DrakeT he hospital doors slide open smoothly in front of us. Reese squeezes my hand. I glance down at her, and possessive pride bubbles inside me. This is my woman and only mine. It makes me sad that she must go through this pain. Thank God, I’m here tosupport her through it. She’ll never have to deal with anything like this on her own again. “Are you ready?”“Almost,” I say, and wrapping one arm around her waist and the other in her long hair, I pull her towards me. Caught off guard, she gasps and I claim her open mouth. Her fingers come up and grasp at my shirt trying to pull me closer, closer, and closer still. Her curvy body pushes into mine, molding herself against my hardness. All the passion and fervor I feel for her comes to the fore and all I want to do is pull her into a quiet corner and fuck her so hard she screams, but I don’t. I pull back and look into her eyes. They are glazed and heavy-lidded. Her lips are red, swollen, and slightly parted, as she takes short, quick b
ReeseAnother morning, another unfamiliar place for me to wake up in, but this time, the fact I’m somewhere new doesn’t throw me. In fact, it sends a shiver of joy down my back. I turn over to see Drake lying next to me, fast asleep and sprawled across the luxurious covers ofhis massive bed.It was last night that I officially moved into his apartment in the city. His place is great because it’s less than an hour’s drive from where Morgan is staying so I can be closer to her. I don’t know how much longer Morgan must stay in the hospital, but I hope she will be discharged soon. Now that we have found out her condition is treatable, I can’t wait for her to start living her life again.Drake drove down to pick up all my stuff, and we took a road trip across the country together. It’s something I will remember forever. It was like a dream. The sun was shining, and the wind was in my hair. We talked, we laughed, we ate, and when we just couldn’t keep our hands off each other anymore, we s
ReeseFeeling happy, ridiculously so, I put my key in the door and push it open. It’s been a week since I moved in with Drake and I’m still floating on a cloud of joy. The apartment is quiet. Drake is out visiting with his agent about a sponsorship deal for anew sneakers company. He’s glad to be back training again, even though he comes home every night exhausted. A couple of times he tried to sneak me into the locker rooms again, in the hopes of re- enacting our kinky first-time meeting, but we’ve had no luck so far. There have always been people around. Sometimes I wonder how fate works. How easily I got in and found him alone the first time, but now it’s almost impossible to find a moment when it is quiet.I dump my keys on the side table and kick off my formal shoes. I’ve just returned from an interview at one of the colleges I hope to attend in the new year. I’ve always been wary about pursuing something away from Dad and Morgan, for fear that they would need me, or that somethi
Thump, thump, thump. Fucking hell! Someone take my head out of the drum of this washing machine. The wash cycle continues as my cell phone vibrates against the surface of the bedside table. The sound is like a nail gun going crazy. I unglue my eyes. My lofty, gilded ceiling comes into view. I stretch out my arm, fumble around, locate the blasted thing, hold it over my face, and squint at it. The blue light from the screen blinds me. Screwing my eyes, I hit the green button and put it to my ear. “Boss, I’ve been pushing the bell for some time, and didn't get a response. Are you okay?” Semyon’s alarmed, booming voice tips the washing machine into the spin cycle. “What time is it?” “After seven, Boss.” “So?” “At night, Boss.” “What?” I took four pills and decided to lie down for a few minutes, but I must have been more wiped out than I thought. I should have been at the club by seven. “Bring the car around to the front in fifteen,” I instruct, pulling myself off the bed. My shoe
NIKOLAI Roman and Andrei, both over six foot five, retired Special Forces soldiers, and the most loyal and reliable of my security team, are already waiting outside the entrance of Zigurat. You’re thinking because I’m a Russian billionaire, it’s fancy and probably built in a pseudo pyramid style, aren’t you? Nah. The location is discreet, and it’s sandwiched between some plain, gray offices on a deserted backstreet. There are no bright lights to announce its existence. In fact, the nicest thing you could say about the entrance is it’s nondescript. No cameras, or reporters hanging around. Exactly the way I like it. We neither advertise nor court any attention. One has to be recommended by another member to enter, then there is a rigorous vetting process. Before a punter can step a foot through our door he must understand exactly what’s on offer inside … and the risks … of non-payment. This way there are no, well, let’s call it, misunderstandings. Roman opens my door. I slide out, a
StarQuietly, so I don’t wake Nigel, I slip out of bed. I tie my robe, lift my phone off the bedside table, and go downstairs. In the kitchen I switch on the coffee machine and set the dining table for two before pulling open the heavy curtains.Outside daylight is beginning to appear and I sigh with pleasure. The garden always looks best at this time of the year when the honeysuckle, freesia, sunflowers and roses are all out. I open the French doors and go out into the cool, fresh air. This is my favorite time of the day. When Nigel is asleep upstairs, the air is filled with the sounds of birds, and my mind can plot out my storyline. My phone rings. I take it out of my pocket and look at the screen.“Hi, Nan.”“Good morning, Love,” she greets brightly. Nan is like me. An early bird. Sometimes she’ll get up at five in the morning and start cleaning out the garden shed. It drives my granddad crazy.“You all right?” I ask.“Other than my dodgy knees and your granddad’s dodgy mouth, I’m
STARHis words don’t even register. I shake my head. I can’t have heard right. “What?” “Oh, darling,” he croons. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I can’t take it.”“What are you talking about, Nigel?” I ask slowly. “I’m an addict. I’m addicted to gambling,” he mutters. “Gambling?” I repeat stupidly.He nods, a pained expression on his face. “What? At work?”“No.” He exhales loudly. “In casinos.”I stare at him blankly. Nothing makes sense. We’ve been to a casino once. Two years ago. We sat together at a blackjack table. Nigel refused to play, but I did. He looked on with a slightly disapproving expression as I played three rounds and gleefully collected my winnings. Three hundred pounds. “But you don’t even like gambling!”He runs his fingers through his hair. “I like it too much.” “Since when?”He shrugs. “Recently. It started off as just a little fun, small amounts, letting off some stress. You know the intense stress I’m under in the city.”“Stress?” I echo.“You have no idea
StarHis words don’t make sense. My whole body feels like it is on fire. I’m an ordinary girl. I live an ordinary life. All of this is unbelievable stuff. Stuff of gangster movies.“He wants you,” he repeats glumly. “Me? What do you mean me?”He covers his face. “Fuck, Star. Do I have to spell it out to you? He wants you … your body.” I frown. “My body? Why would the owner of a gambling club want my body?”“You don’t need me to tell you why.”“But he doesn’t know who I am. I could be a frumpy, middle-aged housewife for all he knows.”His brow furrows. “I’m beginning to think that someone is jealous of me. They know that the most important thing in my life is you, and the best way to destroy me is to get to you.”Nigel goes on talking, but I stop hearing him.“He didn’t use the hammer because you agreed to let him have me, didn’t you?” I ask, my body crawling with revulsion.“No,” he denies, looking at me with wide eyes, and shaking his head vigorously.“Oh, my God. You damn coward. Th