horror, Jake is on the other side and they carry on a conversation like Charlie’s not sliding a finger inside me.

Heat washes through my body and I quell a moan by drinking half my glass of the wine served with dinner. It’s bitter and tastes like the sugarless cranberry juice my mother drinks every morning, but it serves its purpose.

I push his hand off before he makes me come in a room surrounded by his family and our friends.

“Something wrong, princess?” he asks innocently, turning to face me.

“Nothing. Thought there was a pest on me.”

He chuckles, running that same thumb over his lips and flashing that fucking megawatt smile at me. The longer I’m around him, it’s easier to see why women have no problem falling into bed with him. He’s an enigma.

Holding his gaze, I lower my spoon into the mystery soup that I’m supposed to be eating, raise it to my mouth and suck it off as seductively as I can. It’s not easy because it’s not good.

Charlie’s eyes heat up, but when he sees my look of despair when I realize I don’t like the soup, he laughs.

“Bailey, will you come find the bathroom with me,” Andi asks, her voice tight. “I’m worried there will be ghosts.” She unfolds her napkin and tosses it on the table in front of her with a little too much sass. She mumbles something at Tom when she passes, but I can’t hear what she says.

In the hallway, she tugs my hand, leading me into a room off the main hallway and shutting the door. It looks to be an office of some sorts and for a moment, I worry she’s planning some kind of heist on her mother-in-law.

Unfortunately, it’s something much worse. She leans against the desk, sucking in shallow breaths as quickly as she can.

“Andi.” I step up to her, rubbing her arms to try to get her to calm down. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her breath wheezing like she can’t breathe. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

She clutches her chest, her grey eyes wide.

“I don’t want this.”

“This party? I know. It’s boring.”

She shakes her head. “No. I don’t know if I want to marry Tom anymore.”

“Oh.” My hands fall, my heartbeat sputtering out.

“I know, it’s a horrible time to bring this up, I just don’t know anymore.”

Tears stream down her cheeks and she starts to cry.

“Come here.” I pull her to me, hugging her as tight as possible. “What’s got you thinking this way?”

“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “I’ve just had a sinking feeling since this all began.”

“Tom loves you,” I tell her, holding her shoulder so she’ll look at me. “He does. I can tell.”

“It’s not that.” She looks at the door, like she’s worried someone might be listening in. “I just . . . I just don’t know who I am anymore.”

She breaks down in tears, and I can’t stop from crying with her. I’ve been in her shoes. Knowing that something just doesn’t feel right with the person you’re engaged to, but not knowing if it’s you making things up in your head or if it’s really there and you just can’t see it.

“What do I do?” Andi asks, barely above a whisper. She clings to me like a lifeline, only I feel like I’m sinking with her. “Help me.”

I suck in a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm my nerves. I search for something, anything to give her, but I can’t. I couldn’t even get myself out of the same situation. How do I help her?

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Whatever you decide to do. I’m with you every step of the way.”

I hand her a tissue and she dabs at the corners of her eyes.

“I love him, but am I ready for this?”

I smile softly, taking the tissue from her and cleaning up the smudged mascara on her cheek.

“If you’re worried about being a good wife, I think you’re crazy. If you’re worried about Tom being a good husband? Don’t. Your brother’s threatened to dump him in the swamps and I’m totally down to help. He knows better.”

She laughs, it’s not a real one, but the smile she gives me after is.

“And don’t worry about Sarah, either. I’m sure a good, strong wind will blow her away.”

This warrants me a real laugh.

“Bailey, I hate this house. I can’t live in a place like this.” I look around me at all the grim, albeit expensive, antiques. They would look beautiful on their own, but there’s just so much of them that it makes the house look more like an eighteen hundreds antique store.

“Yeah, make sure you don’t let Sarah decorate your place. She’ll have it looking like the inside of a museum.”

The door opens suddenly, surprising both of us. We both jump, turning in time to see Tom opening the door.

“Everything okay?” he asks, cautiously looking between the two of us.

I open my mouth to ask him to give us some space, but Andi beats me to it.

“Yeah.” She offers him a smile. “Everything’s great.”

She walks to him and places a kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry for fighting.”

He peeks at me and something about the weird expression in his eyes sets me on edge. I don’t like it. It’s almost like he’s daring me to say something.

Before, I would have hunkered down, cowering away from a man like Tom, just like I did Drew.

“Go back to dinner, baby. I have a surprise for you I want to talk to Bailey about.”

She smiles gently and nods, disappearing out the door and leaving me alone with Tom.

“So, what do you really want?” I ask, lowering my voice so no one out in the party can hear me .

Tom chuckles humorlessly and steps further into the room, shutting the door most of the way behind him.

“You just can’t keep your nose out of things, can you?” he asks dryly.

