GOLDEN WINGS & PRETTY

THINGS
FRACTURED RHYMES, BOOK 0.5
KAYLEIGH KING
Copyright © 2022 by Kayleigh King

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author,
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are
either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover Design: Cat Imb at TRC DESIGNS

Copy Editing: Ellie McLove MY BROTHER’S EDITOR

Copy Editing: Amanda Rash DRAFT HOUSE EDITORIAL SERVICES

Proof Reading: Rosa Sharon MY BROTHER’S EDITOR

 BLURB

I don’t often deny myself. If I want it, I’ll find a way to obtain it, not caring
what lines I have to cross.
She is the exception.
Indie is forbidden, a toy that isn’t mine to break but she is a pretty thing I’m
eager to play with.
For months I’ve tried to resist and keep my distance.
But it would appear the fates are finally on my side because now she’s
willingly come to me.
She’s in trouble and I’m the only one who can help… that is if she’s willing
to pay the price.
I want everything, and I’ll accept nothing less from her.
She walked into my life on the arm of my son, but I intend to keep her for
myself.
 CONTENTS

A Note From The Author

Playlist

1. Indie
2. Astor
3. Indie
4. Astor
5. Astor
6. Indie
7. Astor
8. Indie
9. Astor
10. Astor
11. Indie
12. Indie
13. Astor
14. Indie
15. Astor
16. Indie
17. Indie
18. Astor
19. Indie
20. Astor
21. Indie
22. Astor
23. Astor
24. Astor
25. Astor
26. Indie
27. Astor
28. Astor
29. Indie
30. Astor
31. Indie
Epilogue

Also by Kayleigh King

Acknowledgments
About the Author
 A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

TRIGGER WARNING - Please Read:

Golden Wings & Pretty Things is an age gap/boyfriend’s father romance
that includes themes of coercion, cheating (not on each other but with each
other), sexually explicit scenes and strong language. It may not be suitable
for readers under the age of eighteen.
NOTE: Astor and Indie’s story acts as the prequel for the author’s
upcoming series, Fractured Rhymes. The first thirteen chapters were
originally included in the Bully God Anthology (Published 02.22.22), but it
is encouraged that readers start from the beginning again as some
names/timelines have changed.
For those who go after what they want without shame or hesitation.
She didn’t want love,
she wanted to be loved—
and that
Was entirely different
ATTICUS
 PLAYLIST

Listen to the whole playlist here

Break My Baby - KALEO

She Treats Me Well - Ben Howard
Hollow - Will Champlin
Steady Love - Steady Love
Love Like Ours - Aron Wright
Tsunami - FLØRE
White Doves - Kyla La Grange
Wings - Birdy
Lose Ourselves - Boundary Run
Whenever You’re Around - Bootstraps
All I Want - Daniella Mason
Dreams - Caroline Glaser
I Don’t Want to Let You Go - Jordan Hart
ONE
INDIE
 JULY

“WATCH OUT!” is the only warning I get before ice cold water splashes
across my skin, stunning me out of the relaxed state I’d found myself in.
The group erupts into laughter and cheers as I fly up into a sitting position
on the large inflatable dock just in time to watch Callan’s head resurface.
His perfectly straight teeth flash when he finds me gaping at him in
shock. “Did I get you?”
This causes even more laughter from our friends, who either lie on the
dock with me or float on smaller colorful rafts all around us. Callan is the
only one fully submerged in the frigid water. It may be July, but Lake
Washington never gets much above sixty-five degrees.
I look down at my now waterlogged yellow bikini and back at my
boyfriend. “Maybe just a little bit.” It takes effort to keep my face pulled in
a scowl, a smile and laugh fighting to the surface.
Callan sees right through it though. “Only a little bit?” His muscular
arms, tan from spending our summer on the lake, glide with ease through
the water. He stops just feet in front of me, his dark blue eyes searching me
over. “Show me where I missed. I’m going to need to get there too,” he
taunts, his lips pulling into a smug smirk.
It’s refreshing to see Callan like this. He’s been so serious lately. I’ve
tried asking him about it, but he’s been cagey and vague with his answers.
The desire to push him on it is strong, but when people pry me for
information, it makes me want to punch them in the nose. So, I’ve tried my
best to be patient.
He’ll tell me when he’s ready. Or at least I hope he will.
It’s always been a toss-up with Callan. Since the beginning, it’s felt like
he’s been holding back.
His hand wraps around my ankle, and with a harsh pull, he yanks me
dangerously close to the edge. My nails dig into the surface to try and
prevent him from pulling me further. I have a feeling it’s in vain though.
My legs now dangle in the chilly water, making goosebumps dance across
my skin.
“How about a quick dip, Indie?” Callan takes my other ankle in his
grasp too. “Just so we can get all the places I missed.”
“Don’t you dare,” I warn, my smile still threatening to escape no matter
how much I don’t want to get back in the lake. It took thirty minutes of
laying in the sun to finally warm myself up after my brisk swim out here.
Shore isn’t far, forty feet at most, but it feels a lot farther when your
muscles seize up from the icy water.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I promise.” Callan lifts my foot out of the lake,
bringing it to his mouth. He presses a kiss to the arch, his eyes locked with
mine while he does.
It’s a sweet moment he completely ruins by breaking his promise.
There’s barely enough time for me to release a startled yelp before I’m
fully submerged. The abrupt change in temperature is a shock to the system.
My body stiffens and my chest aches.
It’s only a few seconds I’m under, but it feels like minutes.
Not once do Callan’s hands leave my body as he pulls me up and I
surface, making a screeching sound. “Holy shit!” I shriek once I’ve sucked
in a breath.
 My boyfriend’s laugh fills my ears while I shove the hair that’s stuck to
my forehead back. “Look how fast you get wet for me,” he muses.
His hands flex on my hips and a shiver of anticipation shoots through
me. It’s been too long since we’ve slept together, and I miss being touched.
In addition to his new evasive demeanor, he’s been coming over less and
less. When he does, he doesn’t spend the night.
Since summer break started, he hasn’t invited me over to his place on
campus either. Before, there were times I spent two weeks there, not once
returning to my own apartment. When we first got together almost six
months ago, it was all heat. Didn’t matter where we were, Callan’s hands
were on me, but now, I feel like I have to work to get him to show interest
in me. And I’m starting to grow tired.
The red flags are basically glowing neon signs at this point.
I’m wary, but still pleased by his change in attitude now. I don’t even
care that our friends are five feet away from us, possibly eavesdropping.
“Mmmhmm,” I agree, looping my arms around his neck, bringing our
faces closer. “You got me wet, now what are you going to do about it?”
Callan’s eyes flick to my lips, but where I should see desire reflected in
them, all I find is contemplation.
Fuck this.
No longer waiting for him to make a move, I close the distance myself
and test the waters.
I remember the first time Callan Banes kissed me. He literally swept me
off my feet because he stole my ability to stand with a simple kiss. It was
the epitome of making a girl weak in the knees. At the time, I thought that
kiss was going to be my last first kiss.
Our kiss now confirms that I may have been wrong that night. Ever
since then, I’ve been chasing that feeling like an addict chasing their first
high. And now I’m starting to wonder if it’s even worth it.
 People sometimes describe kisses like a dance. There’s passion and an
elegant rhythm. The choreography should be exciting to perform. It feels
taxing and boring now. Almost like it’s a chore.
“Callan!” Hansen hollers from the dock I’d been yanked from, making
Callan pull away. “Get your ass up here. I need a partner. Zadie and Lark
think they have a chance against me in beer pong.”
“Oh! I don’t think anything,” Zadie shouts back at Hansen from the hot
pink raft she sits on. “I know. I saw how you threw the ball last week at
practice. We have this in the bag.” Her hand points at the floating beer pong
table, the various bracelets she wears chime every time she moves. “I’ll bet
you two hundred dollars right now that us girls can kick your ass six ways
from Sunday.”
Zadie Hill looks like a sweet little pixie, but she can verbally destroy the
strongest of men. It’s one of my favorite things to witness.
“Hey!” Hansen shouts at her. “Don’t be a bitch.”
“I’m not a bitch, I’m a fucking lady,” Zadie hurls the ball in her lap at
him. He catches it with ease, causing a scowl to form. “Stop talking and
let’s play.”
Callan laughs, his handsome face pulling into a huge smile. “You’re on,
Hill.” His quick kiss on my cheek feels like a dismissal as he pushes away
from me without a second thought.
I stay there treading water, watching him swim away, not really sure
what I’m waiting for him to do. Come back? Ask me to join? Just…
something.
It’s Lark, the stunning, soft spoken, blonde with the kind smile that yells
over to me. Not my boyfriend. “Indie! Come on!” She motions me with her
hand. “We can take turns.”
I think over her offer for all of two seconds before I shake my head at
her. “No, it’s okay,” I lie. “You guys go ahead. I need to go inside and see if
my mom called me back.”
 Not a complete lie. I have an event this weekend and need to make sure
that everything is still okay on her end. When I told Mom my wish to
participate in this competition, she dragged her feet on giving me her
blessing. I’m counting down the days till I no longer need her permission.
For three years, I’ve squirreled away every loose piece of change and
dollar bill I don’t need to live so I can finally buy Jupiter from her. It’s
ridiculous that I would have to do such a thing when my dad gave me his
beloved stallion as a gift when I was thirteen. The horse is rightfully mine,
but when Dad died, my mom put her name on Jupiter’s paperwork.
As long as she’s the rightful owner of him, I need her permission for
every event we participate in. It’s just another way for her to keep me under
her controlling thumb. Her new boyfriend isn’t helping matters either.
Turning from my friends, I begin to swim back to the shore. I get no
more than ten feet away when my name is called again.
This time it’s Callan.
Treading water again, I look at the man I’m growing tired of wasting
time on.
“I think my dad is working with that damn eagle again today,” he warns
from his place on the floating dock. His hand shields his eyes from the high
afternoon sun as he squints at me. “It’s never done anything, but I don’t
trust it. Just be careful.”
“Oh,” I nod once. “Okay.”
With that, Callan turns his back on me. Confirming what I already know
in my heart and making the disappointment I feel grow.
I don’t chase after boys, but our story is the oldest one in the book. A
popular upper classman takes interest in the wide-eyed freshman. She’s shy
but loves that he takes her everywhere, showing her off. He introduces her
to everyone like he’s truly proud to have her at his side. She believes his
whispered sweet nothings and false promises. She becomes swept up in him
and thrives off the heat between them.
 But what happens when it turns stone cold, and the sweet nothings
become lies?
You discover it was all smoke and mirrors, and you’re left clinging to
something that never existed in the first place.
TWO
 ASTOR

JEALOUSY.
It’s a peculiar emotion to experience when you’re a man who’s never
wanted for anything. Yet I find that unbecoming shade of green working its
way through my system more frequently as of late. It appears during the
smallest moments, like now, watching the eagle soar up ahead.
I envy the bird of prey’s freedom and ability to fly away from it all. His
liberty is fleeting, but every second is priceless to him. I crave those own
seconds for myself.
With a low whistle, I call the bird back to me. It’s taken years and
endless patience to get to this point, but he doesn’t hesitate even a moment
before swooping back toward the ground. The piece of rabbit leg I have in
the leather pouch at my side keeps him coming back.
It’s his reward.
Protected by a thick leather glove, he lands gracefully on my arm. He
makes a low squawking sound, his yellow ever-observant eyes looking for
the treat he knows he’s owed.
“Good boy,” I praise, stroking a hand down his brown feathers before
reattaching the leash to the leather straps around his ankles. It took us a long
time to get here, but the contact no longer makes him uneasy. It wasn’t an
easy road, and I will forever carry scars on my hands and forearms as
reminders of our progress.
The outcome has been more than worth it.
Taking his reward from me, he holds the piece of meat in his talons and
eats happily as I carry him to the enclosure on the left side of the property.
It’s built in a dome shape, tight knit black netting covering the whole
structure. It’s large enough the bird will never feel cooped up, and in the
middle is a raised wooden building—almost like a small tree house—where
he can escape the Washington rains.
Releasing the tied leash from his foot, I free him, lingering only a
moment to watch him fly to a perch. His head nods once, as if he’s bidding
me farewell as I close the keypad protected door behind me and head back
toward my house.
The sound of boisterous laughter and yelling comes from the lake
below, reminding me that I’ll have another day of college kids in and out of
my house. Early in the summer, I made the mistake of allowing Callan to
have a few friends over. He has a house on campus he rents with a friend,
but they wanted to swim in the lake my house sits on.
Had I known it was going to turn into a weekly event throughout the
entire break, I would have rethought my original answer.
Especially had I known he would always bring her here.
I’ve never been one to deny myself what I want, but she is the
exception. I’ve been forced to restrain my cravings for months—something
that doesn’t come naturally but it is required of me.
It would have been better had she never been put in my sights, but now
that I know she exists, I can’t seem to escape her.
Now is no different.
I enter through the tall glass backdoors of my home to find the main
source of my growing jealousy standing in my kitchen.
 The small triangles of her bikini cover little, revealing her sun-kissed
skin. She doesn’t hear me enter and her attention remains locked on the
phone in her hand.
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I take this moment to observe the girl
who’s unintentionally captured my attention.
She stands on a dish towel in an attempt to not get water on my
hardwood floors, but it’s not working. Small puddles are forming at her
feet. A steady drip comes from her dark hair that doesn’t quite reach her
shoulders. I watch as a drop falls down her chest. My eyes follow the bead
as it travels down her body, stopping only when it disappears into the
waistband of her bright yellow bottoms.
The unwelcome desire I feel for the girl rears its ugly head. My teeth
clench in anger knowing that, without even trying, she’s crawled under my
skin. I’m even more infuriated by the fact I’ve allowed someone so
unattainable to do so.
It’s one thing to be jealous of another man, it’s another thing entirely to
be jealous of your own son.
And when I look at Indie Riverton, I’m uncontrollably envious that my
son found her first and I’m angry he doesn’t fully appreciate the prize he’s
obtained.
A siren whose song I must ignore.
She’s a pretty thing that I’m aching to play with.
A toy that isn’t mine to break.
Burying the ill-advised stirrings she causes, I focus on the resentment
knowing I can’t have her, and I clear my throat harshly.
Her amber eyes drift from the screen and noticeably widen when she
finds me standing here. “Mr. Banes,” she gasps. “I didn’t see you there.”
I shift forward a foot, hands behind my back. “You’re dripping water on
my floors.”
 She blinks slowly at me as if she’s not understanding my remark.
Finally, it clicks, and she quickly says, “Crap. I’m so sorry. I needed to
check my phone, and I forgot to bring my towel up with me.” Keeping her
feet planted on the small towel, she reaches for the other dish towel that’s
folded neatly on the marble countertops. “I’ll clean it up,” she promises.
Before I can say another word, she squats down and wipes at the
puddles on the hardwood. With each one she cleans, another appears from
the water still escaping her drenched hair.
Shaking my head, I spin on my heels and head toward the laundry room
where I know the housekeeper left a pile of fresh towels.
I return to find her on her hands and knees, a sight that makes my hands
flex. Stepping closer, I dangle the towel off my fingertip in front of her face.
Indie’s chin lifts, our eyes locking. The prettiest blush I’ve ever seen
spreads across her face as her thin fingers wrap around the offering. “Thank
you,” she whispers with a sheepish smile.
I don’t offer any reply or extend my hand to help her stand. I merely
watch the way she nibbles on her bottom lip. It’s a nervous tick I’ve seen
her do many times. She does it when she’s waiting for Callan to look at her
or even acknowledge her. Her big doe-like eyes stare at him, silently
pleading for him to remember that she’s there, but he never does.
I’ve never been one to interfere with my son’s personal life, and in truth,
he’s never responded well to hand holding. He needs to make these
mistakes so he can learn from them. He’ll realize too late that he’s fucked
up. Though, I’m not convinced his retreat from her hasn’t been
methodically planned.
“Why are you in here?” I ask. “Shouldn’t you be down there with the
rest of them?” With my son.
Returning to her feet, Indie uses the towel to ring out the moisture from
her hair. “I needed a break from the sun.” She tells a lie better than most,
but the falsehood is written in her amber eyes when she speaks. “And I’ve
been waiting for my mom to get back to me all day about a show jumping
event I have this Sunday. She’s out of town with her boyfriend, so getting a
hold of her has been tricky.”
Another thing I’ve noticed is she also rambles when she’s nervous. It
shouldn’t please me as much as it does that I’ve caused such a reaction from
her. It’s not the reaction I desire, but then again, I shouldn’t be craving a
single thing from her.
“You turned down the spot on our equestrian team along with the
scholarship that came with it, did you not?” It was an abuse of my power to
look into her school records, but along with my jealousy, my curiosity was
also piqued. “Why would you opt for a merit-based scholarship that covers
less when you could have received a full ride?”
My question takes Indie by surprise. Her mouth opens and closes a
couple of times before she finally finds her words. “I always forget you’re
the university president and know all this stuff about everyone.”
“Not everyone.”
Her mouth tilts in a playful smile. “So, I’m pretty special then, huh?”
“No.” My correction comes with a terse edge, instantly killing her
smile. “When my son is dating a fellow student, I tend to take interest. I’m
not fond of having strangers in my home to begin with, and Callan’s
judgment when it comes to the girls he brings home have been less than
ideal.”
After his senior year of high school, it went downhill fast and that is
partially why I’m shocked he picked someone like Indie.
At the mention of dating Callan, Indie’s face falls further, and her hands
tighten around the white towel she’s still holding. “Right, obviously.” She
nods. “That makes sense.”
“Does mentioning my son’s past conquests upset you?”
“Upset me? Not at all.” Indie makes a scoffing noise before she can help
it. It appears it comes as a surprise to even her by the way she covers her
mouth. “I… I just mean, I know everyone has a past, and Callan is no
different,” she attempts to recover, but the damage has been done.
Silence falls between us when I don’t offer a reply. Instead, I try to
uncover the secrets she keeps guarded behind her pretty face.
She breaks it by answering my earlier question. “I’m good at what I do
because of the horse I ride. We’re a team, and if I can’t compete with him,
there’s no point in me competing at all. My mom wouldn’t allow me to
bring him here to Seattle, and without her blessing, my hands were tied. I
took the next best option the school offered me, which was the merit
scholarship.”
“I suppose that makes sense. It takes a long time to establish a bond
with an animal, and once they’re formed, they’re not easily replaced.”
Indie glances toward the back yard where I’d just been with the eagle.
“I can’t begin to imagine the kind of time it took you to bond with him. The
patience alone to train an animal like him must have been intense. How
exactly does one train a golden eagle?”
With her standing this close, I can’t help my eyes from wandering
across her tanned skin or my lungs from inhaling her. The sunscreen she
wears smells of coconut and there’s a light trail of freckles on her nose from
spending her summer days lounging in my backyard.
“Training something is easy once you know what motivates them,
Indie,” I begin, my tone sounding darker than I intend it to, but her nearness
is destroying my resolve.
Indie picks up on it and her teeth stop their nibbling on her bottom lip.
Her eyes lock with mine and her breath shudders as the air suddenly shifts
between us. She’s looked at me before, but it’s as if this is the first time
she’s truly allowing herself to see me.
“For the eagle, it’s the promise of food. As long as I continue to reward
him, he’ll come when I call. Humans are just as easy. They want money,
power, or sex. Once you know which they desire, you can have them eating
out of your hand just like the eagle does mine.”
She stares up at me with her lips parted and chest rising faster than
before. My own heart thuds against my chest and my mind fills with the
filthy things I would do to her if she was my plaything.
Indie swallows hard, her throat bobbing. “Which one do you crave?”
she boldly asks.
My hand reaches out and I push the wet strand of hair that sticks to her
blushing cheek behind her ear. “I don’t crave just one, I want all of it,” I
pause, my hand lingering longer on her skin than it should. “And I’ll accept
nothing less.”
I’m already playing with fire and toeing the line that’s been drawn in the
sand.
To hell with it.
There are a million reasons to keep my distance, the biggest ones being
Indie is Callan’s girlfriend and a student at my university, but that doesn’t
stop me. Can’t stop me.
Shifting forward another step, I bow my head. I’m not sure if she’s even
aware that she reacts and moves closer. Her chin tilts up toward me, further
bridging the space between us. She’s shorter than me by many inches, but
we’re close enough that I can feel her shaky breath across my chin.
“You would be just as easy,” I tell her darkly, eyes cutting to her pink
lips. “Once I figured out which reward you craved, I could make you just as
obedient. Just like him, you’ll come when I call.” Even to me, I’m not sure
if this is a threat or a promise. Maybe it’s a mixture of both. “Just something
to keep in mind.” Searching for the resolve I originally entered the room
with, I harden myself once more. “Please do bring a towel with you next
time, Indie. I would hate to see you ruin my floors.”
It’s best for the both of us that I turn and leave before she can respond.
THREE
INDIE
 SEPTEMBER

I WOULD CONSIDER myself a fairly resourceful person.

