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“When it’s just me and you, then yes, but not with everyone else there too.”
“You could have just told me.”
Shrugging, I bite at my bottom lip, wanting to look away from his compelling eyes but knowing that I can’t, that I don’t really want to.
His lips take mine, startling me with the intensity and desperation of his kiss, and I lose myself and let him find me. “Let’s go home,” he whispers, when he finally releases me.
A soft smile spreads across my lips, and I nod, letting him gather the rest of my things and take me home, to his boat, his favorite place in the world, the place where I’m his.
29
HAWTHORN
It’s been a week since I freaked out and almost broke down Penelope’s hotel room door. Since then, she’s spent every night in my arms, and I’m pretty sure I’m unhealthily obsessed with her. Today’s the day that we’re going to leak the news that Trudy and Barnaby Rhodes are missing. It’s the first step in our revenge plan, and I’m eager to get the ball rolling.
The girls want to get into the house and start wreaking some havoc, and the rest of us are ready for some retribution too. Peering into the bathroom, I watch as she slicks a final coat of gloss over her pouty lips. Turning her head from side to side, she checks her reflection in the mirror, but she always looks perfect to me. Her hair’s up in a braid today, and I have to physically fight down the urge to gather it in my fist and drag her head back to kiss me.
This self-imposed sex ban is driving me insane, and I’m almost at the point where I’m considering just throwing her on the bed and fucking her until she understands that she’s indisputably mine. She’s as frustrated as me, and the constant sexual tension that’s flowing between us is almost unbearable. I started all this because I wanted her to be secure, and know without doubt that I want so much more from her than just her body. Only now, it’s become almost a war between us.
I want her to be with me fully, to be mine, and she wants me to just accept that she doesn’t know how to give me anything more and be okay with it.
If I were a different man, I’d give in, but I don’t want to accept just a part of her, I want all of her, and if I have to live with blue balls until she finally gives herself to me fully, I will.
Gulliver’s investigator found out that the Rhodeses are in Marrakesh under the pretense of meeting potential clients, but in reality, they’re just living in a palatial house on the beach and doing nothing other than robbing the rest of the world of useful oxygen.
Unlike celebrities, the people who inhabit the world of the upper ten percent of America’s richest families are not hampered by common paparazzi. But that doesn’t mean that the media has no interest in us. We used an article to help bring Izzy to the forefront of everyone’s minds, and we’re going to use another to splash the news that the girls’ parents are missing.
Our plan is to leak information to some of the smaller news outlets first, and then hope that with a little probing and the girls being seen visibly upset in the right places and by the right people, that the news will spread organically to the bigger outlets before it becomes front-page news.
By the time it reaches the Rhodeses’ notice and they make a statement to say they’re alive and well, we hope to have gotten access to the house and caused as many problems as possible.
“You ready, Princess?” I ask, stepping into the bathroom and immediately running my fingers along her exposed nape. I love it when she wears her hair up. I love being able to see the sexy curve of her neck, bare and ready for me to press my lips against, to nip and suck.
“I just need to finish my makeup.” She smiles, holding up a tube of something.
“Okay, cool, breakfast is ready.”
Her smile falls, but she forces it back into place and nods. “I’ll be right out.”
I hate that eating is an issue for her. She hasn’t had another meltdown like she did the first morning, but then I always make sure to tell her to eat and talk her down when she starts to spiral. I don’t know if it helps or not, but she always takes at least a few bites of everything I cook for her, even if it’s not as much as I’d like.
A few minutes later, she slides onto the stool next to mine and takes a sip of the coffee I’ve already made for her. The smile that spreads across her face is the sexiest thing in the world. Since the first time Izzy forced a cup into her hand, she’s drunk every coffee with full-fat caramel creamer, and although I don’t know for certain, I swear she’s saying a silent fuck you to her mom with every sip.
Since the day I used her naked body as my plate, I’ve discovered that Penelope has a sweet tooth. She’ll eat savory food if I encourage her, but it seems harder for her to resist anything sweet and sugary. I still order her a disgusting green juice laced with protein powder, avocado, and banana every day, but I also tried to tempt her with things her mother never allowed her to eat.
This morning, I don’t miss the flash of delight in her eyes when I slide the freshly cooked waffle drizzled with maple syrup and strawberries in front of her.
“You’re making me even more spoiled, cooking for me every day,” she grins, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, I like looking after you.”
“I can look after myself, you know,” she says, her fork poised over the plate.
“I know you can, but how about we take care of each other?”
Another soft smile lights up her face, and she nods, curling her arm around the back of my neck and kissing me again.
“Eat,” I say nodding to her plate, before reluctantly pulling away from her touch. “Today’s the day we finally get to kill your parents.”