“Looks like someone needs to step in.” I take a step toward him. “Tell me, why are you so afraid of Andi spending time with me?”

He narrows his eyes, the darkness in the room making them appear almost black.

“Do me a favor and stop filling my fiancée’s head with lies. She’s got enough on her plate already.”

I deadpan at him. “Lies? You mean allowing her to think for herself?”

“You see, Bailey. I was against you coming here. Then, once you arrived, I thought maybe you could actually help her. But then I saw you in the pool with Charlie. A couple days later you’re on a date with Peter. When does it end, Bailey?”

“When do you admit to cheating with Cecilia?”

His jaw tightens and he glares at me.

“You just don’t get it do you?” He stalks toward me, stopping a couple feet in front of me. I can smell the putrid animal urine he calls cologne and it makes my stomach roil. “Andi is happy.”

“Keep thinking that. Maybe you’ll believe it hard enough for the rest of us.”

He takes another step, but a throat clears in the doorway, causing him to jump and spin around.

“You okay?” Charlie asks, eyeing me over Tom’s head.

I nod, hurriedly stepping around Tom and going to Charlie’s side. He wraps his arm around me, pulling me tightly against him and planting a kiss to my temple. I don’t miss the look he shoots Tom before leading me away and back to the party.

“How much of that did you hear?”

He grits his teeth. “Every fucking word.”

I nod off on the way home and wake up to Charlie opening my door.

I jump, almost falling out of the truck, before he rights me with a soft chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, allowing him to help me slip down out of the truck, groggy and slightly wobbly on my heels. Charlie wraps an arm around me and pulls me into his side to steer me to the house.

“Too much family for one day?”

I nod, tugging my dress down from where it rode up my legs indecently while climbing out of the truck.

“They’ll do that to you,” Charlie says as he unlocks the gate. He leads me down the path to the back doors, before tugging me against him, surprising me with how gently he hugs me. “Go get some sleep.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me about Tom?”

“I heard everything I need to hear. I’ll talk to her — see what’s going on.”

My stomach sinks, but he places a kiss on my forehead, lingering there for a split second.

“Don’t think I won’t be over there to wake you up first thing in the morning. ”

I smile at the bite in his voice. I have to admit, though, it makes me a little sad that we won’t be spending a couple hours together tonight. It’s become the most solid thing in my life, having him there.

He releases everything but my hand, which he drops almost reluctantly when I walk to my back door.

“Night, Charlie,” I say over my shoulder.

He smiles. “Night, princess.”

As one can imagine, I did not, in fact, get some sleep when I fell into bed. I’m wearing a large t-shirt and nothing else and the AC is cranked on full blast, but I’m hot. Sweltering from the inside out. The minuscule five minutes I was able to sleep only aided in the problem.

When I jumped awake, burning lust coasted through my veins. I was just about to slip further into a dream — a fucking sex dream, of all things — when a loud clap of thunder sounded overhead.

Rain pours down in sheets outside, making it hard to see the pool. I debate on running outside to cool off, but it won’t fix this issue.

I need Charlie. God, I’m a freaking addict.

I lay in bed, staring angrily at the ceiling while my core pulses with need. Slowly, like someone might be watching me. I slip my fingers down my stomach and below the hem of my shirt .

My own arousal coats my fingers when I tug them back. So much that it leaks down the curve of my ass.

“Screw this,” I grumble, snatching my phone off the nightstand.

Bailey: Are you awake?

Seconds later, my phone buzzes.

Charlie: Yes.

I rip the covers back before I can lose my nerve and hurry to the back door. The rain is cold on my skin and the bottoms of my feet as soon as I step out, but I don’t care. Charlie’s door is already open and as soon as I climb the stairs to the house, he grabs me into his arms and tugs me inside.

I throw my arms around him and sink into a rough, impatient kiss. Instantly, his fingers dive into my hair, fisting the now damp roots. He stumbles forward, roughly pressing me into the wall with a low growl that resounds through his chest where my hands rest.

“Thought kissing brewed feelings,” he taunts, though it lacks its usual sarcastic bite. I almost think it’s a genuine question.

“No,” I shake my head, breathless, but unable to stop kissing him. My blood roars in my ears, like it’s just now coming to life. A week. I couldn’t even last a week without kissing Charlie.

“Good girl.”

Charlie tugs me from the wall and pulls me into the room where he drops me on the bed, looming over me like some kind of angel of death. A flash of lightning reflects off his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the stony greyness of his eyes — eyes that are currently burning a hole through me.

Holding his gaze, I slip my shirt over my head and toss it. Charlie’s eyes turn caustic as they scan my body and I have to swallow down hard past the lump in my throat.

