End Game (21 page)

“I’m really sorry.” My fingers tentatively reach out for his face, still frozen in stony disapproval, and sweep under his jaw. He doesn’t throw off my hand, which I take as a good sign. The stubble scratches my palm as I wrap my hand around his neck, my fingers brushing over the hair at the back of his neck. “How can I make it up to you?”

When he speaks, I feel his voice through my hand.

“It’ll take a lot of work on your end.”

“Joe, I’m serious. I don’t want you to hate me, too.”

“Why do you care?”

My throat is thick. A sharp pain suddenly pounds through my skull. “You’re the only person in my life who’s looking out for me.”

The muscles in his face loosen up. “I’m not going to be your hero, Marisa. If they decide that you’re dead, that’s what’s going to happen. I can’t stop it.”

When I look at him, I still believe that he’ll do anything in his power to help me. Maybe that’s delusional.

“I know that you care about me on some level.”

His hand tightens over my wrist. “Shut up.” He growls the insult right before his biting lips and teeth fall over my mouth. His body sinks into mine and I relish at the contact. The movements of his hands on my skin are rough. He pins me on his bed, his weight pressing into me. The somber expression he wears is replaced by a mad frenzy. He grabs my jaw and squeezes hard as he pulls back, looking enraged for some reason that completely escapes me.

“When I found out about my sister’s death, the first thing I wanted to do was torture and kill the prick who did it, but he was in jail. Unreachable. So for a long time, I did that for Jack, until every human feeling was purged from my body. I wanted to do it. It was an outlet for my rage, even though I got a bit carried away at times and went too far. Then I found out he had a brother and put him in the hospital. I didn’t kill him, but I wanted to. Even though he had nothing to do with what happened to my sister. That’s the kind of man I am.”

Joe’s horrifying confession steals the breath from my voice. He gives me a black look, unrecognizable from the charming, sensitive man I’ve spent so much time with.

What if it was an act? It was all an act to deceive me, so that he could fuck me and get close to me.

I’ve no time to process this horrifying theory, because Joe relinquishes my jaw and rummages in the nightstand for something. A metallic sound makes my blood chill.

“No, don’t!”

“I don’t trust you.”

He takes one of my wrists and slaps the handcuffs on until they cut into my skin. He attaches the other end to his headboard. I yank against it, only succeeding in hurting myself.

Joe stretches his length down his bed and props his head on his hand, looking at me wolfishly. “I could get used to seeing you tied up like this.”

The fallen photos, the gun sitting on the coffee table, the shattered glass sitting in his living room, and the wolfish grin he gives me—they’re all pieces from a shattered mind. “You’re really,
really
sick.”

“Yes, I am. I also want you really fucking bad right now.”

I can tell by looking at the hard bulge in his pants. I get a strange thrill out of it, and then I wonder if I’m sick, too. He slides up against me and I shiver from his closeness. Light fingers trace my collarbone and dip down to my blouse.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap
.

He destroys button after button, his fingers teasing my skin as he works down. It’s hell. I don’t want to feel anything but revulsion for him, but he brings me a fucking intense emotional high. It’s like a switch flipping in my brain, and I forget everything about him that’s supposed to scare me. If that’s evolution, then I’m headed for extinction.

He leans over my body and his lips fall on mine, kissing me under my head and down my neck, to the swell of my breasts. His tongue swirls around my flesh and the room echoes with my harsh gasps. Suddenly, he unclasps my bra and pushes the strap off my unhooked arm, along with my blouse. The high reaches a crescendo as he grabs my breasts. His teeth bite down hard, and it’s painful, but the red mark swelling on them reminds me that I’m his, and my pussy builds with heat when I realize what that means.

Electricity shoots from his lips into my body as he kisses a trail down my stomach, biting hard along the way, until he stops at my slacks. He suddenly cups my pussy, feeling the heat under his hands. He looks up, grinning at my flushed face.

“You just can’t resist me, can you?”

“No.”

He plants a kiss on my stomach as he unzips my pants and tugs. They catch on my thighs, the slippery fabric offering slight resistance as he pulls them down my legs. It feels like his hands are caressing me. My panties swiftly follow suit; a thrill beating in my chest as they slide off my ankles and fall off. He spreads my legs apart, the air stinging the place between my legs. He plants a kiss on my upper thigh, and I tremble. It’s much too close.

