Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2) (25 page)

Darcey stumbled over her feet, barely catching herself before she went down face first. “Pay their…respects?”

The other woman didn’t hear Darcey since the words had come out an inaudible wheeze. They rounded the corner, and Darcey stopped so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. There, in the middle of the living room, surrounded by people, was Al’s pale, lifeless body, laid out on a hospital style bed, covers tucked across his chest like he was sleeping.

“When did it happen?” she rasped.

“Early this morning.” The house keeper moved up beside her. “They’re picking him up at noon.”

Darcey reached for the doorframe and the other woman made a comforting sound, leading her to a chair. Darcey didn’t want to sit down in the same room as that fucker’s dead body. Kick the shit out of it, maybe. Mourn his death, no goddamn way.

The only thing on her mind right then was how this would affect her and Noah. Al may have been a raging asshole, but he’d been a kind of buffer between her and Len.

Surely Len wouldn’t be the one to take over the business. Al would never leave it to his incompetent younger brother, would he?

She stumbled to her feet, and every pair of eyes in the room slid to her, including—oh God—Len’s. She hadn’t even noticed him when she’d walked in, all the faces nothing but a blur in her surprise and shock.

Len smirked at her, pushed away from the wall he was leaning against, and strode her way.

Spinning, Darcey bolted for the door, but he caught her arm before she could make her escape, dragging her away from everyone and shoving her into the first room they came to.

It was Al’s office. The smell of leather and cigar smoke hung in the air. Len kept pushing her until she collided with the large mahogany desk in the middle if the room.

“What are you doing here, Darcey?” He gave her a shake. “I know it isn’t to pay your respects. I know for a fact you won’t be cut up over Al’s passing.”

Going by his flushed cheeks and excited glint in his eyes, he wasn’t cut up, either.

“You’re taking over, aren’t you?” The words slipped past her lips before she could leash them.

He searched her gaze. “You didn’t know, did you?” He chuckled darkly. “You came to rat me out to my big brother. And instead you found a corpse.”

He moved in closer, pressing his hips against hers.

“Sorry, sweets. Looks like you’re shit out of luck.” A grin spread across his face. “Face it. No one cares about you. Al sure as hell didn’t. You really think it was him that wanted to keep you around? That he just couldn’t run his business without you?” He shook his head. “He kept you around because I asked him to, because I wanted you for myself. He found you useful sometimes, that’s it.”

She was going to be sick. “Noah…” His name slipped past her lips.

Her brother was stuck with this asshole because of some sick obsession he had with her? That’s why they’d suffered, why he’d torn them apart…so he could choose his moment. So he could manipulate her into being his fuck toy.

“You sick son of a bitch,” she rasped.

“Just say the word.” His fingers flexed around her arm. “You could be with him whenever you want. Move back into the house with me…”

She yanked her arm free and shoved past him. Pulling open the door, she ran for the nearest exit. She couldn’t speak, her throat so tight she could barely draw breath.

His voice echoed after her. “You have one week to agree to my conditions, or things get ugly.”

She ignored him, didn’t turn back. If she saw that smug fucking face one more time, she might commit murder. Pick up the closest blunt object and bludgeon him to death right there on the doorstep.

Her life, as shitty as it was, was over. Her options had dried up.

Either never see her brother again, or become Len’s sex slave.

She dry heaved but made it to her car without disgracing herself. She didn’t have much left, but she had her pride.

Even if it was only for one more week.

~ * ~

The beat was fast and loud, so loud Darcey couldn’t hear herself think.

Which was the point.

The bass vibrated up through the soles of her sneakers as she moved, her heart pounding in time. She had no idea how long she’d been at the club—hours? It had to be. First she’d gone for a run, but even the sounds of the city couldn’t drown out that bastard’s voice, couldn’t swallow the echo of Noah calling her name as Edith slammed the door in her face.

If she kept dancing, kept her eyes closed, stayed exactly where she was—she could block it all out—she could stop the nightmare forcing its way through the darkness from becoming her reality.

Someone moved in close, touched her. A second later, they were gone. She didn’t need to open her eyes to see who had chased them away. Joe had been doing it all night. He’d been there almost as long as she had. He hadn’t approached or even talked to her. He’d just watched from a distance, making sure she got what she needed. Making sure no one bothered her. He probably thought he knew what had driven her here tonight—that this was about Noah.

And he was right. She missed him beyond reason. But now her situation, that had already been unbearable, had gotten a million times worse. Now she knew why Len had kept Noah instead of handing him over to her.

Her belly rolled. Joe could never know.

He had a short fuse, and she knew if he found out what Len had planned for her, he’d go after him. He’d risk everything—put himself in danger for her. He’d try and protect her. Like he was doing now.

God, she didn’t deserve that kind of loyalty. She could never return it. Not now.

Their time together was coming to an end. She’d always known it would happen, but she’d stupidly ignored it. Had let herself sink deeper.

Would he hate her for selling herself to that bastard for her brother? Would he understand she had no choice?

Breathing suddenly became difficult, a knot forming in her belly. She couldn’t waste a second of the time she had left with him.

One week. That’s all they had.

It was selfish, but she couldn’t walk away from him, not until their time was up. She’d soak up everything he gave her until then—every bit of pleasure, affection, laughter—and lock it all away.

She stopped dancing and turned to where she knew he was standing. She expected to see him leaning against the wall, arms folded casually, taking in the busy club. She was wrong.