All my life, I’ve found a way to achieve my goals and figure out my
problems. Sometimes with as little as a piece of bubble gum and spare
change at my disposal, I’ve found a way to MacGyver the shit out of life.
Each hurdle that’s come my way, I’ve leaped over with grace and my
dignity intact.
It took nineteen years, but I think I’ve finally met my match.
Never in my life have I ever felt more helpless than I do right now. Each
direction I look, I can’t find an escape route. The doors are all slamming
closed on me and I’m hanging on by a single thread.
And she’s standing there with a pair of scissors, waiting for the right
time to snip it.
I should have seen the betrayal coming, but I foolishly believed that
deep down she still cared. She didn’t hold back the punches when she
proved to me just how wrong I was. Each blow left a bruise that I still wear
now. I’m not sure they’ll ever fade.
She took the one thing that meant the world to me and now everything
else is falling apart in its wake.
It would be easy to blame it all on her, but I’m at fault too. First, for
trusting she wouldn’t do something so cruel, but for being reckless with my
actions in the aftermath. I didn’t think through my plan. I allowed the anger
and desperation to dictate my moves and now I’m paying the price.
I can only see one way out of this, and there’s no chance in hell I’ll
make it out with my pride intact.
Not when I have to look him in the eyes and beg for help.
It’s been two months since I even laid eyes on Astor Banes, but that
doesn’t mean when I close my eyes at night that I don’t see him or hear his
voice. That singular and brief interaction we had has permanently
embedded itself in my brain. I catch myself getting lost in the memory more
often than I’d care to admit.
Astor and Callan have many similarities appearance wise with chiseled
facial structures and similar builds, but nothing Callan has ever done or said
to me has affected me the way his father’s words have.
Callan has moments of intensity, but they pale in comparison to the
energy that comes off Astor. I felt like I was choking on it that day this
summer to the point I couldn’t breathe. There are many ways someone can
die, but I’m certain at that moment, I wouldn’t have minded going out that
way.
Prior to that encounter, I was aware of Astor, but never looked at him
long enough to get caught in his storm.
Callan has invited me to a handful of family dinners, and Astor was
pleasant then. Cordial even. During that time, I was blinded by the
whirlwind that was Callan. My rose-colored glasses were firmly in place,
and I wasn’t seeing past him. Now that the glasses have been lifted and I’ve
finally seen Astor, it’s impossible to forget his existence.
He made sure I’d never forget.
“Just something to think about,” he’d said, knowing full well what seed
he was planting in my head.
The seed has grown into a vine that’s been steadily ensnaring me since
July. I went out of my way to avoid him, hoping that once he was out of my
line of sight, the hold he suddenly had on me would evaporate. I thought it
was a fluke, that he’d caught me when I was vulnerable. I was feeling an
array of things that day as I was coming to terms with the stagnant state of
my relationship with Callan and dealing with my mother.
My walls were down, and I think Astor saw that.
I started to decline Callan’s offers to spend time at his father’s lake
house. It only took two weeks of saying no for him to stop asking all
together. At that point, I didn’t care because while my boyfriend was
floating on an innertube getting drunk in the summer sun, I was busy
dodging the shards of my life as they exploded around me. Even if I wanted
to go back there and risk coming face to face with the man who’s started to
haunt my dreams, I didn’t have the energy to put on a façade.
And now, after a month of mistakes and fighting battles alone, I’m
officially out of options and depleted of all my energy.
I could blame the fact I’m running late to this meeting on being too tired
and not wanting to get out of bed today, but it would be a lie. The real
reason is it took me two hours of pep talks and psyching myself up to
convince myself to go to his office.
By the time I finally did, I only had fifteen minutes to get ready.
It takes effort to not growl in frustration at the hoard of people that
slowly exit the elevator. They take their time, like they have nothing else
better to do. Meanwhile, I have a meeting with a man who very well might
be my last hope of keeping the remainder of my life on course.
If Astor doesn’t agree to help me, I’m fucked.
Royally and truly fucked.
The last person to exit is a middle-aged woman whose attire screams
administrative assistant. She smiles at me as she passes. I usually smile
back at everyone, but not today.
Today is not a day for smiles. I feel like I’m on my way to plead with
the devil.
 I step inside the elevator before anyone else has a chance to join me, my
finger holding down the close-door button. Once they’re shut, I force a
steadying breath into my lungs before selecting the top floor. The ride up is
painfully slow, and by the time the doors open, I’ve carved tiny crescent
moons into my palms from digging my nails into them.
This level is quiet—eerily quiet. The phones are silent and there isn’t a
peep coming from any of the various offices on the floor. Walking down the
brightly lit hallway, I start to panic thinking I’ve selected the wrong floor
when a pretty woman with auburn hair stands from the reception desk.
“Miss Riverton?” Her smile is kind, instantly putting me at ease. “Mr.
Banes has been expecting you. If you’d please follow me, I can show you to
his office.”
I feel him before I hear his voice.
“That won’t be necessary, Cheska,” Astor instructs from somewhere
behind me, making chills run down my spine. “I can show her myself.”
My muscles feel like blocks of ice, and I’m frozen in place. I don’t need
to turn around to confirm his slate gray eyes are raking over me. With each
pass of them, I can feel them leave trails of fire over my skin.
“Do you need anything else before I leave for lunch?” the receptionist
asks, a sultry edge to her voice. I can’t say I blame the girl.
“No,” Astor tells her, but I know he’s still looking at me. “Indie, come
with me.”
His threat from months ago plays on repeat when I finally turn to face
him.
You’ll come when I call.
The day in July, he wore dark blue slacks and a white shirt. The first
couple buttons had been undone and the sleeves rolled, giving him a relaxed
appearance. Today, he’s dressed like he’s prepared to command a
boardroom. Hell, as the president of Olympic Sound University, he might
be doing just that after our meeting.
 The silver tie he wears complements the silver strands that are forming
at his temples and scruff, and the gray color of his suit jacket brings out the
slate gray color of his eyes. Both remind me of the color of the sky before a
storm rolls in. In all honesty, there’s less chaos in a thunderstorm than there
is in his eyes. I’d rather face the dangers of lightning than face him.
Not because I’m afraid of him.
No, I’m afraid of what I might do because of him.
Our brief encounter left me feeling unsteady and out of control. He did
it so easily, it shouldn’t have been possible.
“This way,” he instructs, turning away and heading down the hallway.
He doesn’t turn to make sure I follow. Astor simply knows I will.
It dawns on me as I look around the quiet space that he scheduled this
meeting when no is here. And I’m wondering why he’d do such a thing
when we enter the spacious office. The whole back wall is made of glass
windows, giving an unencumbered view of Puget Sound, one I might find
beautiful if I weren’t filled to the brim with nervous energy.
Astor takes his seat behind the desk and motions to one of the leather
chairs in front of it. My eyes skim over the name plate that sits on the shiny
surface.
Astor Z. Banes.
What does the Z stand for?
“Take a seat, Indie.”
FOUR
 ASTOR

I KNEW the phone call was coming, it just took longer than I expected.
For over a month she’s struggled to find a way to fix the mess that has
been created and for a month I’ve waited for her to walk into my office. It
would be her last resort, but I knew she would come to me. There was no
way she was getting out of this without a helping hand and the public
defender that’s been assigned her case is worthless. I’ve met cats that could
contribute more than he has. The only decent thing he’s done is keep her out
of jail.
The last few times I laid eyes on Indie she wore nothing more than a
swimsuit. Now she dons a green and black plaid skirt that could be
considered too short to some, and a black long-sleeved shirt that’s cropped,
revealing her toned stomach.
For some reason, I find her attire now more distracting than I did the
bikinis. Perhaps it’s because I know what’s hiding underneath the clothes,
or it’s more likely because she’s wearing black knee-high stockings with her
black leather boots. Images of her in nothing but those fill my head.
Indie sits timidly in the chair across from me, her crossed legs bouncing
like she’s unable to sit still. The fact that I can make her squirm with hardly
any effort pleases me. Fighting a smirk, I cock my head at her.
 “What is it that you want from me, Indie?” I know the answer, but I
want to hear her say it. I want to watch her pink lips as they form the word,
please. “You were vague on the phone about what this meeting is pertaining
to. It’s not about my son, is it?” Asking her this is cruel, but I want to gauge
her reaction. Callan hasn’t spoken much about her as of late, and I want to
know just how fragile the single thread between them is. How hard will it
be for me to break it?
Her answer won’t sway or alter my plans. There’s no stopping me at this
point, but I would still like to have the information before moving forward.
She shifts in her seat again and her fingers reach up to fiddle with gold
necklaces around her throat. “No, Callan doesn’t know about this.” She
pauses, a sad sounding laugh fills the space as Indie shakes her head. “I’m
not really sure where we stand and if I did, I still wouldn’t want to bother
him with it. I’m not sure if he’d care if I did tell him.” Amber eyes full of
uncertainty collide with mine. “No offense, Mr. Banes, but I have more
pressing matters going on than to chase after your son right now.”
Even without her saying the words, she tells me exactly what I want to
hear.
“Fair enough,” I concede, sitting forward in my chair so I can rest my
elbows on the black desk. “So, what exactly are you doing sitting in my
office right now?”
Indie takes in a lung full of air and slowly releases it before speaking
again. “I’m about to lose my scholarship. I’ve done everything in my power
to ensure it’s not taken away from me, but like everything else lately,
nothing I do is working. The scholarship committee won’t even entertain
the idea of discussing it further because of what happened.”
“And what happened?”
I know the story, but I want to hear it from her.
The uncertainty leaves her eyes and it’s replaced with bitter betrayal.
“My mother went behind my back and eloped with her boyfriend while they
were on vacation. While the ink was still wet on the marriage license, she
transferred ownership of our property in Tacoma to Ivan.” She’s trying her
best to keep herself composed, but with each passing second her mask is
breaking. “He decided that owning and taking care of such a large piece of
land was too much work. He plans on selling everything that sits on it
before finally selling the land to a housing developer.” Indie’s hands ball in
her lap, opening and closing. “He also plans on selling Jupiter.”
I nod along, allowing her to tell her tale.
“I begged Ivan to let me buy Jupiter from him, but he refused, and my
mother wasn’t any help. She sat back and let Ivan take him from me.”
“While it’s a disappointment you won’t have the horse in your
possession any longer, surely an animal of his skill and caliber will be sold
to someone who wants to continue to show him. Correct?”
“No,” Indie’s head shakes. “They’re not doing this to make a profit,
they’re doing it out of spite.”
My head tilts at this remark. “And why would they do that?”
Like she’s unable to continue the story from where she sits, she jumps
to her feet. She paces behind the chair and her gaze looks anywhere but at
me. “A few years ago, there was an…incident between Ivan and me. I
found a camera in my bedroom that I’d never seen before. I tried to tell my
mom about it, to warn her that he wasn’t a good man, but she said it was my
fault.” There’s an audible break in her voice when she says the last word.
Thoughts of what it’d be like to meet this Ivan in person crosses my mind
as she continues. “Ivan hated me after that. He’s been in my mom’s ear ever
since, turning her against me. And she’s let him.” She glances at me for
only a minute, like she’s making sure I’m still listening. “Ivan won’t sell
Jupiter for money. He’ll sell him to a kill buyer he can find just as a last
fuck you to me.”
She comes to a stop behind the chair she’d abandoned, her hands
gripping the back so tight, her knuckles turn white.
 “It’s a troublesome story, Indie, but I’m not seeing how any of this
affects your scholarship here,” I tell her, continuing my ruse that I have no
idea what she’s done or what she’s about to ask of me.
Like I said, I’ve waited patiently for a month for this meeting. I’ve been
devising and perfecting my plan for her since I learned of the mess she’d
entangled herself in.
“I knew who he’d sell Jupiter to and that’s why I snuck onto the
property while they were asleep. My trainer, Tessa, was a longtime friend of
my father’s before he passed, and I knew she’d help me. Her friend owns a
sanctuary in Idaho, and I thought if I got Jupiter there, he’d be safe.” I can
practically see the defeat in her bones as her hands drop from the leather
chair. “I was so close to the border when the cops Ivan sent found me. They
took Jupiter while I was handcuffed on the side of the road and Ivan had me
charged with theft of property...”
“And theft is a misdemeanor in the state of Washington,” I fill in for her.
She doesn’t understand it now, but she’s lucky she got caught before
crossing the state line. Her charges would have been worse had her plan
succeeded. “And a misdemeanor on your record disqualifies you for your
merit scholarship.”
“Yes.” Her admission is barely a whisper and is full of defeat.
“And you came here today to ask if I would be willing to pull some
strings so you can continue your education here?”
Olympic Sound University is a prestigious private college and the doors
that will open for the students once they have their diploma from here are
unparalleled. To lose her chance at that on top of everything else that’s been
taken away from her is unfathomable to Indie. I can practically smell the
desperation coming off her.
“Yes.”
Some things in life take work and effort, others just fall into your lap
like the fates destined it. This is one of those times. I couldn’t have planned
this better. All the pieces aligned without me so much as having to lift a
finger. I promised myself for months, out of respect for Callan, I wouldn’t
touch Indie Riverton and I would keep my distance from her.
That plan exploded into dust in July when she looked at me with those
eyes filled with excitement and fear. A deadly combination but one that sets
my blood on fire. The second I left her alone in my kitchen, I decided to
break my promise and stop denying myself what I want.
All I had to do was wait for my opportunity and I vowed when it came,
I wouldn’t hesitate to take it.
She came to me for help but has no idea what it’s going to cost her.
Laying my palms flat on the cool surface of my desk, I stand to my feet.
Indie’s watchful gaze tracks each move I make, like a deer being tracked by
a predator. Pretty girl, I’m going to eat you whole.
Moving in an unhurried manner, I undo the button of my suit jacket
before perching myself on the edge of the desk.
“This is quite the predicament, Miss Riverton.” I make a tsking sound.
“You made a mess of things, effectively destroying the steadfast path you’d
found yourself on.” I’m stoking her flames because I want to see how easy
it will be for me to put them out again. “It sounds to me that not only have
you wasted this university’s time, but also its valuable resources. There are
thousands of applicants a year for that particular scholarship. They hope
and pray to be accepted, but you threw it all away, for what? An easily
replaceable horse?”
Just like I wanted, fire ignites in her amber orbs and her face contorts in
anger. “Don’t speak on things that you don’t understand,” she spits. “You
have no idea how important that horse is to me. No idea. I fucked up, I
know I did, but I would do it again if there was a sliver of a chance I could
save him from being slaughtered.” She rounds the chair she’d been using as
a shield between us, her fury driving her closer. “As we speak, he could be
standing on a scale being weighed so they can determine how much he’s
worth. They don’t give a fuck what his bloodlines are, or how many ribbons
he’s won. Or even what he means to me. His only value will be in how
much meat he can provide and that thought alone is enough for me to throw
up on your fucking carpet.”
Sitting like a cold piece of stone, completely unbothered by her
outburst, I calmly command, “Sit down.”
The anger melts from Indie’s face, confusion replacing it. She looks
between the chair she’d abandoned and me. “What?”
“Sit the fuck down, Indie.” This time there’s a deadly edge to my tone,
leaving no room for her to question me.
She stares at me a moment longer before the fight leaves her body once
again. Satisfaction fills my chest when she complies with my order without
further debate.
So willing to comply, Indie. What else can I make you do?
“Good.” My approval has Indie’s eyes flaring and ever so slightly
shifting in her seat. “You came here for my help, but you haven’t said the
actual words. So, tell me again, Indie, what do you want from me?”
Her pink tongue swipes out, wetting her bottom lip. Finding the
remainder of her plummeting resolve, she tilts her chin and sits up
straighter. “Will you please help me, Mr. Banes?”
And there it is. The word I’ve been waiting to hear.
Please.
FIVE
 ASTOR