My heart skips to a stop when he kneels on the bed and brings his lips back to mine without a word. His hand grips the back of my neck and his tongue rolls into my mouth like he’s starved for the taste of me.

“God, I’ve wanted this,” he growls, nipping at my bottom lip before soothing the spot with a lick of his tongue. I jerk beneath him, pressing my breasts into his chest.

I was stupid to think I could get away without kissing Charlie. The man might as well have invented it.

A deep ache burns in my core, reminding me of the emptiness that’s consuming me. I arch into him when his kisses trail down to my neck, biting and sucking a path that will surely be visible tomorrow.

“Why did you refuse to kiss me for so long?” he asks, rolling his hips into me.

“I told you,” I breathe as he lowers his head and swirls his tongue around my nipple. My head falls back against the mattress and a gasp fights past my lips.

His hand slides between my legs and he inserts two fingers inside me, cursing under his breath.

“So greedy.” His lips find mine again and he sucks on my tongue when I slide it into his mouth. Heat pools in my core as his fingers slide in and out of me. “Tell me the real reason.”

He pulls back, slowing his movements. He’s letting me play the game. Either tell him and get what I want or don’t and lay there frustrated and needy.

I cup his cheek in my hand, attempting to kiss him, again, but he pulls back just before I can touch him. I growl in frustration and try to move my hips, but the weight of his body on top of mine prevents me from moving.

“Because kissing you makes me forget that I’m supposed to hate you.”

With a groan, he kisses me again, pulling his fingers out of me and cupping my face sweetly.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, baby,” he whispers against my lips.

I take a deep breath, my body tingling with need. My stomach clenches at the thought of his rejection, but I have to try.

“Will you . . . tie me up?”

He stills, pulling back an inch to look at me. His expression is unreadable, cold, almost.

“I’m not tying you up.” It was final.

Tears burn at the backs of my eyes, but I shake them away.

“Please? I trust you.”

I don’t have to explain what I mean. I can see the moment he realizes what I’ve said. After a long and calculated minute, he steps off the bed, crossing the room to the small dresser in the corner. He pulls something out of the top drawer — a silky black tie — and comes back to the bed.

Anticipation curls in my stomach, as I watch him climb back to straddle me.

“If you want to stop, what are you going to say?”

I just stare up at him blankly.

“Bailey,” he growls, like he’s barely holding onto his composure. On the surface, he’s the same cool and controlled Charlie I’ve come to know. Under the surface, I get the feeling something’s burning.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. What do I say?”

He leans down, a hand on each side of the pillow under my head. “A safe word. Something out of the blue that wouldn’t fit into normal conversation.”

My cheeks flame as I search my head for something.

“You didn’t have a safe word before.” It wasn’t a question. Regardless, I shake my head.

He groans, kissing me softly. Taking my hands in one of his, he wraps the silk around my wrists, one by one and then around a wrung in the headboard. His hands shake ever so slightly, like he’s just as amped up as I am. He keeps his hand there, holding mine and stares down at me with so much seriousness it makes my pulse falter.

My heartbeat hammers in my ears, my breathing picking up. The girls in Drew’s pictures flash through my mind in rapid succession.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

I take a deep breath, licking my dry lips. I allow the feel of him, the smell of him to coax my senses and calm me down.

“I’m okay,” I breathe, now wishing I could touch him.

“If you want to stop, say blue.” He searches my face, like he’s waiting for me to understand.

Blue. The color of my eyes. I can’t explain the strange wave of warmth that spreads through my chest when it dawns on me.

“Okay,” I nod, pulling on my restraints. They don’t move, but instead of panic, I feel . . . exhilarated as I watch Charlie crawl down the bed to rest between my legs. He eyes me, a dark expression on his face. He takes my hips in his hands and spreads my legs as far as they can bend.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he murmurs, almost talking to himself while his eyes travel the length of my naked body. I blush under the heat of his stare, but, strangely, I don’t feel embarrassed. The lust I felt for him earlier only doubles in his presence. “Remember, Bailey. Blue.”

The first touch of his tongue on my clit has me arching off the bed, but unable to really move. I let out a gasp and Charlie chuckles wickedly against my skin. He nips at the inside of my thigh before sliding his tongue through my folds.

My body feels like it’s floating on air, suspended underneath him. Breathless, throaty moans leave me as he slides his tongue in my opening, tracing it with his tongue.

“Fuck, I love the little sounds you make.”

He presses the flat of his tongue against me, licking me from ass to clit. My toes curl as pleasure shoots through my body.

“Please,” I groan, tugging hard on the bindings.

“Not yet,” he grits, his hand sliding down to cup the curve of my ass. Without warning, he flips me until I land on my knees. With one hand braced on my upper back to hold my front down, his other swats at my backside.