He stood at the edge of the dance floor, dark eyes locked on her, tall frame held ridged, fists clenched at his sides. And his expression? The only word she could come up with was anguish. She’d done that, caused that look on his face. He looked like a warrior ready to do battle, to destroy anyone that even thought about going near her.

Staying away from her, not knowing how to help her, was hurting him. Not being able to fix her messed up life, to make it better, killed him. Joe Colton was just that kind of guy. A man who would do anything for his close friends and family. Who protected those people he cared about most.

Somehow, she’d become one of those people.

Darcey’s eyes locked with his.

Now that she knew what it was like to have him, how would she survive without him?

She quickly shoved down that thought. No way could she go there tonight. Instead, she let herself get swept up in the emotions welling inside her. Joe was already moving toward her before she’d taken a step in his direction, scooping her up as soon as he reached her. His mouth found hers a second later, and he kissed her, hard and hungry. Claiming.

God, she wanted to be his.

Finally, he pulled back, eyes searching hers, hands cupping her face. “You ready to go?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and let everything she was feeling for him in that moment shine though. “Take me home, Joe.”

His slid his thumb over her cheek. “Whatever you need, baby.”

Then he grabbed her hand and led her from the club.

~ * ~

Joe didn’t know what the hell had happened between leaving Darcey curled up in bed and now. But something had caused her to seek an escape. When he’d finally found her back in that club, he’d nearly lost his goddamn mind.

Thankfully, this time, she hadn’t been drinking. Shit, the woman was still in her running gear.

What the fuck was going on?

He glanced at her again, trying to read her. He’d never seen that expression on her face before, so he had no hope of deciphering it.

She was starting to scare the hell out of him.

Whatever had driven her into that place was a lot more than just missing her brother, he knew that much. He’d wanted to drag it out of her, make her tell him what was wrong. But he knew her well enough now to know she wouldn’t give him a damn thing, not until she was ready.

Waiting her out was getting harder and harder, though.

Staying back and not dragging her into his arms as soon as he’d found her in that club had been bad enough—but now, with the way she was gripping his hand while he led her up the stairs to her place, the way she leaned in like she was seeking warmth—it was fucking killing him.

Darcey was tough as hell, and right now, she was seeking comfort
from him
. The kicker was he didn’t know how the fuck to give it to her. Which demons she was fighting. He just wished she trusted him enough to let him in.

He took the key from her trembling hand when they reached her door and let them in. Then led her straight to the bathroom. If she was cold, he wanted to warm her, get close to her, take care of her. That’s what Darcey needed tonight. She needed to let go, someone else to do the thinking, to take charge for once. He wanted to give her that freedom, even if it was only for tonight.

He turned on the shower, then stripped. She watched him, her eyes wide, haunted.

Jesus.
He was a mess of emotions. Red hot rage pounded at him, urged him to hurt whoever had done this—mixed with the unstoppable, almost fierce need to protect, to take care of the woman standing in front of him.
His woman
.

“Come here, sweetheart.” She met him halfway, and he stripped her down, as well. “Turn around.”

She did as he asked, and he removed her hair tie so her long dark hair fell free, sliding down her back. Tonight she seemed so damn small and fragile. Just looking at her made his chest ache.

Taking her hand again, they climbed in. He turned her around so the water soaked her. Then he moved behind her, squirted some shampoo onto his palm, and started massaging it into the soft silky strands.

She moaned softly, leaning into him, but didn’t speak. She’d barely said a word since they left the club. He’d let her have her way. If she needed to not speak, he’d give her that—for now, at least.

“Tilt your head back, Peaches.” He rinsed out the shampoo and got to work on the conditioner.

His dick was impossibly hard by the time he’d finished washing her hair, but he ignored it. His dick would have to get over it. Tonight wasn’t about sex, it was about giving the woman he loved the comfort she needed.

The woman he loved.

Well, fuck. There was no denying it. He loved her. Had loved her for longer than he’d allowed himself to acknowledge.

He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest, burying his face against the wet skin at the side of her throat. Shit, his whole fucking body trembled, his knees weaker than he’d like them to be. God, what she did to him…

He kissed her neck, and stepped away before he did more than just hold her. Grabbing the soap, he lathered up a washcloth and began running it gently over her body.

It was torture, but he could deal. No sex. Not tonight…

She turned in his arms, pressing her soapy tits against him, her soft belly cradling his aching dick, and looked up at him.

He had to lock his knees so he didn’t fall on his ass.

“I need you,” she whispered, then pressed her cheek to his chest before turning her head and kissing him there.

“Darcey…”

“Please.”

With that one word, all his resolve washed down the drain. He was so damn weak where she was concerned, would give her almost anything she wanted. But when she reached for his cock, it wasn’t fucking easy, but he stilled her hand and shook his head. Instead, he gently pushed her back a step so she was leaning against the tiled wall and dropped to his knees.

He looked up at her. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

Her lids lowered—her hand going to the side of his face, thumb moving over his cheek in a way that made his chest feel tight—and did what he asked.

Leaning in, he nuzzled her, drawing in her scent, then gripping her hips, he sucked the sweet, soft skin just above her clit. He moved in closer, feeling fucking near drugged, dizzy. His heart pounded as he shuffled forward on his knees, worshiping this woman,
his woman
, with his mouth. Carefully, he lifted each of her thighs over his shoulders. Gripping her ass cheeks tighter, he slid his tongue through her slick lips, over her tight opening, groaning at her taste. He couldn’t get enough. Never enough.