“YOU REALLY SHOULD HAVE COME to me sooner, Indie. It would

have saved yourself a lot of time and energy if you had.” I return to the
other side of my desk and sit back in the leather chair. Opening the top
drawer, I grasp the blue folder that I’d left there nearly two-months prior.
Much like me, it waited patiently for this day to arrive. “While you
continued with your futile attempts to salvage things, I’d already gone
ahead and done so for you.”
Indie’s lips part in surprise. “I—I don’t understand,” she stammers.
I place the folder on the shiny surface of my desk. Her eyes flick to it
only momentarily before returning to mine. “I knew you’d eventually come
to me for assistance, so I took the initiative to pull strings and arrange some
options for you in an effort to be well prepared for today.” My words come
across much more selfless than they are. My motives are and will always be
inherently selfish. “It will be up to you which of these two paths you
choose, but either way, you will be walking away with a diploma from an
esteemed university.”
“How could you have known I would come to you? We hardly know
each other.” Her head shakes.
“Tell me, who else in your life would have been willing or able to help
you in anyway?” I question. “Your mother has all but washed her hands of
you now that her new husband is in the picture. Your friends could offer
you nothing more than a shoulder to cry on. And my son? You elected to
not inform him of your troubles. So, I’ll ask again, who else was going to
help you?”
She sits there, staring at her hands and accepting her fate. “You said I
had two options. What are they?”
Opening the blue folder, I push it closer to her so she may read the letter
of acceptance from the college in Alabama. “I have a long-time business
associate that happens to be the dean of Auburn University. He was more
than happy to look past your now blemished record and offer you a place at
his school. Housing and a meal plan will also be included as part of your
attendance. I have also gone ahead and secured a loan for your tuition. If
you should want it, all you would need to do is fill out the remaining
paperwork. This would give you the opportunity to start fresh, away from
your mother and her new husband.”
It’s a favorable offer, one that offers her everything she could want.
Almost everything, that is.
“Auburn? Are you kidding me? This offer feels too good to be true. So,
what’s the catch?”
“Smart girl.” My head nods once in approval. Turning over her
acceptance letter from the southern university, I reveal the brochure hidden
beneath. “They acknowledge talent when they see it and they’re not about
to let this opportunity pass them by. One of their riders had to leave
unexpectedly and there is now a spot on their team available for you.”
She stares at the blue and orange pamphlet like it’s personally offended
her. A reaction I had fully expected. “I already told you that I don’t have
any interest in being part of an equestrian team. Especially without—”
“Jupiter.” I finish for her. She thinks I could have already forgotten the
thoroughbred’s name. The irony of the name alone will keep it committed
to my memory for years to come. “I know what you said, but you’re not
really in a position to be picky, now are you? This offer is one that is not
easily beaten. It is also not one you will get again if you were to change
your mind in a month’s time.” Passing the brochure closer to her, I take the
picture of the bay-colored horse tucked below it out. “They call him
Connecticut. From what I’ve been told, he’s an excellent jumper. He just
requires a rider. His owners are alumni of the university and would be
proud to have their horse participating on their equestrian team.”
Reluctantly, she reaches out with uneasy hands and takes the offered
picture. The longer she stares at the gelding in the picture, the more the
despair grows in her amber eyes. Her soft lips open and close like she’s
trying to find the ability to agree to the offer, but in the end her unwavering
loyalty wins. Just as I had hoped and planned. Her eyes squeeze closed as
she turns the picture over.
Using one finger, she pushes it back to me. “What’s option number
two?”
There isn’t a folder for this one. No, it’s best this one isn’t written down
on paper. “Option two is you stay here, and you’re allowed to continue your
education here at my university. The same amount that was covered by your
scholarship will continue to be covered. Unfortunately, room and board will
not be included in this option but seeing as you already have an apartment
off campus, nothing will change in that manner. Your classes will resume as
normal come Monday morning.”
Looking completely dumbfounded, Indie tilts her head at me. “Why
didn’t you start with that one?”
Leaning back in my chair, I rest my elbows on the armrests and clasp
my hands together. “Because the price for option two is much greater than
breaking a vow you’ve made to yourself.”
Her faithfulness to her equine companion is endearing, but I’m about to
learn just how resilient it is. If it’s as strong as my desire for her, there’s a
slim chance she will break it.
 “To stay at Olympic Sound, what will it cost me?” Indie shifts in her
seat, crossing her leg over the other before asking the real question at hand.
She’s a smart one, I’ll give her that. “What do you want in return?”
Oh, pretty girl, you have no idea.
That’s a deadly question with an answer I’m not sure she’s ready to hear
in its entirety. So, I tell her the truth. “You.”
I watch as she stiffens in her seat and the sweetest airy gasp escapes her
lips. “I don’t know what that means.”
Her hands move to the hem of her short skirt. Her fingers grip the fabric
like it’s the one lifeline she has left keeping her tethered to her chair. Indie
looks like a cornered rabbit, as if any sudden movement will make her flee.
I put my theory to the test by standing from my chair once again. Her eyes
flick toward the closed door, but like the good girl she is, she remains in her
seat.
My palms press flat against my desk as I lean forward, eating up more
of the space between us. “It’s simple really. For the remainder of the school
year, you would be mine. Mine to call upon, mine to have when I please,
mine to touch in any way I see fit.”
The spark of intrigue that has lingered in Indie’s gaze since she walked
in my office morphs into dismay. “You want me to, what? Be your whore?”
“If you’d prefer to use such degrading terms, we can.” A pretty thing. A
pretty whore.
Her fingers look like they might tear the fabric of her skirt at this point.
Her hands have started to shake, but still she remains put. When the door is
only mere feet away from her. No one is stopping her from fleeing.
“How can you say that to me when you know I’m Callan’s girlfriend?”
Indie says this like it’s supposed to bring reason to the argument. Little does
she know, reason went out the window that day in my kitchen—when I
decided I’d no longer deprive myself of what I want.
 In steady, unhurried steps, I round my desk and stand in front of her.
Indie reclines in her chair, desperately trying to create space between us
when I bow so our faces are eye level. She flinches as I trail my fingers
along her jaw before clasping her chin in my grasp. I’m forced to hide a
smirk when her pupils dilate, and a shaky breath skips across her lips.
“How did that lie taste on your tongue, Indie?” I ask. “Bitter, I’m sure.”
She wants to argue with me, I know it, but instead she sits like a piece
of stone, allowing the flames to dance just beneath the surface. I know
they’re there. The flames lick out, teasing me. I want to stoke them.
“So, what’s your plan, Mr. Banes?” Her voice is strong, even. “If I said
yes to this, you’d turn me over and fuck me right here on this desk?
Whether I wanted to or not?”
My smirk finally breaks free. “No, I won’t. You have two options in
front of you and you must decide which path you’d like to take. If you elect
to go to Alabama, I will gladly book you a first-class ticket there and we
can end this right here. And separately we can both reminisce over what
could have been.” No doubt she’ll haunt my dreams just as I do hers. “But
if you decide to stay and be mine, you must come to me first. If this is the
path you decide to take, I will not initiate our arrangement. It ultimately has
to be your choice and yours alone.”
She tilts her chin higher in my grip. “Why me?”
“You once asked me what I crave. I told you I wanted it all and that
included you. Do you remember what else I said that day?”
Her voice is just barely a whisper when she answers, “That you’d accept
nothing less.”
“Precisely. I saw you and decided I wanted to claim you as my own. All
I’ve done now is discovered a way to do so.” I don’t bother telling her I
deprived myself of my craving for months or that I thought of what her
pretty face would look like as she looked up at me from her knees. Those
are my secrets and mine alone.
 She silently ponders this, eyes examining my face like she will find the
answers hidden there. I had planned for an array of questions, but she has
only one.
“Do I have to decide today?”
“No.” I finally release her face from my grasp. “You have until Sunday
night. Four days and not a second longer.” My fingers pull the card from
my suit pocket. It has my personal cell phone number on the back. “If I
don’t hear from you, I will assume you’ve found a third path.”
She takes the card from me, and I step back, returning to her the space I
had been holding hostage. Indie holds the card to her chest as she stands
from the chair on shaky legs. Amber eyes look me over once more before
she turns from me. It’s only when her thin fingers touch the door handle that
I speak again.
“I do hope to hear from you, Indie.”
SIX
 INDIE

SOMETHING WEIRD HAPPENS when someone puts a timer on your

life. Seconds you would never think about wasting suddenly feel precious
and horribly fleeting.
Three days ago, I left Astor Banes office in a completely bewildered
and, frankly, aroused state. The latter, of course, caused an extreme sense of
guilt to also bubble to the surface. The idea of being Astor’s whore
shouldn’t excite me. The very notion should infuriate me and scare me. The
rational thing for me to do after leaving our meeting—if you can call it that
—was to have run to the closest administrator and filed a complaint against
him. Even if I had been inclined to do so, I doubt it would have done
anything. Astor Banes is a God among men.
For each second that has passed, thoughts of Astor and his offer have
occupied my mind. Not once, not even in my fitful sleep, have I found any
reprieve from him. Like my own personal ghost, he haunts me. I can’t
honestly say I’m mad at him for that. I’m more upset with myself that I’ve
even allowed this to be a decision worth agonizing over.
I know which one I should choose. Just like he said, Alabama would
offer me a chance at a fresh start, away from the evil doings of my mother
and Ivan. I should be asking for the first flight out of Washington. There’s
nothing tethering me to my home state any longer. My relationship with
Callan is nonexistent. At this point, we’re both just waiting for the other to
call time of death. My mom stopped being my mother when Dad died three
years ago and now that she has Ivan, the situation has become even worse.
And on top of it all, Jupiter is gone.
Tessa, my trainer, has been calling everyone she knows to try and find
where Ivan sold him. Every slaughter and auction lot has been called, but of
course they’re not willing to give over that kind of information. It’s been
almost five weeks exactly since Ivan took him and sold him to God knows
where. It’s starting to feel hopeless at this point. For all I know, he could
already be dead.
Not only do I feel like I’ve let down Jupiter, but I also feel like I’ve let
down my dad. My passion and love for the equestrian world comes from
him. His family bred and raced horses in Kentucky for generations. My dad
may have ventured away from his family business, but he always had his
stables full. His last gift to me before he got too sick was the black
thoroughbred. It would crush him today to know the horse he spent years
training was gone.
He thought their souls were one in the same and because of that he
called Jupiter his heart horse. When cancer became too much and Dad’s
body could no longer bear to ride, he gave me Jupiter. He knew the horse
would be miserable and bored if he were to spend the rest of his long life in
a pasture. And when Dad saw how well Jupiter and I worked together, he
knew we’d form an unbreakable bond.
My dad’s heart may have stopped, but he left a piece of it in his heart
horse. That’s why the idea of going to Alabama and riding another makes
me queasy. To me, it feels like the ultimate betrayal. To both of them.
“I have all my connections looking for him, Indie.” Tessa’s reassuring
tone does little to settle the nerves in my body. “There’s a shipment of
horses being sent across the northern border in six weeks. Protestors and
attempts from different animal-rights organizations—including my own—
have set back the original shipment date, but it’s looking like they got the
go ahead. If we raise enough funds from our donors, Amelia and I are
headed there next month to offer to buy the lot. If it works out, there’re a
few rescues that have offered to help take them in and rehome them once
they’re rehabilitated. If Jupiter is there, we will find him.”
“Okay.” I release a long breath, trying to quell the unease that’s been a
permanent resident in my chest for three days. “Just keep me updated,
Tessa.”
“We’ll get him back. Just hang in there, honey.”
“I’m trying.” I wish I had a fraction of her optimism right now. “Tell
Amy I said hello and thank you.” I’m not sure how many lives Tessa and
her wife, Amelia, have saved, but I know hundreds of horses would be dead
without their endless efforts.
“I will.”
The call ends just as Lark’s blonde head pops out of the back door I’d
escaped from just minutes prior. “There you are. Zadie couldn’t find you
and we thought you left without saying anything.”
Even with her blood alcohol level high and shirt damp from the beer
Hansen had spilled on her, Lark has a way of looking effortlessly perfect.
She doesn’t even try, and the worst part is she’s completely oblivious to it. I
would hate her if I didn’t know she’s truly a wonderful person on top of it
all.
She’s one of the good ones and that’s rare here. With a university as
prestigious as Olympic Sound comes a lot of money, and with a lot of
money comes a lot of corrupt and shady people. There’s a select few—
particularly a pair of brothers—that I know are in my best interest to avoid.
It’s best I don’t entangle myself in their dark worlds.
“I had to take a call.” I wave the phone in my hand at her as I walk up
the few steps of the stone patio.
 “You and Callan both keep sneaking off with these mystery calls,” Lark
comments, holding the door open for me. “I feel like I’m always searching
for one or the both of you.”
The smell of weed and spilled beer suffocate me when I reenter the
party. Should I be attending a party when I have less than sixteen hours on
my deadline? No, but pacing the walls of my small apartment for a third
night in a row felt unbearable. I thought getting out might help me finally
make up my mind.
Astor or Alabama?
Or there’s always option three where I hold out for a magical third
choice to fall on my lap. The option of dropping out of college for now and
just working did cross my mind. I could save up enough money to pay for
college on my own, but that would take years and completely throw me off
track from my plans and goals. I want to be a nurse practitioner, and to do
so I will need to get into a master’s program. A diploma from Olympic
Sound was supposed to be my magic ticket for that. I worked my ass off in
high school to make the grades to be accepted here because I knew I’d need
a scholarship to afford this school. Even if my mom was, and she’s
definitely not, willing to assist in paying for my education, my dad’s illness
plundered my family’s savings.
I think that’s one of the reasons she latched so hard onto Ivan. He has
money and isn’t afraid to flaunt it. She saw financial security in him.
A red solo cup full of clear liquid is waved in front of me, breaking my
train of thought. I take the offered cup from Zadie, who had magically
appeared, and look at it with uncertainty.
Reading my unspoken concerns, Zadie reassures me, “Don’t worry. I
poured it myself.” Her bright green eyes are surrounded by her smudged
makeup and her red lipstick has long worn off from the various drinks she’s
had. “Drink up and come dance with me!”
This is why I came here, right? To loosen up and clear my head.
 Before I can convince myself to get a cab and go home to stew over my
decision more, I toss the liquid back. The vodka burns as it goes down my
throat, but I look forward to its impending relaxing affect.

THREE DRINKS later and an hour of dancing, I’m sweaty and just buzzed
enough that the dread in my bones has been silenced. Looking at myself in
the dirty mirror of the downstairs bathroom, I adjust my short hair. I tie the
top half into a messy knot and leave the rest down. All my life I had waist
length hair, but when I got to college, I felt like I needed a change. It’s
progressively gotten shorter, but my current long bob is my favorite look.
“I have to pee!” someone slurs from outside the bathroom before they
begin banging on the closed door, alerting me that my time in here is up.
I barely get the door open before a girl dressed in hardly any clothes
pushes past me. She doesn’t even attempt to close the door before she sits
on the toilet and begins to relieve herself.
Shaking my head, I walk down the hallway and search for my friends.
I heard someone yell Callan’s name about twenty minutes ago, so I
know he’s still here somewhere. He hadn’t bothered to text me back when I
told him I’d be coming to Hansen’s party tonight. Lark is right about his
constant phone calls. I used to wish he’d tell me what he’s working on, but
now I don’t really care. It’s not like I’ve been forthcoming with my own
dealings. Why should I expect him to do the same?
When I showed up at the party, I found him already here, drinking on
the back deck with Hansen and their buddies. He gave me a halfhearted side
hug that I’d returned with the same enthusiasm, and a kiss on the head. His
attention was quickly stolen away by a crude joke from one of the football
players. I’d slunk away without a look back.
 Looking for familiar faces, I walk into a dark smokey room, and I lock
eyes with a pair that are so cold that I feel chills go down my spine.
Remember how I said there were people I tried my best to avoid? These
cold orbs belong to the youngest brother. He is the embodiment of “if looks
could kill,” but still I’d rather run into him than his older brother.
My feet skid to a stop and I’m just about to turn away when my eyes
zero in on what’s actually happening in this dark room.
His tattooed arms rest on the armrest of the chair and his black painted
fingernails are digging into the leather. The girl on her knees with her
mouth around his dick tries to come up for air, but he doesn’t allow it. His
lips part in a sneer as his hand leaves the leather armrest to thread through
the mussed strands of her hair. He holds her in place and her struggling
sounds of desperation fill my ears. She gags as he comes down her throat,
and the whole time, I can feel his icy gaze on me.
Where disgust should form in my belly, heat does instead. My lower
stomach muscles clench and a tingle runs down my spine. I should be
appalled by what I just witnessed, just as I should be appalled by Astor’s
offer, and yet, the emotion eludes me. It’s buried by a hunger and craving I
didn’t even know I had.
With one last fleeting look at the man hidden in the shadows, I turn
away with a fire burning in my belly and an ache between my thighs that
shouldn’t be there.
I search the face of each person I pass trying to find the one who could
possibly help ease the growing sensation. I’m at the level of drunkenness
where bad ideas are starting to sound like good ones. While the logical side
of me knows that Callan doesn’t want me any longer and my own
emotional ties to him are waning by the second, the physical—needy—side
of my brain knows that once upon a time, he knew how to please me in
ways no one ever has before. Though, the bar was low to start with, but I
digress.
 But right now, my body wants to relive some of those heated nights.
Hansen stumbles out of a dark doorway up ahead and I push through the
small group of students blocking my path to him.
“Hansen!” I shout, getting the tall football player’s attention. His head
turns around, searching the chaos for the source of the shouting. It’s when I
pull on the arm of his shirt that he finally sees me. “Hey, have you seen
Callan?”
With a huge, drunken, smile, Hansen’s muscular arm wraps around my
shoulder and he pulls me to his side. “Callan is my boy. My boy, man! You
know I love him like a brother, but Indie, baby, he doesn’t deserve you.”
His speech might be slurred but his message is clear. “You’re too good for
him.”
I can’t stop myself from laughing at this. “Thank you, Hansen.” I pat his
chest endearingly. “But I don’t know if that’s true. Actually, I know that’s
not true.”
If it were true, I wouldn’t be thinking about his dad, and I sure as shit
wouldn’t be thinking about the things he could do to my body. I wouldn’t
lie there at night, envisioning what it’d be like to go to him and allow him
to have me in any way he sees fit.
If I were good, I would feel shame for wanting to agree to Astor’s
agreement.
“Nah, don’t say that shit,” Hansen disagrees. “You’re a good one,
Indie.”
Hansen’s words fill my ears, but I’m no longer listening to him. Not
really.
For an hour, I didn’t think about Astor, but now that I’ve allowed a
single thought of him to reenter my brain, he’s consuming me once more.
Like a vortex, I’m sucked into my illicit daydreams of Astor Banes and his
dark promises.
 You would be mine. Mine to call upon, mine to have when I please, mine
to touch in any way I see fit.
Hansen cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back. “But to answer your
earlier question, Callan dipped out of here about ten minutes ago. I think he
was driving Zadie home. That girl thinks she can hold her liquor, but she
can’t for shit.” Someone calls his name across the room, and he pulls away
from me. “I’m serious, baby, go find yourself someone better.” His grin is
huge and encouraging when he looks over his shoulder at me. With a wink,
he departs into the crowd.
I stand there, thinking over my next moves. My hand taps a steady
rhythm on my bare thigh as I try to talk myself out of what I want to do.
You could learn to enjoy Alabama, Indie. Just take the fresh start and leave
everything behind. Leave him and his devious ways behind.
The thing is, I don’t think I’ll have to learn how to enjoy Astor. I
haven’t even tasted him, but somehow, I already know he’ll be my favorite
flavor.
Before I can convince myself to fly far away from here, I’m pulling the
phone out of my small purse and typing in the phone number I’d committed
to memory three days ago.
My heart thuds violently against my ribs as the phone rings, and I
honestly couldn’t tell you if my hands were shaking from nerves or
excitement.
He answers on the third ring and the sound of him saying my name
makes my breath still in my throat.
“Indie.”
“Are you home?” I ask once air fills my lungs once more.
There’s a long, heavy pause before he speaks again. “No. I stopped by
my office after a dinner meaning.” Only someone like Astor would still be
working at this hour. On a weekend.
“Will you be there much longer?”
 “An hour or so. Why do you ask?”
I’m already walking toward the front door of the house when I tell him,
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
SEVEN
 ASTOR

