Page 2

Chapter Two

Zeland

“YOU. FUCKING. WHAT?!”

I knew asking Aspen to stay would piss Ridge off, but he has been so into work the last year he’s barely come up for breath. He is like a damn robot and it’s not healthy, so recently I tried and failed to get a reaction out of him. Nothing has worked until now. He didn’t come home last night, as predicted, and I found him in his office smashing down a black coffee, probably his third of the morning.

“Come on, what was I supposed to do? She was in your clothes and had nowhere to go. I couldn’t just throw her out on the street.”

“Of course you would keep a stray—you were always bringing home animals. But you are doing this to piss me off, Zee, and I don’t like it. We have too much on the line.”

“Calm down, everything is fine. Ridez is doing fucking fantastic. You had one hiccup, which was my fault.”

Ridge flicks on the wall of screens, our home security system displayed on all of them. We have a smart house—every appliance, every inch of the house. I particularly love talking to Ridge through the refrigerator in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice and scaring the pants off him, though he doesn’t like it as much.

“What is she doing?”

I look at the screen and see Aspen in her underwear and a tank top, dancing and singing into a broom handle. “Sweeping the floor?”

“I can see that, genius. But why? We have a housekeeper.”

I pull the app up on my phone. “Pocket Rocket, we have a housekeeper, so there’s no need to sweep.”

Her head whips around as she searches for where the voice is coming from. “To your left, yep right there.”

She flips me off. Aspen is a tiny little thing with a big attitude, and sexy as fuck. She gives off an old-school Keesha vibe, with a raspy voice that makes my cock hard, and bleached-blonde hair, which is probably from a bottle with the way the yellow blends through.

What I wouldn’t give to feature her on my View4U app—it’s my baby and I’m super fucking proud of it. Ridge’s father gave me the start-up money, and I now own a kink app, one where people can film content and make money off other people’s views. Any kink you can think of you will find on there—well, any legal ones, that is. You can’t murder anyone and eat them; we stay within the law and for good reason.

“Stop ogling the homeless girl,” Ridge snaps.

“Fuck no! I like my girls feisty. Do you think she will scratch me?”

“I can’t deal with you right now. Can’t you go to your floor and annoy someone else?”

I step up behind him and grab the back of his neck. He might be a few inches taller than me, but I’m just as strong. When I push him into the floor-to-ceiling windows, he doesn’t fight back.

“Do you need me to relieve some of that tension? You have a meeting at eleven. You can’t snap at them like you do me.”

He moves swiftly, facing me in a split second, then sweeps my legs out from under me. In turn, I fall on my ass and smirk up at him as he unbuckles his belt.

We don’t fuck as much as we did as horny teenagers trapped under the same roof. It started one night after a party, when I drunkenly kissed him, and he told me the only place I could put my lips was his cock. He was probably trying to scare me away, but at the time, he didn’t know I was bisexual. I barely knew myself. Turns out I don’t discriminate who I fuck. Ridge, however, is more conservative in his selections. The asshole doesn’t believe in love; everything is a transaction to him. You would think with that mentality that he had a shitty upbringing, but no, his parents love him and even their divorce was amicable—they just didn’t love each other. Shit, after my mother did a number on his father, they still allowed me to live in their house and Harrison treated me like a son. He still does.

But Ridge has some notion in his head that falling in love will derail his career.

He is just about to undo his fly when his assistant’s voice filters through the intercom. “Mr. Ellington, Genevieve Lancaster is here to see you.”

I huff and push myself to my feet and Ridge redoes his belt as he walks toward his office phone.

“Let her in.”

I whine at the thought of her.

“Don’t start with me,” Ridge snaps.

“She’s the devil dressed in really expensive clothes.”

Ridge shakes his head. “She’s been our friend since we were kids. She really isn’t that bad.”

“Mark my words, that woman is going to drug you and take what she wants to get what she wants.”

“And what is that?” he snaps.

“Your spawn, so she can trap you.”

“Is that right? You Aussie brat,” Genevieve purrs as she struts into Ridge’s office. “I will have you know I don’t need to trap anyone. I’m beautiful, rich, and have a lot to offer.”

“Enjoy being woven into her web. I’m off to watch our new houseguest.”

I turn and walk toward the door, giving Genevieve a wide berth—even her perfume could trap a man, luring them in to their unexpecting death.

“It’s illegal, you know,” Ridge throws at me.

“Is not, she is in our house. Plus, I plan to make this fun. You remember what fun is, don’t you?”

I don’t wait for his reply. Instead, as I leave his office, I wink at his receptionist, Carmen; she is adorable, and we may have hooked up once. When I told Aspen I don’t shit where I eat, I meant on my floor of Ridgeland Global Enterprises. Ridge’s floor is fair game. Mainly because it annoys him when I screw his staff, but even more when I take them upstairs to the top floor and into his penthouse apartment. I never stay there; I only stop to fuck. It’s a quick commute from the office and I won’t have anyone turn up on my doorstep afterward.

I take the elevator down one floor and as the doors open, my grin widens. My office is way more fun than Ridge’s. My staff have a fun work environment, and I watch as my assistant Eliott flies past me on a hoverboard and circles back.

“Morning, boss man. I left all of your messages on your desk, though I got a call earlier from your mother?—”

I hold up my hand, interrupting him. “And what did she want?”

