I returned to the bedroom and dropped my bottoms before I got in beside him. The plush mattress was much better than the lumpy couch in the other room, and the soft sheets were the perfect cocoon to keep me warm and comfortable. But the tension emitting from his hard body took away the feeling of contentment.

  I didn’t bother talking about it. Addressing the thing we were both thinking about would just piss him off. I’d come to learn that silence was the best medicine, at least with him.

  “You might find him charming, but I find him despicable. He’s the reason I don’t have a mother. He’s the reason I’m irreparably fucked up. He’s the reason I feel so empty. He’s the reason I can be on a state-of-the-art yacht, surrounded by beautiful women, and feel utterly alone. He’s the reason I can’t give you what you want.”

  I turned onto my side so I could look at him, see him lying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling.

  “I hate him.” It came out as a whisper, but it still packed a serious punch.

  “He’s not the reason you feel this way, Cauldron. You are.”

  He turned his head to look at me.

  “I know it’s hard, but…you have to let it go.”

  His eyes shone with betrayal.

  “Hating your father won’t bring back your mother. Giving him another chance will enhance her memory. He probably has stories about her that you’ve never heard. Knows things about her that you never knew. I’m sure your mother would want the three of you to be together, despite what happened.”

  “Grave isn’t her son.”

  “But he’s your brother—and that’s good enough.”

  He looked at the ceiling again.

  “Your father loves you.”

  He was still.

  “And I can tell he still loves your mother. You can see it in his face every time you mention her. He still carries that grief. You hate him for what he’s done…but I doubt you could ever hate him more than he hates himself.”

  “But I could try,” he said coldly.

  My hand reached for his torso under the blanket. “Or you could try to be happy—with me.”

  “It’s complicated…”

  “It’s not that complicated, Cauldron. The only reason you’re unhappy is because you choose to be.”

  “You know I still hear her screams? All this time later?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “In my dreams… Happens at least once a week.”

  “I think about the moment my mother passed away every day. I remember the instant her hand went limp when she took her last breath. I remember how pale her face was. I remember how weak she was. I remember the first time I slept with a man for money. I remember the first time a man beat me once he was done with me. I remember all the horrific things that happened to me—but that doesn’t stop me from being happy with you.”

  He released a heavy breath, his eyes focused on the ceiling.

  “You have to move forward, Cauldron. Otherwise…this is all there is.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  GRAVE

  “You need to be careful, Grave.” My father sat across from me in the booth at the bar, a cigar in his hand.

  I drew the smoke into my mouth and let it sit there a moment, just savoring the taste before I released it again. I didn’t smoke cigarettes because they didn’t have the taste of a cigar, and they were for pussies anyway. “I’m always careful.”

  “Not just going after Roan. But from Karl coming after you.”

  “Men are always trying to kill me, Father.”

  “And you’ve been lucky up until this point.”

  I gave a chuckle before I pulled another cloud into my mouth. “Trust me, it’s not luck.” Camille saved my ass that night. She picked up that gun and fired. That wasn’t luck to me.

  “I saw your brother last week.”

  “Yeah?”

  “He agreed to the four of us having dinner.”

  “Four?”

  “Including Camille.”

  My throat soured at the thought. “Make it five. I’m bringing someone.”

  “The pissing contest continues?”

  I ignored the question.

  “If you need to bring a woman to prove you’re over another woman, then you aren’t over the woman.”

  “Thanks for the observation.” I grabbed the glass in front of me and took a drink. It was a quiet night in Paris. Raindrops splattered the windows. The pavement outside was dark. People covered in umbrellas passed along the sidewalks.

  “I think he loves her.” He stared at me, waiting for the reaction he provoked.

  “I’m sure he thinks that too.” I set the glass down, the burn dripping from my throat to my stomach.

  “You don’t think it’s real?”

  “I think the high will fade quicker than he realizes.”

  “I thought the two of you buried the hatchet.”

  “We have.” Camille was dead to me. Now I had a far better woman to keep my bed warm.

  “Then why does it sound like you want this relationship to fail?”

  “I don’t. I just know my brother. He was only interested in her because of me. Now that he sees me interested in someone else, the victory will grow stale, and so will his desire. He’ll be back to his old ways.”

  “I hope you’re wrong. Cauldron hasn’t been happy in a long time.”

  “And he’s not happy now.”

  My relationship with my father was different from the ones other men had with theirs. Nothing was off-limits. Murder. Money. Sex. It was all on the table. The details were spared, but the subjects were broached. That was why we got along so well.

  My coat was sprinkled with raindrops before I got into the back seat of the car. My driver immediately headed to my apartment, and I pulled out my phone and made a call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  A door closed. Noises turned muffled. Her voice returned a moment later. “How can I help you, Grave?”

  “Free tonight?”

  “I’m spending time with my kids.”

  “They’ve got to go to sleep sometime, right?”

  A quiet chuckle came over the phone. “I guess I didn’t satisfy you the other night.”

  “You never satisfy me.”