HER FINGERS TURN the lock on the handle as she rests her back on the
door she’d just entered through.
True to her word, it took fifteen minutes for Indie to come to me and I
watched each one of those minutes go by on the clock on the wall like a
student eagerly waiting for the school day to be done. The knowledge that
with each tick of the clock’s hand she was drawing closer to being with me
—to being mine—made my blood warm and my cock strain against the
zipper of my slacks. Never have I waited this long for something, but those
months of restraint and patience are about to pay off.
There was a sliver of doubt lingering in my brain while I waited for her
to arrive that she wasn’t coming here to agree to my offer but instead the
Alabama one. But with one look at her flushed cheeks and trembling hands
from the adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream, I know my
predictions were right. She was always going to come to me and choose me.
The black T-shirt style dress she wears is tight, accentuating each one of
the curves that hide beneath the fabric. The clunky black ankle boots give
her another couple inches of height, something I will appreciate when I
have her bent over my desk.
I sit back in my seat and clasp my hands. “Tell me.”
 Indie wets her bottom lip as she searches for her words. “I want to stay
here,” she finally manages to say.
“No.” My head shakes slowly, making her face fall. “Tell me what I
actually want to hear.”
Not understanding my request, she stares at me with confusion in her
pretty features. It would seem I need to better explain myself.
Pushing back in the leather chair, I stand to my full height. As I round
the large desk, I begin to undo the sterling silver cuff links in the sleeves of
my white button down. I’d abandoned the sports coat in my car when I
arrived back at the office after dinner. It hadn’t been my original plan to
come back here, but with Indie’s time allotment running out, I feared I’d go
home and stare at the clock. My patience was disappearing faster than her
time.
As it was, there were a handful of occasions in the past three days that I
drove past her apartment. I had to stop myself from going to her door and
demanding her decision right then and there. Just like my other business
dealings, I had to respect the deal we had made.
Walking toward her, I drop the cuff links in the pocket of my slacks and
begin to slowly roll up the sleeves on my shirt. She stays resting against the
door like it’s her safety blanket, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“If you are staying here, you know and fully understand what the price
is, yes?” I grace her with a quick glance while continuing with my sleeves.
“You understand what you’ll be if you stay here?”
I come to a stop just inches in front of her, claiming her space as my
own. In this position, Indie is forced to tip her head back so she can
continue to look at me. Would her eyes still stare at me with such hope and
desire if I were to force her onto her knees right here?
“Yes,” she breathes. “I understand.”
Her nerves and stiff posture soften when I caress her face with my
fingers. Her eyes flutter closed with contentment, thick lashes brushing
against her cheekbones, but the sweet moment is ripped away when I
harshly thread my fingers through the short strands of her hair. Amber eyes
clash with mine once more and a startled gasp escapes her lips as I force her
head back even farther.
Dipping my head, I bite out between clenched teeth, “Then say it.”
I expect to find a flicker of apprehension reflected on her face, but to
my utter delight, there isn’t a single trace.
She’s ready.
“I want to be yours.”
Her declaration has chills of pleasure snaking down my spine and limbs
before convening at my cock. It presses against my zipper, aching for her. I
should take her right here up against this door, but for just a little while
longer, I will have to gather my remaining control.
“Prove it. Show me that you want me.”
I pull harder on the strands of her hair, and she hisses out a breath.
“How?”
“Touch yourself,” I demand, releasing her and stepping away from her.
“Touch your cunt and show me how wet you can get without me laying a
single finger on you.”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip while a beautiful blush rises on her
cheekbones. “I don’t…”
“Don’t what? Want to?” I offer as a possible answer as I slowly stalk
backward to my desk. If she’s already refusing me this early on, I may have
a lot more work cut out for me than I originally thought. “Or perhaps, it’s
that you don’t know how?” Perching on the edge of my desk, I wait for an
answer.
Like she’s trying to hide her growing, and obvious, blush, she stares at
the carpet when she speaks. “I know how—of course, I know how. It’s just
private. I just don’t do it in front of… people.”
 My eyes narrow in suspicion. “You’ve never fingered yourself while
your lover watched?” More importantly, none of her past lovers have
bothered to ask her to? What an oversight on their part.
A small head shake is the only reply I get.
“Look at me.” My order has her head snapping up like someone has
struck her. “Let’s get something straight, Indie. For the duration of our
arrangement, your private moments are no longer your own. They now
belong to me, just as you do. Your body, your orgasms, and your fucking
tears are mine. As are the remainder of your firsts. I’m going to take each
one of them and claim them as my own. You say you’ve never finger
fucked yourself in front of a lover? Come here and let me be the first to
witness such a sight.”
Her face is full of apprehension, but I can see the spark in her eyes.
Indie can deny it, but my order thrills her. “Okay,” she agrees after a
steadying breath.
“Good girl.” I praise. “Stand in front of me.”
Her footsteps are slow and measured as she walks toward me. Just like
she did when she was before me last, her fingers fiddle with the thin gold
chain around her throat. Once she’s a foot in front of me, my hand lifts and
she comes to a stop.
My eyes start at her boots and trail up her bare legs. “Are you wearing
panties?”
“Yes.”
“Take them off.”
Indie hesitates only a second before her fingers trail up her thighs. My
teeth grind as her hips subtly sway while she pulls the scrap of black lace
from her body. The fabric falls to her ankles and one leg at a time, she steps
out of them. Boldly, she locks eyes with me and bends at the waist to scoop
them up.
 Standing back to her full height, she dangles the thong from her
fingertip. A move that reminds me of when I gave her the towel in July.
“Give them to me.”
I take the offered trophy from her finger and immediately bring them to
my face. Her eyes widen as I take a greedy inhale of the fabric. “You’re
going to smell even better when you’re completely dripping with need for
me.” There’s already a dampness in the fabric, but I want to see just how
wet she already is. My head nods at the chair a foot in front of me. It’s the
very one she’d sat in just days ago. “Sit down.”
Gingerly, she sits down with her hands in her lap and her legs closed
tight together. The dress she wears hikes up another inch, but not enough
for me to see what I crave. She’s so close, I could reach out and touch her
myself, but I want to see her do it first. I want to see just how much power I
have over my good girl.
“Are you going to deprive me of what I want, Indie?” My voice comes
out with a harsh bite. A clear warning to her.
She swallows hard. “No, I’m not.”
Inch by inch, her legs slowly open for me until I’m rewarded with the
sweet sight of her pretty pussy, but at this angle it’s still not enough for me.
It’s obscured and I want to see it all.
Reaching down, my hands wrap around her calves. Indie’s gasp echoes
through the room when I plant her booted feet on either side of me on the
desk—effectively caging myself between her legs. This position change
forces her to slide lower on the leather chair and spread her legs wider. Like
a beast, a hum of satisfaction comes from my throat when it gives me the
exact view I want.
Every piece of her is on display for me.
“Show me how you come on your own fingers.”
EIGHT
 INDIE

NEVER IN MY life have I felt more self-conscious and turned on than I do

with my feet on the desk, spread eagle with Astor between my legs. There’s
no hiding from him, no angles that I can turn to spare myself from some of
the embarrassment I’m experiencing. I’m completely bared to him.
It’s an odd thing to be riding the line between excitement and fear, but if
I’m going to be Astor’s, it’s a place I’m going to have to get comfortable
being. Somehow the fear makes it all even more intense.
Astor’s gray eyes stare at my pussy like he’s seeing his long-awaited
prize. And it only furthers the heat forming in my core and makes my need
for him grow.
This isn’t the first time I’ve used my fingers to get off, and it’s not the
first time I’ll do it thinking about Astor Banes either. But it’s the first time
I’ve ever touched myself while someone watched. I don’t know why it
never occurred to me that doing something like this in front of a partner
could be exhilarating, but the second he told me that’s what he wanted,
anticipation shot through me.
Starting from the gold charm around my neck, I drag my fingers
downward. While I’m thrilled to get the chance to ease the ache between
my legs, I’m more intrigued by the way Astor’s eyes narrow and his nostril
flare when my fingertips trace along the seam of my pussy. Somehow,
pleasing him feels more important than pleasing myself.
Air rushes through my parted lips when I make a slow, teasing circle
around my clit. I’m not sure if I’m taunting myself or Astor, but I do it
again, slower this time. The only tell it affects Astor is the way his hands
tighten around the edge of the desk and his knuckles turn white.
Repeating myself, I add pressure this time and my hips flex instinctually
upward. When I masturbate at home, under the protection of my sheets, it
takes a lot of patience for my body to become receptive to my own fingers.
I can get there, but it usually takes me more time than I’m willing to give.
My pink vibrator gets the job done a lot faster.
But under Astor’s watchful gaze, my body is responding faster than it
ever has. It makes me wonder what it is about him that is so different from
the others. At one point, I thought there was unmeasurable chemistry
between Callan and I but knowing how Astor can make me feel with just a
single look, I know the heat I thought I once had would be tepid in
comparison.
My fingers travel lower and tease my opening. I know what I’ll find
when I sink them inside. Astor said he wanted to make me wet without
touching me but when I pressed against that door with his hand threaded in
my hair, my body was already reacting to him.
“That’s it,” Astor encourages as I push one digit inside. “Get yourself so
wet that you’re dripping for me when I finally touch you. I want you ready
to take my cock.”
“I’m ready,” I moan, adding another finger. It quickly becomes coated
just like the other one. “I want you now.”
“Begging for me already?” His taunt only adds to the pulsing in my
pussy and making my nipples tighten. “Give me what I want first, then I’ll
do the same for you. Keep going, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl.
 The name sends me reeling. My fingers move faster, thrusting as deep
as I can manage myself. I know that if he were the one touching me, he
would be able to reach all those sensitive places hidden inside of me. My
eyes glance at his large hands still wrapped around the desk like he’s
holding himself back. Fuck, I bet he could reach places I didn’t even know
existed.
And that’s why when I drag my fingers out of my drenched pussy and
begin to circle my clit with them once more, I imagine it’s him sending
shocks of pleasure through me. That it’s his callused hands making my core
muscles quiver.
A sharp jolt of ecstasy has my legs closing and my feet lifting off the
desk as they pull back toward me. Astor’s hands lock around my ankles and
force my legs back open. He places my feet back on the desk and instead of
letting me go again, they remain in place, keeping in the position he wants.
The idea of being restrained has always intrigued me, but I’ve never felt
ballsy enough to admit that to any of my past boyfriends. I get the feeling
that it won’t have to be a discussion I have with Astor. It will simply
happen.
My pace quickens and my movements become erratic, gone are the
slow teasing circles from before. The orgasm I’ve been chasing is so close,
I can feel the hum building under my skin.
All I need is one little push, and I’ll be sent over the edge.
And Astor knows this. “I want to know if the sounds you make are as
sweet as the rest of you.” His words wash over me like a liquid fire. “Come
for me.”
My orgasm bursts through me, and I lose all control of my body. I can’t
breathe as I writhe in the chair, riding wave after wave of pleasure while my
fingers continue to strum my clit. My legs try to close involuntarily again,
but Astor’s vise-like grip keeps me in place and forces me open so he can
watch as my pussy pulses with each chaotic wave.
 His hands fall away once I regain control of my body. My vision clears
and I find his gray eyes licking over me like a starved man who’s just been
served dinner.
“Beautiful,” Astor praises darkly. “Just like I pictured it—better even.”
The fact that he’s pictured such a thing sends another flood of heat
through my veins. Were we imagining such a moment at the same time?
While I lay in bed thinking of what it’d be like to cross the line with him,
was he imagining me spread out before him?
He leans forward and looms over me. I’ve been close enough this whole
time that he could’ve touch me if he so wished, but that’s not what he
wanted. That moment has passed, and I know from the hungry look in his
eyes that he’s grown tired of being just an observer.
Starting at my ankles, Astor’s fingertips trail up the inside of my legs.
Goosebumps follow in their wake and shivers shoot across my skin. I
expect him to reach for my pussy, to touch me like I hope, but he doesn’t.
He clamps his fingers around my hand that still rests on my lower stomach.
“Tell me, Indie, while you touched yourself, who consumed your
thoughts? Who did you think about while you came? Callan, perhaps?” His
question has my head snapping up and eyes flaring. The smirk on his face
lets me know that my reaction pleases him. “Or did you think of me? Did
you imagine it was my hands worshiping your cunt?”
I swallow hard, finding the ability to speak again. To speak the complete
and utter truth. “I thought of you. I have since July.”
I’m forced to drop my feet back to the floor when Astor’s hand tightens
around my wrist, and he pulls me back into a sitting position. He examines
my glistening fingers and brings them to his mouth. Even if I wanted to, I
couldn’t pull my hand away from him. His grip is unwavering—borderline
painful.
My mouth waters watching as he sucks my fingers clean. His eyes lock
with mine and the dark look that’s reflected in them makes me choke on my
breath. With each pass of his tongue on my fingertips, the flame he ignited
in my core grows hotter.
Removing my fingers from his mouth, Astor’s features twist with
arrogance. “I can taste your honesty.” With a harsh yank, he forces me back
to my feet. I sway for a second, uneasy on my feet. “And it’s fucking
delicious.”
Everything happens so fast. One second, I’m standing in front of him
and the next I’m bent over the desk that he’d just seconds ago been sitting
on. Standing behind me, Astor’s hand trails between my thighs before
delving into my wet center. His hiss of approval fills me with a sense of
pride.
“My pretty girl does just what she’s asked,” he praises, the tip of two of
his fingers running along my opening. “You’re dripping for me, Indie.”
“Yes.”
The sound of a zipper has my head turning and cheek pressing into the
cool surface of the desk. Anticipation pools in my stomach like lava and my
knees already feel weak at the thought of what’s to come.
“I’ve waited too long for this,” is the only warning I get before the thick
head of his cock is shoved into me.
NINE
 ASTOR

I THOUGHT I WAS PREPARED, that I’d envisioned this in my head

enough times that I knew what it’d be like to finally have her, but I was
wrong. Nothing could have prepared me for how it feels to be fully seated
inside her pulsing pussy. I’m not sure if it’s the triumph I feel knowing that
my waiting is over and she is finally mine, or if it’s simply just her. That
she is this sweet and tight, it wouldn’t have mattered if I had to wait or
work for her, Indie still would have felt like a dose of pure ecstasy straight
to my veins.
It’s something I will never know for sure, and in this moment, I can’t
find a single fuck to give. Not when her pussy is clamping down on me like
it is, and her beautiful noises are filling my ears.
The guilt for taking her right from under my son’s nose has always been
scarce, but it’s completely nonexistent now. Now that I know what it’s like
to have her as my own, the emotion eludes me entirely. Something that feels
as good as Indie shouldn’t cause guilt.
I pull almost completely out of her before plunging back into her slick
heat. I pull a ragged moan from her. The sound vibrates off the floor to
ceiling glass windows. It’s too late for people to be at the office, but the
chances of the cleaning crew lingering about is high.
 My last name carries an unmatched level of protection. Even still, if
word were to get out about my dealings with Indie, there would be
whispers, but no one is stupid enough to do it in my presence or on my
campus. The people in my social groups wouldn’t dare try ruin my
reputation because they know they’d never win. If they became too bold
and truly attempted it, it would take one call to my family on the east coast,
and they’d be taken care of quietly and efficiently. And the best part? My
hands remain perfectly clean of blood, like they have for years.
Like Indie, I hadn’t even bothered to remove my own clothing. My
pants are pushed down just enough to free my erection. My hand releases
her hip to pull the thong I’d confiscated from her out of my pants pocket.
My other hand threads through her hair and I yank her head back toward
me, forcing her back to arch at an aggressive angle. Wide eyes collide with
mine as I stuff the lace into her mouth.
“Don’t spit these out,” I order. “Be a good girl and keep quiet. We can’t
have anyone hearing you.”
Her protest is cut off when I thrust into her again in a long deep stroke.
Her groans come out strangled and muffled, just the way I need them to be.
“I’m going to take you so fast and hard you will still feel me inside of
you for days. Every time you move, you’re going to be reminded of what I
did to you. That I’ve stolen you and claimed you as my own.” There are
some lines that aren’t meant to be crossed, stealing another man’s woman is
one of them. I saw that line and set it on fire. Rejoicing as it burned.
Releasing her hip from my punishing grasp, I lift one of her legs off the
ground and up onto the desk. Her nails dig into the surface, and I wonder if
I will find scratch marks in the wood finish tomorrow. For some reason, the
thought of her leaving her mark on my property thrills me. It’s evidence that
she was there.
I thrash into her, not letting up or slowing down. This isn’t for her. It’s
for me. She’s already come once tonight, and if she comes again now, it’ll
be an added bonus for her, but it’s not my priority. Not when I’m trying to
leave my mark on both her skin and soul.
I may not be the first man to fuck her, but I am going make it so that all
her past lovers become dull memories, and her future lovers become
inadequate. Each man she fucks after me will pale in comparison to me and
what I’ve done to her body. Never will she forget me, and that’s another
way I will leave my mark on her.
When our arrangement has long passed, she will still think of me. I will
own her memories.
I’ll push her to her limit, taking everything she’s willing to give, and
stealing what she’s not. Her pussy walls clamp around me with each violent
thrust and her hips move, matching my rhythm. She doesn’t beg me to stop
around her gag or push me away. She eagerly takes it and thanks me with
her chorus of moans.
My eyes watch as my cock disappears in and out of her soaked pussy.
It’s a sight that will be seared into my brain for all my years to come. One I
will savor on my deathbed.
The tight ring of muscle catches my attention and wicked ideas fill my
mind. “Has any man ever had you here?” I question darkly as my thumb
presses against her asshole on my next thrust. Instantly, her body stiffens
and her head snaps in my direction. The look of pure fear in her eyes gives
me my answer. “I look forward to being your first.” I continue to add
pressure with my thumb, but don’t push inside. Yet. “We’ll work on getting
your ass ready to take my thick cock soon, Indie.”
There might be apprehension in her eyes, but the heavy moan that
comes from her gagged mouth and the tightening of her pussy around my
dick lets me know the idea excites her.
I’m getting close and my fingers dig into her hips, no doubt leaving
marks in her sun-tanned skin. My teeth grind as I try to keep my release at
bay so I can stay in her warm cunt as long as possible, but I can’t hold it off
any longer. Based on the flutter building in her walls and the cries she’s
making, Indie is just as close.
Pulling out of her, I flip her violently onto her back. I’m too far gone
that I can’t tell if the cry she makes is from pain or pleasure. Fisting my
cock, I stroke it twice more before I come all over her bare pussy. Indie
groans, throwing her head back and I bite out a harsh curse at the sight.
Using one hand to keep her legs spread wide for me, I spread my cum
through her soaked and swollen pussy. She jolts when I brush over her clit.
She’s still close, her orgasm just a hair’s breadth away.
“I could get you off with one touch right now, couldn’t I?” I pant, still
out of breath. “Should I reward you for being so good?”
Big amber eyes silently plead with me as her head nods desperately.
I could deprive her, but instead I decide to please her. “Okay, pretty girl.
Fall apart for me.”
And she does.
TEN
 ASTOR

SHE’S TRYING to get her ass spanked until it blisters, I swear.