Then he slides his thumb over my incredibly wet clit, and he lets out another chuckle.

“I guess you like being tied up.”

“No, I just like you.”

A smirk spreads on his face. “I like you, too. Especially this part of you.”

His head disappears between my legs and my heart is like a ping-pong ball in my chest. Oh, fuck. I can feel his hot breath billowing over my pussy, and I contract hard. What’s he doing?

And then I feel it. It’s the most incredible sensation I’ve ever experienced. His hard wet tongue reaches all the way back and licks me.

“Oh, Joe!”

I scream out his name, my reaction visceral. I can’t control it any more than I can control him. His tongue massages my clit as one hand keeps my thighs apart, the other spreads over my stomach. Holy shit.
Holy shit.
His hot mouth closes over my clit and he sucks, and I arch my back again.

“No, don’t! Please!”

It’s too much. It’s torture. His tongue actually slides inside me, burying deep, sliding out to flick my clit hard. Then he closes his mouth over me and sucks hard. My legs tighten around his head and I jerk against my restraint. Part of me wants him to never stop, the other, louder part wants him to just fuck me already. I feel my juices running down my thighs, into his mouth. The sucking, wet noises drive me mad.

“Joe, I need you.
Oh, God
. I need you.”

“I know.” I feel his breath on me. His lips transfer to my inner thigh, and he sucks hard until there’s a bright mark.

“Please!”

Begging seems to have a profound effect on him. He sits up and tears off his shirt, removing his pants and briefs just as quickly, and then my legs wrap around his waist. I feel the cleft of his cock, pressing between my legs. Intense ecstasy fills my lungs with a sigh as he slides in, his body covering mine. Joe’s face descends over mine, taut with the effort of restraining himself. I take his wet lips in mine, tasting myself as his tongue forces through my lips. He doesn’t let me go, even when I moan.

The force of him rutting me deep knocks the breath out of my lungs. It steals it away and lifts me high. His cock pulses, ramming me so hard that my head hits the headboard. He pulls my shoulders down and holds me still, fucking me as grunts of pleasure explode from his mouth. My legs lift up to his shoulders and I feel him stabbing my insides. I’ve never given myself so completely to a man—never been able to hand it over like this. Never wanted to, either. He keeps shattering everything I think I know about myself. I thought I knew enough, but I didn’t know shit. I didn’t know how amazing he’d feel. Every movement he makes is calculated to emphasize our senses. The sound of his voice, ragged with desire for me, makes me want to come.

“You feel so fucking amazing.”

My free arm wraps around his waist, seizing his bare ass and digging my nails into his muscles. I clench myself hard as he buries himself, unable to fight the roaring pressure inside me. I fall apart in his arms, coming around him, yanking on the sharp handcuff.

Joe’s lips fasten on mine, swallowing my moans as he pushes down on my chest, my legs wrapping around him again. His face transforms into something much more vulnerable. He looks younger. The stoic mask finally slips away and he gives himself to me, breaking down in a series of shuddering gasps as he slams into me. His legs shake and I feel warmth spreading inside me. Joe bites my ear and sighs, his body collapsing over mine.

I sweep the strands of hair away from his face and kiss his wet forehead. His head lies on my shoulder, his cock still buried inside me as it jerks with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Then he pushes himself away from me, his body stretching out almost as if it was on display for me. His head rests on the pillow next to me, and he gives me a look I’ve never seen before.

It almost makes me feel cherished.

He reaches out and touches my face, the side that’s still bruised and hurting. Joe opens his mouth as though he wants to say something, but he can’t quite do it. He slips out of bed and I turn around, the happiness emptying out of me. The orgasm took away all excitement and left me with crushing reality. Joe flips a switch without saying a word and I’m bathed in darkness. Then I feel safe. A tear burns down my cheek, and then another. I bite my lip to keep from whimpering, but my chest shakes and the slightest sound escapes through my lips.

He slides back into bed, moving too close to me. A heavy arm wraps around my waist and pulls me into his chest. Then his lips brush against my neck. It’s almost like he’s mouthing something against my skin, but the hand brushing my skin feels like an apology.