Electricity erupts through me, the small bite of pain from his palm sending my body into orbit. I arch back, earning me another swat before I feel him. He nips at the flesh of my ass, causing me to jerk. He chuckles, using both hands on my hips to hold me still.

His tongue glides over my opening, making me tense. He massages my hips, coaxing me to relax. Pressure builds inside me until it reaches a fever pitch. A desperate moan leaves me and I bite the pillow below me to quiet myself.

Another swat. “Let me hear you, baby.”

He moves higher, rimming the opening of my rear and a broken sound escapes me. He growls in appreciation, his fingers sliding over my hip bone to find my clit. He’s everywhere and everywhere in a hurry, like he can’t get enough of me. Like I’m the only thing that matters.

My heart swells and so does the impending orgasm that builds. I struggle against the bindings, somehow turned on that I’m at his mercy.

I come so hard my legs give out. Charlie flips me over and settles on my clit, again, drawing out my orgasm until it bleeds into another. I’m damp with sweat when he pulls back and slides his boxers off.

His erection springs free, the thick vein on the underside jutting out. It’s looks painful and tempting.

“Can I taste you?” I ask, watching him with dark, heavy eyes.

He shakes his head, climbing back between my legs.

“I want to come inside you.”

He aligns himself at my opening, pushing his cock in and hitting my wall before he stops and pulls back out. I cry out when he fills me completely, too full for that split second before he withdrawals.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” he grits, thrusting back into me. “Like you were made for me.”

My heart flutters and I arch into him, managing to capture his lips with mine. He groans into my mouth, his hands gripping the headboard on either side of mine. He uses them as leverage to fuck into me harder, driving his cock deeper inside me.

“You feel so good,” I pant against his lips. “It’s too much.” My clit pulses with my heartbeat, my previous orgasm still tightening my sex around him.

“You know the word.”

I don’t say it. I don’t want to. The maddening pace of his hips, thrusting in and out of me so slowly I have no choice but to feel every inch of him feels too good to stop. I briefly wonder if you can go mad from this kind of ecstasy.

I’m not sure when I realized that my heart felt both heavy and light. Whether it was when Charlie fucked me so hard, I thought I would black out while whispering how perfect I was, or if it was when he untied my wrists because he said he wanted to feel me touching him. Either way, I have a sinking feeling in my gut that I won’t walk away from this in one piece. A part of me will always be here, completely in awe of this man who does the dirtiest of things to me and makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Who makes you come, sweetheart?” he asks, his lips hovering over mine. My body tightens in waves around his cock, ready to spill over at any moment.

“You do,” I pant against his lips, my hands in his hair.

“Good girl.” He pulls back, powering me through one last, soul-shaking orgasm. He kisses me roughly, growling in satisfaction as he comes.

“Fuck,” he curses when his orgasm subsides, kissing me softly.

It’s at that moment I realize with some distress that I am falling completely, helplessly, one hundred percent in love with Charlie Coulter. My enemy.

And I had done so before I ever broke the no kissing rule.

I’m stuck in this now. If I don’t end this soon, I’m not sure there will be any of me left to take back to Malibu when I leave.

Charlie cleans me, puts cream on my wrists and backside, even though there are no marks, then he just kisses me. He kisses me until all sounds of the city die down outside the house and I can barely keep my eyes open. My body feels lax, my lips swollen, but still I kiss him with a fever I’ve come to realize is reserved for only him.

“Are you falling asleep on me, sweetheart?” he asks, nipping at my bottom lip and forcing my eyes open.

I laugh sleepily, curling further into his embrace. “I should go home. I’m tired.”

I move to slide out from under the covers, but Charlie catches my hand.

“Come here,” he chuckles, his voice still husky. He pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. His warm front rests against my back and even though I can feel he’s still hard, he doesn’t press the matter.

“I thought you didn’t do sleepovers?” I joke, nestling into him. I can’t resist the urge to shut my eyes, yawning.

Charlie’s lips press against the soft flesh behind my ear. The movement is sweet, possessive. It fills my stomach with things I don’t want to feel.

“I don’t.”

“This is complicating things,” I say after a moment, worry making my stomach feel like a pissed off bee hive.

“So let it,” he responds, holding me tighter .

I don’t argue with him. I haven’t slept next to someone in a long time, especially not with them holding me — no, cradling me, like I’m something precious to them. At least, not while sober. Despite the deal, despite the animosity I used to feel toward him, I meant what I said to him earlier. I trust him. In fact, I feel safe with him.

I curl up, closing my eyes and succumbing to the weight of sleep trying to drag me under. Even if it is just for tonight, maybe he can chase away my nightmares and make me feel like a human. Like I’m not just an accessory or a toy or a child.

Maybe for tonight, I can just be his.