  “I guess I’m not very good at my job.”

  “Too good, actually.”

  There was a pause. We shared the silence.

  She spoke again. “I can’t leave them alone, even when they’re asleep.”

  “Then I’ll come to you.”

  “I don’t have clients sleep over.”

  “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  She turned quiet.

  “Come on, sweetheart.”

  To my surprise, she caved. “Come by in two hours. I’ll text you the address.”

  I parked at the curb then walked up the stairs to the front door. The lights upstairs were off, but the ones below were visible through the closed curtains. I texted her my arrival then waited for her to open the door.

  When she did, she pressed a finger to her lips to hush me.

  I entered her living room, seeing an elegant sitting area with white couches and a gray rug. There were pictures on the walls and in the entryway, of a boy and a girl who looked to be six and eight. I didn’t let my eyes linger out of fear it’d make her uncomfortable.

  She took my hand and guided me across the living room to a bedroom. The stairs must lead to the second floor where her kids slept. The bedroom was like the rest of the house, decorated with elegance, with classy French taste.

  She pressed her fingers to her lips.

  I didn’t like talking anyway.

  I stripped off my coat and the rest of my clothes, and she watched me with hungry eyes. Maybe it was just part of her job, to act like a woman who wanted to get fucked, but I chose to believe it was real. When I stripped off her clothes, I felt the heat ignite me. With every piece of skin revealed, it was like another log on the fire. I guided her to the bed and sank between her thighs, making myself right at home inside that slick pussy. She was already wet when I walked in the door, so she must have lubed up before I got there or was just ready to go. I held myself on top of her, savoring the tightness around my dick in forced silence.

  “Quiet,” she said against my lips.

  I started to rock into her, but the bed creaked when I moved too much. It forced me to slow my pace, to keep our bodies close and tight. Our breaths became the loudest noises we made, and there was nothing we could do to sheathe them.

  She was folded underneath me, nails sharp against my shoulder blades, her hips working to meet my thrusts in silent unison. She pulled me close and breathed next to my mouth, her breaths slowly rising to writhing whispers. “God, you feel so good…”

  I suppressed my moan as best as I could, but it came out as a loud breath.

  She tugged on me tighter, her hand dragging down my back until she held on to one cheek. She yanked me into her, forcing me to speed up so she could take my dick how she wanted. The bed creaked. The headboard quietly hit the wall. She heard all of it, but she still tugged on me anyway.

  “Yes…yes.” Her head rolled back, and she whimpered in pleasure, squeezing tears out of her eyes. Her breaths rose to moans. Moans that were distinct and loud, possibly loud enough to be audible outside the door.

  My mouth sealed over hers, and I kissed her, tasted her tears, swallowed the pleasure my throbbing dick provided.

  She moaned through her kisses, sliced up my back like she was trying to climb a mountain with her bare hands. We rocked together the whole way, and I couldn’t wait for her performance to finish before I released. With my mouth still on hers, I came. I filled her with the load I’d been anxious to give her the last two hours.

  The climax came and went, but her lips still caressed mine. The kiss continued as her fingers made their way into my hair. She pulled the strands gently as she gave me her tongue, as she kissed me like the night had just begun rather than ended. She could kiss as good as she could fuck, and I found myself ready to go again.

  “Fuck me again…just like that.”

  When the fun was done, she lay there like she could fall asleep. Her sexy body was on top of the bed, all her curves on display in the limited streetlight that came through the closed curtains from the window above her bed. My shoulder was her pillow, and my body was her heater.

  I knew I should leave, but it was hard to walk away from a woman like that.

  When her breathing deepened, I knew she’d fallen asleep.

  Didn’t want to be a dick, but I had to. “Sweetheart.”

  Her eyes flashed open immediately.

  “I should get going.”

  “You’re right.” She sat upright, her hair falling down her back. “Whenever I’m with you, I’m out like a light. But when I’m alone, I’m an insomniac…” She ran her fingers through her hair, flipping it to the other side. Her eyes were tired, her makeup smeared from the sweat and the sleep.

  “Why can’t you sleep?” I sat up next to her, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder.

  “Can’t turn off my mind, I guess.” She left the bed, her petite frame moving to the clothes she’d tossed. She pulled her thong over her perfect ass then turned to me, perky tits on display.

  How did a woman look like that after having two babies?

  She clasped her bra closed behind her back and pulled the straps over her shoulders. “So, what made you want to stop by tonight?”

  “You.”

  A slight smirk moved on to her lips. “Had to be more than that.”

  I held her gaze, thinking about the conversation with my father. “Rough night.”

  “And rough nights make you horny.”

  “More like lonely.”

  She pulled her shirt over her head and looked at me, her eyes softened with pity. “I get lonely too.”

  “I don’t see how a mother of two does.”

  “I’m their mother. Not their friend.” She sat beside me on the bed, fully dressed while I was still naked. “And even with a nanny, being a mother is hard. Really hard. It would be nice to have someone to share it with. Someone who cares about all those little things.”