One week into our arrangement and she’s already ignoring my
messages. That was part of our deal, that she would come when I called, but
for five hours now, she’s failed to respond or show up at my door like the
good little girl I know she can be.
Instead of paying attention to the board meeting like I should have been,
I stared at my dark phone screen, and silently became more enraged.
Exiting the meeting as abruptly as I did had many confused looks being
shot in my direction, but I couldn’t stand to sit there when Indie is already
defying me. We agreed she would be at my beck and call for eight months.
Not eight days.
My hand grips the leather steering wheel tighter as I accelerate around a
minivan driving too slow for my liking. The engine of my Porsche Cayenne
is the only sound to occupy the short drive to her apartment. I’m too angry
to listen to the radio.
My tires squeal when I turn down the one-way street she lives on. From
the research I’d done on her, I know exactly which windows belong to her
studio apartment. While I approved of her being smart and keeping her
white curtains pulled tight, I frequently found myself disappointed I
couldn’t get a glimpse of her.
 But it’s not the windows that draw my attention this time, it’s the yellow
moving truck parked in front of the building and a forlorn looking Indie
standing on the sidewalk, watching as pieces of furniture are hauled into the
vehicle.
A mover wearing a T-shirt the same color as the moving truck walks
past her with a woven basket of various things. Indie shouts something at
him and jumps in front of him to stop him from walking off. The man’s face
pulls with irritation and yells back at her. She tries to reach for the basket,
but he snatches it away from her.
When she tries again and this time he pushes her back, my foot slams on
the brakes. I’m throwing the car into park and abandoning my vehicle in the
middle of the street before Indie even has a chance to react to being pushed.
Stalking up behind the pair, I call her name, “Indie!” It comes out in a
harsh snap, my annoyance with her blatantly ignoring me still evident in my
tone. Heads turn in my direction and wary eyes scan me. Indie glances over
her shoulder briefly in a distracted manner, but instantly does a double take
when she finds me walking in her direction.
Her lips mouth “fuck” before turning back around to face the man with
the basket.
That’s right, pretty girl, you’re in trouble.
Hands clasped behind my back, I come to a stop next to her and look
between the dueling pair. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” the mover snaps. “She’s just getting in the way of the job we
were hired to do.”
“You have no right to take this,” Indie’s hands grab for the basket full of
what looks to be various personal items like picture frames, a jewelry box,
and pieces of random clothing. “Everything in front of the fireplace is mine
to keep. That was the deal she made. This basket was part of that pile.”
“I took this out of the bedroom,” he argues, not backing down. “It goes
with the rest.”
 “Why are you lying?” Indie’s hands thread through her messy hair. It
looks like she may have fallen asleep with wet hair. Scanning the rest of
her, I find she’s still wearing her pajamas and slippers. The thin cotton
shorts do very little to conceal her ass. She’s dressed like she’s been resting
all day but the dark circles under her eyes make me think she hasn’t slept at
all.
Not liking that I haven’t been given an answer yet, I hold her chin in my
fingers and force her head to turn in my direction. The mover takes the
opportunity to slink away.
Indie stares up at me, the same defeat that shone in her eyes when she
first came to me for help resides there again. “What are you doing here?”
she asks instead of answering my silent question.
My grip tightens on her face. “Really? That’s all you have to say to
me?” The realization she’s made a mistake is immediate. Her mouth opens
to speak again, but I cut her off. “You ignore my messages all day—a strike
against our agreement—and then force me to come and search you out? I
don’t come to you, Indie. You come to me.” I glance at the jackass in the
ugly yellow shirt loading the basket into the truck. “And when I do find
you, another man is putting his hands on you? Have I not made it
abundantly clear that I’m the only one who gets to touch you?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s not like I asked him to touch me.”
“It happened nonetheless,” I snap. “I don’t repeat myself, Indie, but this
one time I will. What is happening here?”
Her eyes squeeze closed like she’s fighting tears. “Another gift from my
mother and Ivan.” She tries to turn her head away from me and I reluctantly
allow it. “I keep thinking she couldn’t stoop any lower, but she keeps
proving me wrong. I never thought she’d make me homeless.”
“I thought you paid for your housing yourself?”
“I did—I do! The private lessons I teach for young riders a couple times
a week pay for the apartment, but it’s Mom’s name on the lease. I couldn’t
qualify for the apartment on my own because I didn’t have any credit to my
name. Mom never allowed me to get a credit card or even pay for my own
phone bill. It wasn’t until I turned eighteen that I got those things, but by
then, she’d already put her name on the dotted line. It never occurred to me
when I accepted her offer to sign for the apartment that she’d use it against
me. I thought she was doing it to be helpful and kind like she used to be
before Dad died. Which I now know was foolish of me.”
My eyes narrow. “You really believed the woman who allowed you to
be charged with theft would allow you to stay in an apartment with her
name on it? Surely, you can’t be that naïve.”
“I’m sorry for holding out hope that she would still be my mother and
care about me. It’s a mistake I won’t make again.”
“Good.”
It would be hypocritical of me to criticize Indie’s mother seeing as I’m
by no means the picture of a perfect parent. Far from it, but the more that
comes to light about her and the new husband, the more I believe the world
would be a better place without them in it. Indie’s life, without a doubt, will
be exponentially improved without them being permanent fixtures.
“Did she pay the fine to break the lease?”
Indie nods. “Yeah. Showed up at my door at six this morning and told
me I had an hour before the movers showed up. Told me I could keep as
much as I could pack in that time, the rest was to be taken for donation or
the landfill.”
Two movers carrying a cheap looking loveseat walk past us to the truck.
Indie watches helplessly as her belongings are taken one by one from her.
“Where do you plan on staying in the meantime?” There’s a long waitlist
for a place in the dorms on campus and unless her credit score has
improved in the short time she’s had building it, I doubt she could qualify
for another apartment so quickly.
 With an exhausted sigh, Indie rubs her face. She looks like she needs a
shower and a good night’s sleep. “Lark offered me her couch for the time
being. It’s a small studio apartment, but it’s better than paying for a hotel
room every night. We’ll make it work.”
This new living arrangement won’t work for me at all. “How are we
supposed to keep our dealings a secret when you’re living with a fellow
student? Your constant sneaking off will become noticeable, and one
accidental slip of the tongue to her could ruin it all.” Another pair of men
carrying out an entertainment center forces us to step off to the side of the
walkway. “Your body is supposed to be at my constant disposal. You should
be rested and ready for me at any given time. That won’t happen if you’re
sleeping on some college student’s fucking couch.”
“I don’t have any other options right now. Until my credit score is
higher, and I’ve saved up enough money from my lessons for first and last
month’s rent, I can’t get my own place. I apologize if that puts a kink in
your plans for me, Mr. Banes,” she snarls my name like a curse.
I step into her and sneer close to her face. “Watch your fucking tone and
remember who the fuck you’re talking to, Indie.”
The fight instantly melts from her body and her eyes fall to the slippers
on her feet. “Yes, sir.”
Finding her response more than satisfactory, I retreat a step and watch
the commotion around me. Solutions and options circulate in my brain, but
there’s only one that’s truly acceptable to me. “Go collect whatever remains
of your belongings,” I order.
“What?” She frowns. “Why?”
“You’re coming home with me.”
“Why would you want that? That’s not part of our deal.”
It never occurred to me to have her live with me for the duration of our
arrangement, but now I am wondering why I hadn’t thought of it before. It’s
brilliant really. “But you’re wrong. This plays perfectly into our deal. What
better way to have quick access to you and your sweet body than to have
you sleeping right down the hall from me? This way I don’t have to wait for
you to come to me. I can simply start every morning with you as breakfast
and fall asleep with the smell of your pussy on my skin.”
My words cause a flush to form on her cheeks. “This doesn’t feel like a
good idea. What about Callan? What we’re doing—what we’ve done
already—is wrong. We’re not officially broken up and that’s bad enough,
but now you want me to move into his home?”
If she knew the full truth when it comes to her situation with Callan, she
wouldn’t be experiencing any doubt or shame over the game we’re
currently playing together. That’s a clarity that I can’t offer her; it’s
something my son must set right himself.
“When was the last time you had a real conversation with Callan? Not
one over text, but face to face? Let me rephrase that, when was the last time
you actually laid eyes on Callan?”
Her teeth bite into her bottom lip. “It’s been a week or so,” Indie’s
admission is low, just barely a whisper.
“And yet you are standing here trying to tell me that you’re still
together.” My head shakes at her.
“It’s the principle of it. There needs to be a clear end to our relationship,
not this weird uncommunicative drift-apart thing we’re doing. We need to
say the words face to face, not over text. I’ve tried, but he keeps ignoring
my messages about meeting somewhere,” she sighs in frustration. “And
when it finally happens, it’s going to be even weirder to be living in my ex-
boyfriend’s home.”
“It’s my home,” I correct. “And I’ll deal with my son. Now, go get your
things, Indie.”
ELEVEN
 INDIE

FOR MONTHS, I avoided Astor and his lake house, and now here I am,
hanging my clothes up in the guestroom walk-in closet. The guest room that
is right down the hall from Astor’s bedroom.
If someone had told me back in July that not only would I be living with
Astor Banes, but also fucking him like he’s the only thing that can provide
me with oxygen, I would have laughed my ass off. Even now, it feels
surreal. I keep waiting for someone to pinch me and wake me up from the
fever dream my life has become.
With my clothes neatly packed away, I begin pushing the handful of
boxes and baskets I’d had time to pack across the room. There isn’t any
reason to unpack those as well. It’s my plan to be out of Astor’s home as
soon as possible. I need my own space I can escape to after he’s finished
afflicting my body with his devious ways. A place where I can collect my
thoughts away from his intense gaze.
He was right that night in his office. I was going to feel him for days
after he’d ruthlessly taken me on his desk. Two days later, when he
summoned me back, my pussy was still sore. To my utter surprise, the zing
of pain when he fucked me again ended up increasing my pleasure.
I’d expected to discover new things about myself during my time with
Astor, but I wasn’t prepared for them to be revealed so fast. Things I never
knew I wanted are being taught to me daily.
And each day I wake up eager to learn what’s next.
Pushing the last cardboard box into the closet, I turn to grab the
container I had filled with the ribbons Jupiter and I won together. They’d
been the second thing I’d packed, right after the basket with my pictures.
My already broken heart cracked more when the mover refused to give the
basket back to me.
I should have been better prepared for my mom and Ivan’s next moves.
Astor is right, taking the apartment from me was an obvious choice for
them. I don’t know why I continue to naïvely believe that my mom will one
day return to the woman who raised me. There’s no way that she’s always
been this cruel and bitter. I remember walking the pasture with her and
picking wildflowers in the summer, and I remember decorating cookies in
the kitchen. My dad had taken a picture of us with blue frosting coating our
teeth. The very picture was one of the ones in the basket from earlier.
Where is that mom? Where is the woman who read me bedtime stories?
I think she died when my dad did because I don’t recognize the vile
woman she’s become in the past three years.
Blowing the hair that’s fallen from my short ponytail out of my eyes, I
reach down for the basket of ribbons but stop short when I spot something
sitting just inside the door of the room. I’m not sure when it was placed
there, but it makes an embarrassingly large smile grow on my lips.
The basket with my pictures and grandma’s old jewelry box is here.
How? I watched him load it into the moving truck.
Surely Astor wouldn’t have retrieved it for me. That would be wildly
out of character for him and borderline unbelievable. Right?
Walking to the open doorway, I look down the hallway for signs of him,
but it’s quiet with zero sign of movement. Or Astor.
He’d disappeared after helping me carry the boxes inside, saying he’d
give me time to settle in. As if I could ever really settle in here. I feel
ridiculously out of place. Everything is neat and pristine, not a single sign
of clutter anywhere. I’m almost afraid to touch anything.
Stashing the magically appearing basket in the closet with the rest of my
belongings, I disappear into the attached bathroom that’s made completely
of white marble and gold fixtures. I’ll search for Astor after I’ve had a
chance to wash this horrible day off me.

I SHIELD my eyes from the late afternoon sun, watching as the golden
eagle cuts through the sky with an elegance that’s hard to put into words.
The animal is magnificent on its own but watching how it works with Astor
is a sight to behold. They make it look effortless where I know it’s anything
but. It’s evident in the way they respond to each other that years of patience
and trust went into this relationship.
Astor releases a long, low whistle and the bird of prey swoops back
down to where Astor waits. The animal is an alarming size, but Astor
doesn’t bat an eye when it lands on his gloved arm. The wingspan has to be
over six feet long and I can see the wicked sharp talons from where I stand
on the deck above them.
He hasn’t noticed me observing them, but I prefer it that way. I want to
watch him like this for as long as I can.
There’s always a swirling storm circulating around Astor. His energy is
turbulent and untamed, but I’ve never seen him calmer that he is now,
working with his eagle. It’s the same kind of peace I found while working
with Jupiter.
He pulls out a hunk of raw meat from the leather pouch on his hip and
walks across the yard toward the enclosure located on the other side of the
property. Say what you want about Astor Banes, but he truly cares about
that animal. The expensive state-of-the-art aviary he had custom built
proves that.
I’m sitting in one of the patio chairs checking my phone for any updates
from Tessa when Astor returns to the house ten minutes later. He doesn’t
say anything, just leans against the deck railing and stares at me. His gray
eyes lick over my skin, causing liquid heat to spread through my body.
“Your whistle command reminds me of something my dad used to do,” I
start, needing to break the silence. “He trained all his horses to respond to a
certain whistle. It always reminded me of a bird’s call. He’d stand at the
pasture gate and do it. No matter how far they were, the horses always
heard him and came running. When he became too sick to ride and gave me
Jupiter, I would use the same whistle every time I entered the barn. Jupiter
would always whinny back from his stall. It’s like it became our way of
greeting each other. It became a habit I guess because I still do it every time
I enter the barn I teach my lessons at. I know Jupiter is gone, but a small
part of me still expects him to answer.”
Astor doesn’t offer any kind of response to my story other than a small
nod of his head. It’s the only proof I have that he’d even heard me speak.
Putting my phone down on the small side table, I sit up straighter in my
seat and clear my throat. “Does he have a name?” My head nods in the
direction of the eagle’s enclosure.
“He does.”
My lips twitch at his very on-brand answer. “Are you going to tell me
what it is?”
The fabric of his black button down pulls tight around his shoulders
when he crosses his arms in front of him. He might be twenty or more years
older than them, but Astor is in better shape than most of the college
students I know. I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing him without a shirt,
but I would bet money that there’s a nice set of abs hiding under there.
“What will you give me in return?”
 He wants me to walk into the trap he’s just cleverly laid, but
unfortunately for him, I’m a quick learner.
Uncrossing my legs, I stand up from the wooden chair. “That’s a trick
question, Mr. Banes. You and I both know that I don’t have to give you
anything because it’s already yours to take. That was the deal, was it not?”
A smirk spreads across my lips.
The approval in his eyes makes the muscles in my lower stomach
tighten. “Good answer.”
“I thought so.” I stop in front of him, just far enough that he can’t reach
me.
Astor’s eyes lock on where my fingers play with the short hem of the
flowy sundress I’d thrown on after my shower. He doesn’t look up when he
answers. “His name is Periphas. In the legends, Periphas was a mortal king
whose following’s adoration began to rival Zeus’s. Out of anger and
jealousy, Zeus had the king turned into a giant golden eagle. Periphas then
became the mighty God’s personal messenger and companion.”
“I didn’t know you were into Greek mythology.”
“I’m not,” he corrects instantly. “My mother was. She lived in Greece in
her youth and would tell my brothers and me the myths as bedtime stories.
The one of Zeus and his eagle always stuck with me and when I got my
license to own a golden eagle myself, the name seemed fitting.”
Astor sharing personal details of his life feels like something that
doesn’t come naturally to him, but I appreciate him telling me the story
nonetheless. Makes me understand him just a small amount more.
He holds his hand out to me. “Come here.” It’s not a request, it’s an
order. Releasing the hem of my dress, I place my hand in his much larger
one. He pulls me forward by it before placing it on the railing of the deck.
“Put your other hand up there too and don’t fucking move them.”
The shift in his tone and demeanor is abrupt, but my body is happy to
go along with it.
 Stepping behind me he begins to trail his fingers down either side of my
body. He starts at my bare shoulders and slowly travels down to the hem of
my dress I’d been fiddling with just moments before.
“I want you to wear this dress tomorrow at dinner,” he rasps close to my
ear as his hands push the fabric up. He hums in approval when he finds I’m
wearing nothing under my dress.
Confused by what dinner he’s talking about, I try to turn around to face
him. The second my fingers lift off the railing, his palm comes down on my
ass in a harsh smack. “What did I tell you?”
Startled and confused by my body’s reaction to his strike, it takes me a
second to fully comprehend his question. Swallowing, I say, “Don’t move
my hands.”
“Precisely,” he murmurs. “Bend forward and spread your legs, pretty
girl. I want to see my cunt.”
His.
Every piece of me is his.
I do what he says, exposing myself to him. “What dinner are you talking
about?” I whisper, hands flexing on the railing.
My breath evacuates my lungs in a whoosh when his hand delves
between my thighs and thick fingers skim my pussy.
“Callan has asked that we have a family dinner tomorrow. His mother is
in town.” His tone doesn’t match the message he’s delivering. It’s too gruff
—thick sounding. Astor’s voice like this is quickly becoming my favorite
thing. It has a weird way of calming me but making me nervous at the same
time. “You will be joining us.”
It will be hard enough to look Callan in the eyes knowing I’m fucking
his father, but now I’m supposed to sit across from him at a table and enjoy
a meal…while his mother is there.
A nightmare…I’ve found myself in a complete and utter nightmare, and
I only have myself to blame. I chose this.
 The only thing stopping me from freaking the fuck out over these
impromptu dinner plans are Astor’s fingers. My hips roll, greedily begging
for more as he massages my clit.
“Does that feel good?” he growls into my ear.
My head nods in jerky movements.
“Words, Indie.” I suck in a deep breath as Astor pinches my clit
between his fingers. A clear warning. “I want to hear your words.”
“Yes, it feels good.”
He rewards me by restarting the slow circles, this time increasing the
pressure. As I proved to him, I can come by my own fingers, but I think I
much prefer his.
“Do you want me to get you off like this? Right here on my deck where
anyone on the lake could see us?” His words send shocks right to my core,
making my pussy throb even more.
“Yes, please.”
I’m not sure what I expect him to do, but to pull away completely,
leaving me on the brink of an orgasm isn’t it. My mewl of frustration and
disappointment is involuntary and immediate.
“I want you to answer my fucking calls. Regardless of whatever
predicament you’ve found yourself in. That was the vow you made to me
when you agreed to be mine. You ignored my messages today and for that
you’re going to be punished.” The sound of his zipper lowering has my
head turning back toward him. “You think I’d forgotten how our day
started?”
My mouth waters at the sight of his pants lowering and his thick cock
being freed.
“Get on your knees for me, pretty girl,” he commands sinisterly.
“You’re going to choke on my cock and fucking thank me when you’re
done.”
TWELVE
 INDIE