* * *

My arm hurts like hell.

I shift it in another position, but metal digs into my wrist and I wince. My eyes, crusted with tears, open in the early darkness to see my wrist still attached to the handcuffs. I twist around in the bed, but Joe isn’t there. I strain my ears, and I can’t hear him in the apartment.

Maybe I should try to get the hell out of here.

Fire blazes in my chest, filling me with energy as I envision myself sprinting out of his apartment, straight to the police. Even Joe admitted that he wouldn’t be able to help me, even if he wanted to.

How far would I get, really?

I sink back into the bed as pressure builds behind my eyes again. It’s everywhere, sitting on my chest and on both sides of my skull, crushing me.

My father.

He fucking did this to me. I hate them all: Jack, Vincent, Jamie, and that bastard who hit me, but I feel a mixture of loathing and heart-wrenching betrayal for my dad. He could have named my brother as the owner of the company, and he’d be in this mess. He would’ve probably handled it better. I was chosen because I was disposable. Easily replaced. Dad did not give a
fuck
about me.

I yank on the chain again, gritting my teeth when it bites into my skin. It gouges a deep, red mark into my skin, and I revel in the pain of it. It’s so much better than crying, and I hate myself more than anything for allowing this to happen.

The only glimmer of happiness in my life is also my jailer. How fucked up is that?

My wrist twists, and I grit my teeth hard as it stabs through my skin. I’ve hardly made any progress. In the kitchen, I heard the scuff of feet and I freeze, holding in my breath as if he can hear that, too.

Joe walks into the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs.

Hot.

I want to kiss that line of dark hair leading from his flat abdomen to the tempting bulge hidden under a thin layer of cotton. The smooth look of unconcern is back on his face, but he walks around the bed, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Looks like you’re still
tied up
.” He laughs at his little joke.

“Oh, ha-ha. Can you uncuff me, please? I need to pee. And I need a shower.”

He sits down next to me and my heartbeat starts to pick up. I have a very nice view of him. He’s all lean muscle, and ruggedly handsome, and the bastard knows it.

“Hm.” A broad hand smoothes over my stomach, over my breasts to squeeze them slightly. It freezes. “You fucked up your wrist.”

Joe sighs angrily as he retrieves the key from the nightstand on the other side. He quickly unlocks it and I hiss in pain as it unsticks from my raw flesh. He touches it gently, soothing fingers moving over the raw, circular lines.

“Thanks.”

I sit up next to him and get up without another word as he lets his hand fall. He follows me out the door and right into the bathroom. I turn around on him incredulously.

“You’re going to watch me pee?”

His beautifully carved shoulders shrug. “I’m not taking any chances with you.”

“This is fucking ridiculous. What do you think I’ll do?”

Dark eyes watch me. “You did pull my own gun on me. I don’t trust you. Not by a long shot.”

Anger bubbles in my chest as I watch him fold his arms over his chest. I march to the toilet and lift up the lid. Joe tries to retreat a respectful distance, but no matter how you cut it, it’s awkward as fuck when someone’s looking at you. I try to flush as I’m peeing so that he can’t hear anything.

When I’m done, he’s still there, looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I slide back the shower door and twist the knobs, waiting until heat pours from the nozzle until I step back inside.

My head lifts up as the hot spray singes my body, easing the aches in my muscles and doubling the throbbing ache in my ankle. I grab the tall Dove liquid shampoo and lather my hands with it.

The shower door scrapes open and I almost slip when I see a completely naked Joe standing there. He pushes his way inside.

I find my voice somehow. “What’re you doing?”

He joins me under the spray, the water darkening his hair and trailing down his rippling muscles in little rivulets. The temperature of the shower seems to skyrocket. What was a pleasantly warm temperature is now a raging furnace.

Joe pins me against the glass wall and my back hits it with a resolute thud. He takes my head in his hands, and a devilish grin spreads over his face.

“I couldn’t resist.”

I’m glad that the shower’s heat gives me an excuse for my face to be red. The smile on his face makes me temporarily speechless. My breasts flatten against his chest and his head turns, his lips searching for me. “You shouldn’t.”