  “You mean it would be nice to have a man.”

  “I guess.”

  “You could find someone if you broke your rule.”

  She stared ahead, her mind far away. “I don’t know…”

  “You’re beautiful, Elise. You could have any man you wanted.”

  She turned to look at me, her eyes searching my gaze. “You think?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even with what I do for a living?”

  “I think it’s irrelevant. Assuming you aren’t still doing it.”

  She looked away again.

  Right now, she was a very different woman than I remembered. She was usually feisty and abrasive, no-nonsense and no emotion. And now she said things I could hardly believe. “I can’t afford my life without this job. I’m stuck.”

  “Your man will provide what you need.”

  She smiled slightly.

  “What?”

  “Not all men are like you, Grave.”

  “Like me, how?”

  “They don’t say those kinds of things.”

  Unsure what to say, I continued to stare at her.

  She sat there, legs crossed, hands on her lap. “We only have two weeks left.”

  I tried not to think about the expiration date. Elise was a great distraction. A great lover. Even a great friend. I paid a fortune for her time, and I’d pay double that to keep this going.

  “I don’t want it to end,” she whispered.

  I stared at the side of her face, seeing the way her eyes glazed over like I wasn’t even there. “Neither do I.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  ELISE

  I said goodbye to my kids then got into the car Grave sent for me. After a short drive, I arrived at his Parisian apartment, escorted into the elevator before I arrived in his parlor. His butler was there to take my coat and offer a glass of champagne, even though it was just a Tuesday night. “Mr. Toussaint will be out shortly.” He dismissed himself and left me alone in the parlor with a tray of small appetizers and the bottle on ice. It all looked delicious, but I couldn’t eat a single thing, not this late in the evening.

  I heard Grave’s angry voice from down the hallway but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Seemed to be on the phone with someone. I sipped my champagne and waited, his voice growing louder than flatlining.

  This should be a fun evening.

  He emerged into the hallway a moment later, in nothing but gray sweatpants low on his hips. His enormous torso was visible because he was shirtless, bulky and shredded at the same time. He was barefoot too, completing the sexy, I-don’t-give-a-fuck look. I was about to take another drink from my glass until my eyes became glued to his mass, seeing him move toward me like a bull shark in the deep ocean.

  Couldn’t believe I was getting paid to sink my teeth into that.

  His eyes locked to mine as he moved down the hallway and entered the parlor.

  I finally let the champagne slide onto my tongue.

  “Sweetheart.” His arm slid around my waist effortlessly, and with one big hand on my ass, he pulled me in for a kiss. A kiss that took the champagne right off my lips. He had to angle his body down to meet mine as he stood over six feet, and even my heels couldn’t compete.

  I hadn’t expected that kind of affection, and I literally felt weak in the knees. My glass almost tumbled out of my loose fingers and shattered on his thin rug.

  He gave my ass another squeeze before he pulled away.

  My lips felt cold the second he was gone, and like waking up from a dream, I forgot my reality.

  “Let me get dressed.”

  As in, put more clothes on? “Uh, why?” I blurted.

  His eyes shifted back and forth between mine before a handsome smirk moved into his face. “We’re going out.”

  “Must we?”

  The smirk turned into a full smile, and it was the first time I’d ever seen it. He was always quiet and brooding, a living statue that could say a couple words. It was a nice look on him, a beam of sunshine in his shadow. “What did you have in mind?”

  I set the glass down and gave his body a shove.

  He fell into the armchair behind him, his smirk long gone now.

  I hiked up my dress and straddled his hips. His bottoms were pulled down, and my panties were yanked to the side. Anxiously, we came together, both of us releasing a pleasurable moan at the same time. His butler would probably walk in at some point, but I didn’t care what he saw.

  My little body sheathed his big dick, and it hurt so good. We were near the windows, the skyline of Paris visible behind us. It was hard for both of us to fit in that little chair, especially him, but we made it work. Up and down, I moved, moaning every time I took that dick inside me.

  He gripped my hips and ass as he followed my pace, his eyes focused on mine, his dick rock hard as if he liked everything I was doing. He grabbed the strap of my dress and yanked it over my shoulder, stretching the fabric so he could get one of my tits out. Then his mouth was on me, kissing my collarbone and shoulder, his big hands tugging me inside him over and over. We turned into animals, grasping and pulling on whatever we could find. My hips hooked around his neck, and I kissed him as I felt the fire between my legs. He felt so damn good, so much better than anyone else ever had. With quivering lips, I came. My hips bucked, my nails clawed, my eyes shed tears…it all happened in a rush of feeling. “Grave…”

  With his forehead against mine, he came, a subtle moan that couldn’t compete with my cries and tears. His fingers dug into my ass, and once he was finished, he gave me a hard smack, hard enough to leave a subtle mark.

  I didn’t mind in the least.

  “Now are you ready to go?” he asked, his dick still hard inside me.

  I pulled down the zipper at the back of the dress and pulled it over my head.

 

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