CALLAN WALKS out of Astor’s office, a perplexed look on his face as he

stalks toward me. My stomach drops and my heart rate rapidly picks up
when his hand wraps around my arm. Without a word, he drags me away
from the spot in the hallway I’d been loitering in while he talked with his
dad.
When Callan showed up to the house twenty minutes ago and found me
sitting at the kitchen island, drinking the iced green tea the chef had made
for me. With one look at him, I knew Astor hadn’t bothered to inform him
of my new living situation yet. Why Astor would wait until tonight at this
family dinner to inform him, I don’t know. I want to call him out on it, but
my jaw still hurts from the last punishment I received. I’m not complaining
though, I found I enjoyed the way he commanded my head and ability to
breathe last night on the deck. There was something absolutely exhilarating
about it.
I didn’t get a chance to so much as say hello to Callan before Astor
appeared in the doorway as if out of thin air. I’m tempted to tie a bell on the
man, I swear.
“My office. Now.” Astor had commanded his son, disappearing down
the hall again a second later. Callan stared at me for a moment as if he was
trying to find the answers written across my forehead before following after
his dad.
My plan wasn’t to hide out in the hallway outside Astor’s home office,
but when I heard the staff greet Callan’s mother, June, I darted out of the
kitchen before I was forced to face her alone.
Callan’s legs are much longer than mine and I struggle to keep up with
his fast pace. He finally stops once we reach the sitting room at the front of
the house. Everything in this room is white and pristine. A red wine lover’s
worst nightmare. I feel like I’m staining something just by standing in here.
“Why didn’t you tell me about what your mother did?” Callan questions
in a low whisper.
The scowl on his face reminds me so much of the expression his father
constantly makes. They look similar with their lean muscles and tall frames,
but I get the feeling Callan takes more after his mother. His eyes are deep
blue where Astor’s are gray, and Callan’s brown hair is shades lighter than
Astor’s ever was. I’m quite fond of the silver strands starting to grow on
Astor’s temples now.
“You should have called me, Indie,” he continues, not giving me a
chance to speak. “I could have helped you pack. Dad says she only gave
you an hour to collect as much as you could.”
I was curious to know just how much Astor had told Callan, but the fact
that Callan is only talking about my abrupt eviction, I think it’s safe to
assume that his dad didn’t give him the full background of my shitshow life.
And he definitely didn’t inform him about our little arrangement.
With a yank, I free my arm from Callan’s grip. “I did call you, Callan,” I
snap at him between clenched teeth. “But just like the rest of my recent
messages to you lately, my call yesterday went unanswered.”
I didn’t know what to do after my mother showed up at my door
yesterday. The panic and fear of what was going to happen next had me
reaching out for something familiar. It’s for the best Callan didn’t answer.
An hour after my missed call to him, I realized I didn’t truly want him
there. I just didn’t want to be alone in that moment.
The frustration melts from Callan’s face and guilt appears in its place.
“I’m sorry.” He steps back, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I was
out of town for a couple of days, and I’ve been… busy.”
“Out of town? Where did you—” I start to ask but decide halfway
through that I don’t actually care. What’s going on in Callan’s life no longer
concerns me. Just like what’s happening in mine doesn’t concern him. “I get
you’ve been busy, but I’m just making a point.” I shift my weight to one
foot and cross my arms in front of me. “I’ve been trying to call you for
almost two weeks so we could talk.”
He nods. “I know. It actually works out really well that you’re here
tonight because the same thing I need to talk to my parents about, I was
going to tell you later.” He squeezes my shoulder, and a soft smile lifts his
lips. “But let’s talk just the two of us after dinner.”
“Okay,” I agree, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to my mother.”
His mother and my lover’s ex-wife.
Oh, joy.
Maybe I can get out of this dinner early by stabbing myself with one of
the many salad forks I saw on the elaborately set table earlier.

YOU KNOW when you meet someone new and within two minutes of
your introduction, you know that if they were ever on fire, instead of saving
them, you’d roast a marshmallow in the flames?
That’s how I feel about the ex-wife.
 From the very start of our evening, she’s looked at me as if I were the
gum beneath her shoe. Her judgmental eyes raked over me, picking out all
the things she didn’t like. I could practically hear her thoughts as she
created false little notions about me in her head. If it weren’t for the
excessive amount of Botox and filler in her face, I’m sure I would be able
to see them written in her expressions too. The permanent scowl on her face
is the only one I’ve received. Because of this, I don’t know if Callan has her
smile, but I was right in thinking he got his eye color from her.
“Tell me again what you’re studying, Andie?” She squints at me from
across the large table while dabbing the corners of her mouth with her cloth
napkin.
“Indie,” Astor corrects, not bothering to look at her as he does.
For the most part, Astor hasn’t given her the time of day. While she
seemed thrilled to see him, he barely acknowledged her. The few times his
gaze has flicked in her direction, it’s as if he’s looking through her. Like
he’s blocking her very existence out. It’s a skill I’m thinking took years of
practice to master.
“Oh, my apologies, dear,” the false sincerity all but drips off her over-
filled lips. “Maybe if my son had bothered to discuss you and your
relationship during our phone calls, I’d be better prepared and remember
your name.”
The fact that he’d never bothered to tell his own mother about me after
all this time proves that we were never meant to be more than fleeting
figures in each other’s lives. If I ever really mattered to him, my name
would have come up in conversation before tonight.
Sitting directly next to her, Callan sighs, head shaking. “Mom, come on,
please. I asked for one dinner together. Just one where someone didn’t act
like an ass.”
“Are you calling me an ass, Callan Banes?”
If it walks and bitches like a duck…
 Callan rubs his temple like he’s already getting a headache. Seems
neither one of us won the mother lottery.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying…” he trails off, giving up the fight.
Deciding to take pity on him, I clear my throat, regaining the woman’s
attention. “I want to be a nurse practitioner, so I’m working on my
bachelors in nurse science. When I’m done with that, I’ll need to get my
masters.”
Underneath the table, Astor’s fingertips begin to trace circles on my
bare thigh. I want to look at him but drawing attention to ourselves is the
last thing we need to do at this already hostile table. Even when his
movements start to travel upward, I force myself to remain still.
“That sounds like a lot of schooling,” June comments, feigning interest.
My thighs involuntarily squeeze tighter when Astor’s fingers attempt to
pry them apart. The tightening of his grip on my skin is my silent warning.
Do not deprive me.
“I’m only nineteen,” I explain, my voice sounding surprisingly even
despite my growing flustered state. Ever so slowly, I part my legs for Astor
as I add, “I’m not too worried about it.”
“Are you taking any summer classes like Callan? Those extra credits
really helped expedite his time at university. Which I think is for the best,
personally. It’s time he joined the real world.” June’s hand rubs Callan’s
shoulder, a gesture neither one of them look entirely comfortable with.
From the corner of my eyes, I can see Astor’s lips pull in the slightest
smirk when he finds I’m not wearing underwear again. He told me to wear
the same thing as yesterday for tonight’s dinner. I just assumed he meant the
exact same, so I forwent panties again.
Callan clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “That’s actually what I
wanted to talk to you guys about tonight.”
Pulling on my leg again, I’m forced to subtly shift in my chair so I can
widen to Astor’s desired position. Nothing about Astor’s tone or posture
gives away what’s taking place under the table. He’s as cool and composed
as always. Meanwhile, I think my pounding heart might break a rib.
“You wanted to have this dinner together so we could talk about your
summer courses?” Astor questions.
“No,” Callan corrects. “I actually wanted to let you all know that I’ve
already completed all the credits I need to graduate. I’ve been busy working
and talked to my advisors, and they all agree that I can graduate a semester
early. I’ll officially be done in December.”
June’s proud cheering and congratulatory words muffle out the sharp
gasp that escapes my lips as Astor’s fingers graze my exposed pussy. He’s
teasing—no, preparing me for what he has intended. The fact he requested I
wear this damn dress shows that this is something he planned for. This isn’t
a spur of the moment kind of thing. Real thought went into this.
“That’s excellent news, Callan,” he praises his son with a nod of his
head while languidly tracing up and down my seam. “I know this is a goal
you’ve had since high school. I’m proud of you for accomplishing it.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Callan looks at me next and my distracted brain quickly
remembers I need to say something.
“I’m really happy for you, Callan.” I truly mean it when I say it. My
romantic feelings for him may have diminished, but I still want nothing but
happiness and success for him. “You’re going to do amazing things…” My
words trail off when Astor teases my opening. “I just know it,” I add tightly.
There’s no way for me to know if the smile I give him looks as forced
as it feels.
Astor pushes a finger inside me, and my chin falls to my chest in an
attempt to conceal the shocked parting of my lips.
This isn’t happening. He’s not actually doing this while his son and ex
sit across the table. The logical side of my brain tries to reason, but the
increasing rhythm of his finger sliding in and out of me proves otherwise.
With a deep breath, I try to settle myself before lifting my head again.
 “What are your plans for after you graduate?” June asks over her glass
of expensive red wine. She’d requested Callan fetch one of the bottles from
Astor’s cellar before we sat down at the table like she still had a right to
Astor’s belongings.
Callan looks at me like he’s about to deliver life altering news. It’s not
his intense expression that has my heartrate picking up. It’s his father’s
palm grinding against my sensitive clit.
“I’ve spent the better part of the past three months getting everything in
order, but as soon as I graduate in December, I’ll be moving to New York.”
Finally, after months of secrets and Callan’s illusive behavior, the truth is
finally out. “I flew out there this week and met with uncle Emeric. He’s
offered to let me work for him.” He looks at his dad when he delivers the
last part. There’s a glimmer of fear in his eyes, like he’s afraid his dad won’t
approve of this career choice.
I’ve never heard Callan speak of Emeric before, so I have no idea what
this job could entail, but by the way June’s concrete face falls, I don’t think
it’s good.
“Emeric as in your brother?” She says his name quietly as if she could
accidentally summon the man here if spoken too loudly. “That doesn’t seem
wise. Astor, you’d allow this?”
The heal of Astor’s palm grinds harder against me and at the same time
he opens his mouth to speak, he slips another finger inside of me. It takes
everything I have in me to not jolt at the intrusion. “Who am I to tell him
no? Callan is a grown man. He must set his own path and he must learn to
stand by the decisions he makes.”
Starting at the top of my head, sparks of pleasure begin to shoot through
my body. My skin is too warm and the muscles in my core are starting to
quiver. With shaky fingers, I lay my hand over Astor’s, silently begging him
to stop so I don’t come right here at this table.
 My plea goes unanswered and has the opposite effect I’d hoped for. His
tempo and pressure increase, the only thing holding back my orgasm is my
sheer will.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I think this could be a really good opportunity for me and there’s so
much I can learn from Bran—”
Knotting my hands in the fabric of my dress, I fly up from the table and
away from Astor’s relentless hand. Completely flustered, I breathlessly
apologize to Callan for so rudely cutting him off. “I’m sorry, I—I will just
be a moment.”
With the briefest glance at Astor’s smug face, I scurry out of the room
before anyone has a chance to say anything else.
THIRTEEN
 ASTOR