He smirks at me. “Money, of course. I told her you were out of the country, and I didn’t know when you were due back.”

“Good man.”

“There’s also a reporter sniffing around with accusations that there was a minor on your app.”

I snort at that. There is no way. Ridge and I—well, mainly Ridge, who is a computer genius—make sure that everyone who signs up provides identification. Then we run it through a program designed by Ridge to make sure it’s not fake. All our content is scanned before it’s uploaded to make sure it does not have anyone in it who hasn’t provided their identification. All our content providers and all our subscribers are twenty-one or older.

“Divert any of their calls to our legal department.”

“Already did,” he says, circling me again.

“I think you deserve a raise—you leave me no work to do.”

“Nah, but I wouldn’t say no to a date,” he says with a flirty wink.

I chuckle. “You know my rules.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t shit where you eat. You could always trade me to Ridge.”

“In your dreams. Now get back to work. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

I leave Eliott and head into my office, loosening my tie and slipping off the stupid-ass shoes Ridge brought me—I only wear them to make him happy. If it was up to me, I would wear my converse. Flopping down into my chair, I go through the messages and push them aside. None are overly important and can wait. It’s all target audiences, pricing models, developers, blah blah blah. I’m not feeling it today, not when I know there is a feisty blonde waiting in my house.

Pulling up our home security footage, I flick through the rooms, finding her in the games room. I snort when I see her playing some shooting game, turning up the volume to listen.

“Oh, boo-hoo. Rage quit, you little loser.”

She cackles to herself, and I watch as she takes out the others with ease one by one. “Be careful talking that much shit, boy. I will come over there and fuck your dad and become your new stepmom. Oh, he’s dead? Well, I’ll fuck your mom.”

I snort. This girl is something else.

“Come on, Dark Soul, I thought you had my back. You and I could be good friends... Fine, I promise I won’t fuck your dad. If you help me win, I’ll fuck you instead.”

I can’t help myself, bringing up the home app on my phone. “You really shouldn’t fuck strangers from the internet.”

Her head whips to the side. “But I should fuck strangers who trap me in their death cars instead?” I see her brow raise. “Fuck. Good save, I’m so fucking you now.”

I jot down this asshole’s username. “Why would you not want to fuck me? I have an enormous cock.”

She doesn’t turn, instead concentrating on playing her game. “The size of the boat doesn’t matter. It’s the motion of the ocean that counts.”

I snort. “Let’s see if you still believe that when I’m ruining your pussy and you’re screaming my name.”

“Why would I want you to ruin my pussy? I like it just the way it is. ”

“Uh-huh, we’ll see. I’ll be home around six—would you like to grab dinner with me?”

“Can’t,” she throws back. “I’ve got work, but how do I get back inside once I leave?”

I smirk. “I’ll have Ronny give you a swipe card and the codes. She should be there soon.”

“And who is Ronny exactly?” she asks.

“Only the best woman in the world. She cleans, cooks, and does the laundry. She knows you’re there; she washed your clothes last night. Anything you need, just let her know.”

“I’m a big girl, and I can buy my own things. The room is more than enough.”

I’m not worried about her online safety—she doesn’t know it, but our gaming system is hooked up to state-of-the-art security. Her voice won’t sound like her own, so if she picked a female character, others will hear a generic female voice. Shutting off the cameras, I pick up my phone and dial a man who is worth exactly the obscene amount we pay him—Ryker Maddox, our hacker. Ridge wouldn’t give him that title because hacking is illegal, but that is basically what he does.

“Zeland,” he answers the call. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to find me some information.”

“Do you have names this time, or just a seedy picture from a nightclub?”

I laugh at him. “That was once, and she had nice tits. I have a first name, Aspen?—”

“Ahh, the little blonde staying at your house. Ridge already called last night. I sent him the file this morning. Did you want me to send it to you too?”

“Yes, and I also want some information on a gamer named capital X, little x, DarkSoul01, all one word and then little x and capital X.”

“Done. Give me a few hours and I will email it to you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Send the invoice when you’re ready.”

He ends the call with no response; Ryker isn’t one for pleasantries. My secure email pings and I open the file Ryker has sent through on Aspen.

It has all the basics:

Aspen Anne Ashcroft

Born on February first

She is twenty-one years old and attends PHU, grew up near here in a small town called Maple Hollow with her grandmother. Father unknown, mother MIA. I’m sure if Ryker dug further, he could find her, but unless asked, I won’t pry into her personal life. She has no felonies and leads a fairly boring life. Aspen currently works at a college bar called The Syllabus close to campus. She has five thousand dollars in her account, and her transaction history is mostly at the facility caring for her grandmother. Otherwise, there is minimal spending, which concerns me because it means she isn’t eating well. She doesn’t appear to own a car, and there is no record of an ex-boyfriend. I don’t know why I care, but I find her fascinating. Along with the fact that she is stunning, and my cock noticed .

What I would give to film some content with her. I haven’t filmed in so long, as I no longer need to. In the early days of View4U, I put out content to get the app moving. While Ridge made me use a fucking skull mask to hide my identity, it was still some of the most fun I have ever had—even Ridge joined in. I shake the memories from my head.

Chasing girls in masks is not my kink, chasing men is.

They are less fragile, and I love the hunt, but I would make an exception for her.