“I’M GOING to go select another bottle of wine from the cellar,” I explain,
removing my napkin from my lap and pushing away from the table.
Indie, along with her greedy cunt, are hiding somewhere from me. I
want to be angry at her for leaving before I could make her come, but the
fact I get to now go hunt her down like she’s my prey excites me.
June taps her nearly empty glass. “Be a gem and grab another bottle of
cabernet while you’re down there, Astor.”
The only reason I still tolerate June’s presence is for Callan. No matter
how strong my ill will is toward her, she will always be Callan’s mother.
And because of that, she will forever be a permanent burden in my life.
That was her grand plan twenty-three years ago when she fell pregnant with
our son. It was the oldest play in the books, and I still somehow fell victim
to it.
I will never regret my son’s existence, but I will regret how it came
about for the remainder of my days.
Though, my biggest regret will always be allowing my father to
persuade me into marrying the conniving woman. The Banes have an image
to uphold and a baby out of wedlock was not something he would stand for.
It wasn’t until he was forcibly removed from power and cold and dead, did
I divorce June. Our marriage came to an end just after three years, and not
once during those three years did my dislike for her wane. Over two
decades later, I enjoy her company even less.
I could acknowledge the fact she’d spoken to me, but I find it much
more satisfactory to just ignore her completely. The fact my disregard for
her presence irks her to no end only makes it that much sweeter.
Indie was desperate to get away from me. The sanctuary of her new
bedroom would have been too far for her frazzled brain to consider running
to. She would be looking for a much closer and accessible hideaway.
The soles of my dress shoes click against the hardwood floors as I stalk
through the grand entryway and down the hallway that my office resides in.
While I highly doubt she would be foolish enough to enter my office
without permission, I still peek through the open door to be sure. I’m fairly
good at anticipating her moves, but she’s had a few moments where she’s
surprised me. Like yesterday on the deck where she enthusiastically choked
on my cock. My punishment ended up bringing her more pleasure than I
had intended.
Walking past the closed door of one of the bathrooms, I come to a stop
when I hear water running. My smirk is instant and anticipation shoots
through me like a bullet.
Found you, pretty girl.
My knuckles rap against the door.
The faucet turns off and there’s a short pause before the voice comes
through the wood door. “Just a minute.”
We don’t have a minute. If Callan or June decided to leave the formal
dining room, questions I don’t feel like answering would be asked.
I don’t say anything, instead I knock once more.
She sighs in frustration before her footsteps move across the room. The
sound of the lock turning has my blood rushing to my dick. Finally. The
door isn’t open more than an inch before I’m shoving my way into the
bathroom.
 Indie’s eyes widen and lips part, her shriek is just barely silenced in
time when my hand clamps down across her mouth. I shut the door again
and lock us inside.
“Nowhere to run this time, Indie,” I growl close to her face as I push her
until her back hits the marble vanity. “You’re trapped in here with me and
you’re going to stay here until I’ve had my fucking fill.”
She tries to speak behind my hand.
“Shh,” I coo, brushing the strands of her hair off her face. “We don’t
want anyone overhearing us, now do we? You cleverly chose to not wear
panties, so I don’t have anything to gag you with this time. If you’re too
loud, I’m going to be very disappointed in you.”
Her breath comes faster, her breasts heaving out the top of her white
sundress. She’s nervous about being locked in here with me, but her dilating
pupils and the way she arches into me gives away her readiness.
My free hand dips between her thighs. “I’m going to finish what I
started,” I tell her. “But this time, you’re going to come on my cock.”
Indie’s eyes close involuntarily when I slip a finger back into her slick
heat. She’s wetter than she was when she left the table. My cock presses
against the zipper of my slacks, eager to sink into her warmth.
“My pretty girl is ready for me, isn’t she?”
She whimpers against my hand and her hips roll, grinding against my
palm. Her movements are frantic—desperate even. My teasing from earlier
has her eager for me.
Pulling my soaked finger from her core causes disappointment to flash
across her face. It disperses when I use both hands to lift her onto the
bathroom countertop.
Standing between her spread thighs, I order her, “Take my cock out.”
Pushing my black cashmere sweater up, Indie’s deft fingers tackle the
button and zipper of my charcoal slacks. The entire time, I watch how she
bites her bottom lip. I’ve never been fond of the act of kissing. Somehow
the act felt more intimate than fucking, but there’s a pull in my chest urging
me to kiss Indie now. My teeth grind and I suppress the unwanted desire.
She shoves my pants down on my hips, allowing my cock to spring free.
Her lips twitch as she looks up at me. “Seems I’m not the only one going
commando tonight, Mr. Banes.”
“I told you I like easy access.” I smirk. “Spit on me. Get my cock ready
for your pussy.”
Her thin fingers wrap around my thick shaft, and I watch, completely
enthralled, as the saliva drips from her lips onto the tip of my dick. My hips
jerk forward at her first languid stroke. Tip to base, she spreads the wetness
over me.
I drop my forehead against hers. This close, it’s like we’re sharing
oxygen. My other hand wraps around her wrist, halting her movements.
“Wrap your legs around my waist.”
Pulling her ass to the very edge of the counter, she does what I ask. The
heels of her feet dig into my lower back, and she pulls me in closer to her
center. Her head falls back against the mirror behind her as I glide my dick
through her soaked lips. The head grazes over her sensitive clit, making her
whole body jolt.
Her eyes plead with me when I position myself at her entrance.
“Please.” It’s just barely an audible whisper, but still hearing that
singular word come from her lips is one of my favorite sounds.
I’m just about to grant her wish when the knock comes at the door.
“Indie?”
At the sound of Callan’s voice, Indie flies forward and tries to jump
from the vanity. My hands lock around her thighs in a punishing grasp,
forcing her to stay in place. Pure fear shines in her amber orbs.
My only answer is a slow shake of my head, a devious grin growing on
my lips. I couldn’t have planned this better if I tried. Dropping my head
close to hers, I speak lowly into her ear. “Answer him, Indie.”
 Body still rigid, I push her back until she rests against the mirror once
more. Her eyes flick between where my cock slides through her pussy again
and the door her boyfriend stands behind.
When she doesn’t answer, my fingers flex on her skin in warning.
Finally, she finds her words. “I—I’m here.” Her response comes out
cracked, as if her throat is clogged with emotion.
I know the truth, but Callan doesn’t. “Are you okay? You sound upset,”
he asks, sounding worried. It’s a little too late for him to be concerning
himself with Indie’s emotions.
Indie looks at me for help and I simply mouth a single word.
Lie.
“Yes, I’m okay.” Her breath shudders when I position myself at her
opening again. The subtle shake of her head is her silent plea, and a wicked
smile is my reply. “I just needed a minute to—” She loses the ability to
breathe and speak as the head of my cock pushes into her. “—to collect
myself,” she manages to finish.
Her back arches as I push inch by inch into her and her fingernails dig
into the top of my hands that still hold her thighs open.
“Are you sure?” Callan presses.
Again, I whisper in her ear, but this time I slice all the way into her as I
speak. “Lie better.”
She licks her bottom lip before responding. “There’s just so many things
going on right now, Callan. Between my mom and you, I just need a second
to process.”
I’m proud of her ability to keep her voice even. There’s only the
slightest quiver in her speech, but I think it’s only noticeable to me because
I’m causing it. My thrusts are slow and measured to keep the sound at a
minimum, but they’re deep, brushing against her womb.
The open mouth kisses I trail across her jaw are her reward for her job
well done, but Callan is relentless. “I’m sorry I told you tonight instead of
earlier. I wanted to make sure everything was set in stone before I told you.
Open the door and we can talk about this.”
“No!” Indie instantly snaps, head whipping in the direction of the
locked door. “I mean…I’ll be out soon. Please just give me a minute and
I’ll find you so we can finally talk about things.”
There’s a long pause before Callan answers, “Okay. I’ll be on the deck
waiting for you.”
Indie doesn’t fully relax until there’s the audible sound of footfalls
leaving. Once they become distant, her body sags in relief. “Holy fuck,” she
breathes.
“Such a good girl,” I growl in approval, my hips driving into her faster.
The restraint I’ve been relying on all night vanishing each time her core
muscles clench around me. “My good girl.”
“Yes,” she agrees with a long moan. “Yours.”
Indie can deny that she didn’t enjoy our secret games tonight, but the
way her body has been responding to me would give away her falsehoods.
She likes the threat of being caught, it exhilarates her and turns her on just
as it does me. The blood in my veins is basically made of fire at his point.
Indie’s breath begins to come in short pants. I would have normally told
her to keep her hands on the marble counter, but I find I’m enjoying how
they restlessly travel over my arms and chest. When I press my thumb to
her clit, her nails prick the back of my neck, making a low groan form in
my throat.
Tingles begin to form at the base of my spine and my balls tighten. My
teeth sink in my lip and my rhythm becomes erratic as I chase my release.
It’s Indie that comes apart first. My hand slaps across her mouth,
muffling her cries of ecstasy just before white-hot pleasure blazes through
me like fireworks going off.
Thrusting deep, I spill inside of her with a harsh curse.
 I stay buried in her as we both fight to regain our breaths. My head
drops to Indie’s shoulder and her skin feels sticky against mine.
I get lost in the soft circles she trails through the cropped strands on my
scalp. Prickles dance across my skin. It’s a soothing gesture that feels
borderline too intimate for our kind of relationship. I allow it for a minute
before standing straight.
The flush across Indie’s cheeks is a stunning red and the sheen of sweat
across her forehead was well earned. Her lips part in a silent gasp as my
still semi-hard dick slips out of her sensitive center.
My eyes fixate on the way my cum trickles out of her, finding pleasure
that I’ve found another way to mark her as mine.
Indie’s eyes widen as my thumb collects what’s fallen out and pushes it
back inside of her.
“What are you doing?”
“While you break up with my son, I want my cum dripping out of you.”
FOURTEEN
 INDIE

THE CHILLY NIGHT air does little to cool my heated skin as I step out
onto the deck. Just like he said he would, Callan is leaning against the
railing waiting for me. He doesn’t immediately turn to me when the door
closes behind me. His eyes are scanning the dark lake below us, but I know
he hears me approach by the way he stands up straighter.
The anxious feeling building in my chest feels like a band that is slowly
constricting my lungs. I know I need to say something to him, but I’m
afraid of what might come out of my mouth. My mind is still frazzled from
my encounter with Astor and I’m not thinking clearly. The fact that Astor
was right, and I can, indeed, feel him seeping out of me isn’t helping
matters either.
What’s funny though, is that I’m not dreading having this conversation
with Callan. It’s one that’s been months in the making and it’s long past due
that we had it. What scares me is that with one look at my flushed cheeks,
Callan will know my secret. I don’t know if or when Callan will learn what
is happening here, but I don’t think telling him tonight is a good idea.
Especially not when his mother is still here, filling the house up with
judgmental stares and her too-strong floral perfume.
No, all we need to do tonight is call time of death on our nonexistent
relationship so we can both freely move on.
 “Are you going to miss it?” I ask once I find my ability to string words
together. “You’ve lived in Washington your whole life. It can’t be easy to
walk away.”
There’s a brief pause followed by a sigh before Callan turns to me. “It’s
something I should have done a long time ago, but I put it on the
backburner and tried to continue with my life here. I know now going to
New York is the right thing for me. Everything I want is there and I’ve just
been avoiding it.”
I can’t help but think there’s more meaning behind his words than he’s
letting on. What else is in New York other than his uncle and this new job?
Stepping next to him, I mirror his posture and lean against the railing. “I
just want you to be happy, Callan. Whether that’s here or in New York.” My
hand rests over his. “And I know for a fact I’m not the person that makes
you happy.”
His lips part like he’s going to argue with me, but I’m quick to cut him
off.
“No, it’s okay,” I promise. “It’s okay because the roles we were meant
to play in each other’s lives, we’ve played them to their fullest extent. This
is where we end. There’s nothing else for us to do and there’s nothing left
for us to give. If we had more to give, we wouldn’t be having this
conversation. The one thing you will always have, whether you’re here or
across the country, is my friendship. That will never change or waver.”
He stares at me, head softly shaking. “I haven’t been fair to you, Indie. I
entered this relationship knowing that I’d never be able to give you more,
that this wasn’t for the long haul. It wasn’t fair to let you think even for a
minute that we’d be more than we were.”
It’s weird. This admission should hurt, right? My heart should break at
least a little knowing he never wanted more, but it doesn’t. I think it’s
because, deep down, I always knew that we were never more than brief
shiny sparks in each other’s lives. Our light dimmed fast, but that’s how it
was fated to be.
“We both knew it wasn’t going to work. There was always an expiration
date on this.” I was blinded by the thrill of him at first and didn’t want to
see what was inevitably lying in front of us. But it became painfully
obvious to me this summer when we drifted apart and neither one of us
seemed to care. We’ve been living our own separate lives for months.
“The truth is, I wanted this to work,” he admits, shocking me. “I realize
now that my reasons were purely selfish. Which is again why I was never
fair to you, and I’m genuinely so sorry.”
There’s not a hint of a lie when I say, “I believe you, and please don’t
apologize to me. It’s truly not needed.” I’m the one massively in the wrong
here. I mean, for fuck’s sake, his father’s cum is running down my inner
thigh as we’re having this nice little heart to heart.
Like he’s suddenly nervous, he pulls his hand out from under mine so
he can use it to anxiously rub the back of his neck. “I feel like …” he trails
off, still unsure of himself. “I feel like I owe you more, I don’t know,
honesty. There’s more that I need to tell you.”
My head shakes at this and my own guilt creeps up my throat. “You
really don’t owe me anything, Callan. We’re good.” Please don’t tell me
more because then I’m going to feel like I need to do the same.
“No, I need to tell you. I promised her I would.”
“Her?”
His handsome face pinches. “Yeah. Her.”
Just like that, it makes sense. All the unspoken words from tonight
appear and fall into place. The missing pieces for his need to be in New
York fill in all the blanks and I suddenly feel like I’m seeing the full picture.
And I finally feel like I’m seeing and understanding Callan Banes.
“What’s her name?” My smile is genuine when I ask. I want to know
about the girl that has such a strong hold on his heart that he’s picking up
everything and moving across the country.
He’s thrown for a second by my lack of anger; I can tell by the way a
vast array of emotions reflect in his eyes in a short time frame. Callan
hesitates like he’s worried my curiosity is masking an ulterior motive. It’s
like he thinks I’m playing it cool to only go off on him once I have all the
information.
“I meant what I said, Callan. I want you to be happy and if she’s the one
who makes you happy, how can I be angry at you for that?” I try to assure
him.
He exhales a long breath. “I couldn’t love you the way you deserved to
be loved because I’ve been in love with Ophelia since I was fifteen years
old. There’s a lot of history between us and a lot of mistakes were made on
my part, but I won’t get into that now. It just comes down to this; I tried to
move on and for a split second I let myself believe I could do that with you.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t and again, I’m sorry for that.”
“Stop apologizing to me.” It’s not a request, it’s a demand. How can I
accept an apology from him when I can’t tell him the truth about my own
wrongdoings? “Did you know that she was in New York when you decided
to work with your uncle?”
“I knew she was attending NYU, but I hadn’t planned to seek her out
yet, but then she was just there. I was out to dinner with Emeric and a
colleague, and she just appeared. Ophelia was as shocked as I was. Like I
said, there’s a lot of history there, but we’ve spent some time together
during my visits out there.” His blue eyes flick to mine. “I slept with her,
Indie.”
“I figured you had.” I offer him a soft smile with a shrug. “This whole
thing sounds like fate to me. I don’t know why we’d even try to fight
against that. Watching my dad die when he hadn’t even lived half a life put
things into perspective for me. Fight for the things you want and let go of
the things that are no longer serving you.” I reach out and grip his forearm.
“You can let go, Callan, knowing there isn’t any animosity between us, and
I’ll do the same.”
He still looks unsure. “Really? You’re not mad at me for cheating?”
I can’t help but laugh at this. “No, I’m not mad at you. Is it really
considered cheating when we haven’t touched each other in months, and we
don’t talk anymore? We parted ways long ago, we just haven’t verbally
acknowledged it.”
“I guess that’s true.” There’s a long pause before he asks a question that
makes my heart lurch in my throat. “Have you slept with anyone else?”
My first instinct is to lie, but instead I ask, “Would you be mad if I
had?”
His response is immediate. “Not even a little bit. I want the same for
you, Indie. I want you to move on and be happy.”
My guilt lessens but doesn’t completely fade. No, that won’t go
anywhere until the full truth is on the table. “Are you, Callan? Are you
happy?”
A look crosses his face that I can’t quite decipher. I think it might be
doubt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear such an emotion. He’s always
seemed so sure of himself. For some reason, the fact that Ophelia can make
him feel unsteady makes me happy. Callan needs someone like that—
someone who will keep him on his toes and challenge him.
“There’s still a lot that I need to fix between us, and I have a feeling it’ll
be an uphill battle for me, but I also know that it’ll all be worth it if it works
out.”
Stepping forward, I wrap my arm around his middle in a light hug. “Go
to New York and fight for your happiness. I’ll be here cheering you on the
whole time.”
Callan hugs me back. “I didn’t deserve you, but you’re going to find
someone who does, and they’ll see just how amazing you are. You truly are
one of a kind, Indie, and I’m thankful for the time we had.”
 I don’t know what it says about me—and my money’s on not good
things—but I find myself silently thanking him for putting Astor in my life.
Without Callan, I would have no idea what it’s like to have Astor ignite
pieces of me I didn’t know existed and then have him put out the flames
with his tongue.
FIFTEEN
 ASTOR

THERE’S AN ODD, almost primitive, feeling growing in my chest

knowing the strings that tethered her to another man are currently being
severed. After tonight, she truly will be completely and solely mine. No one
but me will have a claim to her. It makes the selfish and possessive side of
me purr with satisfaction.
I’ve shared women in the past, but not Indie. Never Indie.
She’s all mine.
Footsteps moving toward the den have my eyes lifting from the amber
liquid in my glass. Callan leans against the doorframe, legs crossed casually
at his ankles. He looks at me like he’s not sure what he wants to say, so I
speak first.
“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?” I take a drink of the scotch and savor
the burn.
He has to know that I’ve kept tabs on Ophelia’s whereabouts through
the years. At his first mention of New York tonight, I knew she was his real
motive for moving there.
His head nods without hesitation. “Yes.”
There’re very few people that know the history between Callan and the
young girl that used to live next door, but I know all the details. I’m the one
who had to pay off the judge and police department when things went south
for them. The best thing that ever happened was when Ophelia’s family
moved away. And yet, after all these years, my son’s affection for her never
wavered.
“I suppose I should be commending you for your steadfast dedication to
her. I can’t help but be concerned though.” My eyes narrow with a pointed
stare. “Think carefully about your next steps, Callan. Like I told your
mother, you are a man now and can make your own decisions. That also
means that you need to be capable of cleaning up your own messes. I won’t
do it again. That goes for your doings with Ophelia and Emeric.”
There’s a sense of pride in my chest when he stands up taller and his
face hardens. The determination and confidence he’s showing is something
he’ll need if he’s going to work for my brother—for the family business.
“I know what I’m doing and I’m ready.”
“You say that now, but you truly have no idea what you’re getting into.
I’ve shielded you and kept you in the dark on a lot of the various operations
that my family is involved in. Emeric won’t shield you. He will throw you
into the deep end with nothing more than a rusty pocketknife, and he’ll
laugh while he does it.”
People like to say that my youngest brother and I couldn’t be more
different. What they don’t know is that in our souls, we’re very much the
same. The horrible things that he’s capable of doing? I’m the one who
taught him how to execute them. There just came a point in my life that I
didn’t like the man I was becoming. I backed away from that world and
became a scholar while Emeric embraced the darkness like an old lover.
My father is probably rolling in his grave knowing that I stepped away
from the business to pursue a career in academics and left the empire in
Emeric’s hands. He is, after all, the better and only choice since my other
brother joined the Navy and never looked back. I’m not even sure he’s
alive, if I’m being honest. I haven’t seen him since he enlisted at the age of
eighteen.
 Callan doesn’t back down. “I said I was ready. This is what I want to do,
and I’m thankful I get to learn from Emeric.”
I lift my glass in a salute-like fashion. “Then I wish you nothing but
luck, kid.”
“Thanks, but I really don’t think I’ll need it.” And just like that, the
cocky college boy I know so well returns. If he pulls this smug look with
my brother, Emeric will beat it out of him.
My son is in for a rude awakening.
“I think you will. Especially if you’re planning on reconnecting with
Ophelia.”
His lips pull, somehow making him appear more arrogant. “I don’t think
I’m the one who needs luck right now, Dad.”
My head cocks ever so slightly. “What does that mean exactly?”
“It means you don’t give me enough credit.”
“I’m still not following you.”
“One day soon, you will.” His shoulder shrugs, and he moves away
from the doorframe. “I need to go find Mom so I can get her out of here
before she stirs up too much trouble. I think two hours once a year is
enough family time, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t mind if the next time we all got together was at a funeral.
Hers or mine, I don’t care. I’m not overly particular at this point.”
Believing I’m joking, Callan’s laugh follows him as he walks down the
hallway.

SHE’S JUST STEPPING out of the shower and wrapping the white towel
around herself when I find her. Freezing briefly in place like she’s not sure
about either of our next moves, she looks at me expectantly, like I somehow
need to explain my presence in her room. I will do no such thing. This is
my house and I’ll go where I want, when I want.
Tucking the towel tighter, Indie closes the glass shower doors behind
her and moves to the marble vanity. “Did Callan leave?” she asks, looking
at me through the reflection in the mirror.
“He did.” I step up behind her and skim my hands across her narrow
shoulders and down her arms. My fingertips trail through the water droplets
still covering her soft skin.
“We talked, ended things.” She pauses, shaking her head with a soft
chuckle. “It seems ridiculous to say that. We were already over. Our
conversation—while I’m glad we had it—was just a formality.”
“A needed formality.” I didn’t realize how much I craved her detaching
herself from another man—even if that man is my son—until I knew she
was completely free to be called mine.
Her head nods in agreement. “Did you know about his plans to move to
New York before tonight?”
For a split second, my untamed jealousy shoots to the surface, thinking
she’s only asking because she still wants to be with him, but then she
continues on, soothing the unwanted emotion.
“Sounds like it’ll be good for him. I hope he can work things out with
Ophelia. I’m a sucker for second chances and I hope they get theirs.”
“I had my suspicions this was his plan. He’s always been very
inquisitive about the Bane family business and history, and he’s always
been fond of Emeric.” Their connection started when Callan was only a
toddler, and even when I moved us here to Seattle, Emeric kept in touch
with my son.
Indie reaches for a bottle of moisturizer and dots the product across her
face before messaging it into her blemish-free skin. “What exactly does
your family do?”
 “Aren’t you an inquisitive one tonight?” My tone is sharper than I
intend, and it has her eyes turning downcast.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer. I was just curious.”
For a reason I can’t seem to put my finger on, I find myself sighing and
answering her question. Perhaps it’s to wash away the look of remorse on
her pretty face. “The Banes have had their hands in numerous pots for many
decades. Some of us work in importing and exporting, and others get jobs in
politics. We like to equally distribute our presence across many different
fields. That way we retain some semblance of control in multiple industries.
Keeps us informed and ahead of our competitors.”
Her brows furrow. “That sounds … intense. What will Callan be
doing?”
“I think Emeric will have him putting his forensic accounting degree to
use and dealing with the money. He’ll probably start Callan off with the
various nightclubs’ finances and then move him up the chain from there.”
My hands continue to trace lines across her bare skin. I like the way
goosebumps form in my wake.
“Your brother is going to have Callan looking for fraud and money
laundering in his own businesses?”
I can’t help but laugh at this. She’s so innocent at times. Other times—
times when I’m between her spread thighs and my cock is buried in her—
she’s delectably sinful.
“No, pretty girl, he’ll be looking for ways to get away with fraud and
laundering.”
And just like that, it all clicks. Her pink lips form a silent ‘oh’ and her
head nods in understanding. “Gotcha.” I expect her to say more, but
instead, she shocks me when her amber eyes flick to mine with a smirk.
“Now I know why you’re the way you are. You could never just be a
scholar. Your devious ways were weaved into your very DNA.”
 “I may have chosen a different career path than the rest of my family,
but that doesn’t change who I am.”
Mischief shining in her eyes, she bites her bottom lip. “Good.”
She continues to surprise me. Keeping my eyes locked with hers in the
mirror, I press my lips to her shoulder. She smells good. Whatever shampoo
or body soap she uses is sweet, reminding me of honey. My nose runs along
her neck, and I breathe it in. “Did you wash away all the evidence of what I
did to your body earlier?”
By the way her cheeks flush, Indie knows exactly what I’m talking
about. “We haven’t talked about it, but I’m on birth control. Just in case you
were worried about … you know … knocking me up.”
My fingers wrap around the wet strands of her hair, and I pull her head
back, exposing her neck to me. “I know,” I admit against her soft skin. “I
saw the pill packet in your purse this summer.”
“You went through my purse?” She sounds more amused than mad.
“I needed to know all I could about you so I would be ready for when I
could finally call you mine.”
SIXTEEN
 INDIE

IT WAS scary being called into the principal’s office in grade school and
high school, but it’s equal parts balls-out terrifying and exhilarating being
called into the university president’s office.
I awoke with a one sentence text on my phone. Come to my office thirty
minutes before your first class. With all text messages, you must infer tone,
but with his, I don’t have to guess.
It’s a direct—non-negotiable—order. One I can’t refuse, even if I
wanted to, and despite the fear, I don’t want to. I want to see what he has
planned for me. I want to know what new heights he plans on taking my
body. I’ve been at his house for seven days now, and with each passing day
I’ve already experienced so much with him.
Just like the last time I visited this office, I keep my head down and take
the elevator up to the top floor, but unlike last time, the floor isn’t still or
quiet. There’s a constant low hum of business taking place. Phones are
ringing and people are going on with their workday. I always knew I didn’t
want to be locked up in an office space like this or in a cubicle, working a
nine to five. The very idea of it sounded miserable. I enjoy teaching the
young kids lessons at the barn, but I know I don’t want to make a full-time
career out of it. It needs to continue to be a passion, not a chore. I figured
out I wanted to work at a hospital after my dad got sick. The nurse
practitioner that was on my dad’s team was the one who brought him the
most joy and comfort. I wanted to be like her—I do want to be like her. And
because of Astor, I still have a chance.
The redhead, Cheska, stands from her desk when she sees me approach.
Her eyes dart around like she’s looking for a plausible reason I’d be back
here. “You’re not on his schedule.”
I shrug my shoulders apathetically. “He told me to come.” And I always
come when he demands it of me—in and out of bed.
Like a good guard dog, she’s not about to back down. “He’s currently
on a call. I’ll let him finish it up and then alert him that you are here.”
“How much longer is the call?” I have to be in class in just over thirty
minutes. While I don’t want to ignore his order to be here, I also can’t
afford to miss this class. It’s preparing us for a big test next week, and now
that I have a second chance to get my degree, I’m not about to let my grades
slip because Astor Banes is distracting me.
Cheska glances at the tablet in her hand. “It says he’ll be done around
noon.”
“That’s over an hour from now.”
It’s her turn for her shoulders to lift. “Sorry. I’m not sure there’s
anything else I can do for you. I suppose you can leave him a note and I can
pass it along when he’s finished.”
My phone is already in my hand, and I turn my attention to it while I
respond to her, “I actually don’t need you to do anything for me.”
Indie: I’m here.
It takes less than ten seconds for his response to appear on my screen.
Astor: I’ll come retrieve you.
Cheska’s lips part in shock when Astor appears in the small reception
area a moment later. “Mr. Banes, I thought you were on a call. I would have
brought her to you had I known otherwise.”
 His gray eyes flick to her briefly. “Next time she’s here, deliver her
promptly to my office regardless of what my schedule says.”
Looking and sounding confused, she stammers a quick, “Yes, sir.”
Astor holds his arm out, silently gesturing for me to walk ahead of him
to his large office. Remembering the way, I lead us, and while I do, I can
feel my skin growing warm as his intense gaze rakes me from behind.
Once inside and with the doors closed behind us, I shuffle nervously to
the leather chair I sat in last time. I’m about to sit down when his sharp
command stops me in my tracks.
“No.” Astor moves to his side of the desk and takes a seat in the leather
desk chair. “You won’t be sitting this time.”
My hands flex around the strap of my shoulder bag while my core
muscles instinctually clench.
“Oh?” I question, placing my bag and oversized plaid blazer on the
chair in front of me. “And what will I be doing?”
The devious shine in his eyes is enough to make my knees weak.
“You’ll be getting your virgin ass ready to take my fat cock.”
The mixture of fear and excitement that has been lingering in my veins
amplifies tenfold. Before now, I’ve never had strong feelings one way or
another regarding anal. I’ve never been opposed to it, but I definitely didn’t
seek it out. I assumed I’d figure out my feelings toward it when the moment
happened. And now that the moment is here, I can’t help but be terrified of
the unknown.
At my silent, taken aback expression, Astor continues to seal my fate. “I
told you the last time you were in this office that I was going to be the first
to claim you there. Did you think I was lying?”
“No,” I choke out. “I’m just …”
His head cocks. “Just what, Indie?”
My teeth dig painfully into my bottom lip as the blood rushes to my
face and an embarrassed blush blooms. “I’m just scared it’s going to hurt.”
 The intensity in his gaze dims a notch, and an almost, I don’t know,
reassuring look appears. “While I have every intention of fucking your ass,
I also intend on making you enjoy it as much as I do.” He pulls a drawer
open on his desk and retrieves a black box. Wordlessly, he pushes it toward
me and nods his head at it, signaling for me to open it.
With slightly shaky fingers, I lift the lid and examine the contents.
Looking up from the silver butt plug and bottle of lube, I ask, “You’re
going to put this inside me?”
He nods his head once. “Yes, and next week we’re going to use a larger
one. We’re going to stretch your tight ass until you can take my cock
comfortably.” He pushes back in his chair, creating space between him and
his desk. “Now, get over here so we can begin. We don’t want you being
late for class now, do we?”
On my next inhale, I hold it, and as I exhale it slowly through parted
lips, I gather up all the courage I can. Everything else he’s done to my body,
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. This should be no different, right? Before I can
chicken out, I walk to Astor. Not knowing where he wants me exactly, I
stand awkwardly in front of him.
“Other way.” His large hands grip my hips and turn me to face his desk.
“Just like that first night I fucked you, I want you bent over in front of me.”
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows and forearms on the desk. This
position causes my short black pleated skirt to rise up, which I suspect was
his intended goal.
Unable to stop it, I jolt when his fingers skim across my thighs as he
pushes the fabric further up so he can see all of me. My thin black thong is
doing little to conceal anything at this point.
“I really do appreciate your preference for skirts and dresses.”
“Well, I do aim to please, Mr. Banes.” My sarcastic retort is brought on
by nerves, but the sharp slap across my right ass cheek is quick to thwart
any further remarks.
 “Oh, and how you please me so.” I can’t see him but by the way I can
feel his breath across my skin, I suspect he’s close. My theory is proven
correct as his teeth scrape across my skin. It’s not hard enough to leave a
mark.
My heart speeds up when his fingers hook around the thin fabric of my
thong, and he drags it down my legs. Instead of removing them completely,
he allows them to remain around my ankles. Astor’s hand slips between my
thighs, forcing me to widen my stance another inch or so.
At the first brush of his finger across my clit, my whole body jolts and
my hands tighten into fists. Astor’s touch has a way of making me go from
zero to painfully horny in a matter of seconds. With one look or one darkly
spoken word, he has me aching for him.
Now is no different.
He takes his time creating slow, methodical circles with his finger and
when my body has responded enough to his liking, his finger pushes inside
my slick heat with ease. He works it in and out, thoroughly coating himself
in my wetness before his finger travels upward to my virgin hole. Astor’s
fingertip traces over it and at the first hint of him applying light pressure, I
find every one of my muscles tightening up.
Astor makes a chastising tsking noise. “That won’t do now, will it?
You’re going to let me in, and I don’t care how long it takes. You have to
relax for me.”
Easier said than done, right?
On a long exhale, I try to force my muscles to give up the fight, but it’s
not happening as effectively as I’d like. My body still feels tense—on edge
—about what’s to come.
“Let me help you.”
His other hand that had been resting on my hip wraps around and picks
up where his other left off. The second his fingers begin to strum against
my clit, it’s like a switch being flipped. My muscles melt into the desk and
into him. His pace is steady and unrelenting—a clear mission in mind.
Within a minute, I can feel the electric buzz forming under my skin as my
orgasm builds.
While I focus on the building sensation, Astor uses this opportunity to
push his fingertip into my ass. The small intrusion is foreign and feels like
it’s borderline too much for me to handle. I can’t imagine what it’ll feel like
to have his whole cock inside me. How could he possibly fit there when his
finger feels like it barely does?
“Oh god,” I groan as he pumps the digit in and out ever so slightly.
His movements are small, but everything feels amplified there. Nerve
endings that have never been ignited are awakened. Surprisingly, as my
body adjusts to the new sensation, I find I don’t hate it. No, quite the
opposite.
I like it.
“Does this feel good?” I swear, Astor Bane’s gruff voice is my own
aphrodisiac. It heightens the euphoric bliss his hands and body create.
“You’re doing so good, pretty girl.”
The rush of pleasure that I’ve barely been holding at bay crashes into
me. In order to stop myself from yelling out and alerting everyone to what
we’re doing in here, my teeth bite down into my bare forearm. I’m blind to
whatever pain I might be causing as I ride the tidal wave of my orgasm.
Neither one of Astor’s hands let up as I do, but when I come back down a
moment later, his hands are gone.
Panting heavily, I remove my teeth from my arm and rest my forehead
against the cool surface of his desk. My relaxed state is interrupted when
something cool dribbles down the crack of my ass.
At my startled jump, Astor runs a hand down my back. “It’s just some
lube. You’re doing so well already, but this will make it easier for you to
accept the plug.” His reassuring words are accompanied by his finger once
more pushing into me, methodically coating the virgin hole with lubricant.
“My good girl can take anything I give her. Soon you’re going to take my
cock here and you’re going to wonder why you were ever afraid.”
I hear him reach into the same box he’d retrieved the lube from, and
seconds later, cool metal slips through my pussy lips. He covers it in my
wetness before bringing it upward. My heart is pounding in my chest,
making the blood hum in my ears as my nerves return with new force.
Astor presses the plug against my asshole, and when he’s met with
resistance, he takes me by utter surprise when I feel him press hot kisses to
the apex of each of my ass cheeks. “You can take it, Indie.”
With his encouragement, my body relaxes once more. His single finger
felt large, but the plug feels gigantic. The tight muscle fights the intrusion
for only a second before it slips fully inside.
“Oh fuck,” I moan against the arm that now bears bite marks. “So full.”
“You think you’re full now? Just wait till my cock is buried in you.”
Astor presses against the base of the plug, making me squirm. “Hell, I
might fuck your pussy with that pink vibrator of yours just so you can fully
understand the meaning of being full.”
I’m about to ask him how he knows what color my vibrator is and if
he’d gone through my things at the house when he pulls my thong back up
into place and returns my skirt to its proper placement.
Utterly confused as to what is happening, I turn around with wide eyes
and shaky muscles to face him. With each movement, I can feel the foreign
object inside of me.
“What are you doing?” I question, falling over my words only a little
bit.
Astor looks at his silver Rolex and then back at me. “I have a meeting in
ten minutes, and you need to be on your way so you don’t miss your class.”
My eyes widen. “You mean … you’re not taking it out?”
He sits back in his rolling chair, arms relaxed casually over the armrests.
“No, and neither will you. You’re going to go to your classes and go about
your day as normal, and I will remove it myself later tonight.” His grey,
storm-like eyes clash into mine. “Every time you sit down or fucking move
today, I want you to be reminded that not only do I own your cunt but I also
own your ass.”
SEVENTEEN
 INDIE

“ONE OF MY connections checked out the lot of horses being sent into
Canada. She saw a black thoroughbred there, but she can’t be sure if it was
Jupiter. The man running the lot wasn’t interested in letting her get close to
the animal, let alone rescue it. Or any of the other horses there, for that
matter. He’s holding out, seeing if we can put together more money to free
them.”
There are very few legitimate establishments in the states that sell and
ship horses across the borders to be slaughtered, but each one of them is run
by the scum of the earth. They see dollar signs, not living, breathing
animals. So, of course, he’s running a hard bargain.
I’ve been trying to keep my hopes low, but Tessa’s update right now has
all but made my hope go out the window. It’s already been so long since
anyone has laid eyes on my precious stallion. At this point, we’re grasping
at straws and clinging to the remnants of our silent wishes that he’s still
alive.
“In two weeks, we are headed there ourselves and I’ll look for him with
my own eyes, Indie. If Jupiter is there, I will bring him home to you. That’s
a promise I can keep. For you and your father.” Tessa is trying to keep my
spirits high but I’m feeling completely defeated.
 “Thank you, Tess.” I fight the burn forming in my throat as tears
threaten to fall. “Talk to you soon.”
Tessa says her goodbyes and the call disconnects.
I have multiple assignments due this week and I’d planned on working
on them tonight, but after that phone call, all I want to do is crawl into bed
for the night. Astor said this morning before he left my room after our
morning sex fest that he had a dinner meeting and he’d be home late. While
he’s out, I suppose I can watch mindless TV and try to forget about Jupiter.
A couple hour reprieve would be nice.
I’d stay out here on his back deck but the weather is starting to change
and it’s a little bit too chilly for that. I’m about to stand up from the wooden
patio chair when my phone buzzes in my lap. Thinking it’ll be Tessa again,
I anxiously answer the phone, not bothering to look at the caller ID, but the
voice on the other side takes me by surprise.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Indie.”
I sit up straighter in my chair. “Callan? You’re calling me? You never
called me when we were dating, but now you are?”
“I know, the irony isn’t lost on me either, but I actually need to ask you
a favor. Will you be at the house tomorrow? The present I got my dad
should be delivered then and someone needs to sign for it.” His voice is
slightly muffled by the sound of loud street noises, like he’s in a city
standing on a sidewalk or something. He’s probably back in New York.
“Umm …” I think about my schedule tomorrow. “I don’t have classes
tomorrow, but I do have to be at the barn for a couple lessons around four.”
“Perfect, the confirmation said it should be delivered before then.
Thanks, Indie.”
I stand up from the chair and head through the glass doors. “Is his
birthday tomorrow?” Astor has access to my school files and all kinds of
other information. Meanwhile, I’m in the dark for the most part when it
comes to him.
“No, it’s Friday.” I hear him mumble something to someone else, but I
can’t make out what he says.
“Will you be here for it?” If they’re going to be here celebrating Astor’s
birthday, I don’t think I need to be here. Maybe I can call Lark and go do
something with her so I don’t intrude on their day. It might be weird for me
to be there. I’m not family, and I wouldn’t really consider myself a friend
either.
“What? No. We’ve never really celebrated his birthday together. We just
exchange gifts and call it a day.”
My heart sinks hearing this. Birthdays were always a big deal at my
house—or they were when my dad was alive. He always went above and
beyond for me on that day, and it makes me sad that no one does the same
for Astor.
“Oh … okay,” I mutter, a plan already formulating in my head. Whether
it’s a good one is yet to be known. “Don’t worry about your gift, I’ll take
care of it.”
“Thank you, Indie.”
I stare at the dark screen after I hang up and think about my next moves.
My assignments are long forgotten and my sorrow for Jupiter is
momentarily lessened now that I have a real task in front of me.
Everyone should have their birthday celebrated, and Astor Banes is no
different. What’s funny is I want to do this. I want to celebrate the man who
swept me up in this turbulent and uncontrollable storm.
EIGHTEEN
 ASTOR

ALL I WANT to do as I walk through the doors of my house is take a

shower and find my girl and fuck her until we both fall asleep.
My day started with an early meeting and ending with a dinner meeting
that ran an extra hour because some people just don’t know when to stop
talking. When the business portion of a meeting is done, I’m ready to leave.
I don’t find it necessary to stay and chat about things like their daughter’s
dance recital or how their ailing relative is doing. Those things don’t
concern me, nor do they interest me, but alas, sometimes we just have to
play the part to maintain business relationships. No matter how tedious the
task.
Removing my sports coat—still damp from the rain outside—I begin to
ascend the grand staircase to go in search of Indie, but sounds coming from
the kitchen have me pausing and changing course. The housekeeper is long
gone for the day and the chef I have on hand didn’t work today as I ate all
my meals out. Meaning the object of my obsession isn’t waiting in her room
for me like she usually is.
Stalking further into the house, my blood all but hums at the
anticipation of touching her. I hear Indie before I see her, and her words
leave me utterly confused.
 “Oh, my god, you piece of shit. Why won’t you stay? Honestly, how
many pieces of tape is it going to take? This shouldn’t be so hard.”
But I’m even more confused when I walk into the kitchen and find her
standing barefoot on top of my countertops. Between her teeth, she holds a
roll of Scotch tape while her hands attempt to secure a long piece of black
and white streamer to the top of the kitchen cabinet. Her pretty face
brightens when it seems to finally stick, but before she can celebrate her
victory, the other end of the streamer that is connected to the other side of
the room comes undone.
“Fuck,” she groans around the roll of tape as her head falls back in
frustration.
By the looks of my kitchen, it appears she’s succeeded in making other
pieces of streamer stay in place at least a couple dozen times. Black and
white decorations elaborately crisscross the entire span of the ceiling, and
matching balloons are tied to each of the four barstools.
What the hell is going on in here?
“You were so close,” I remark, finally stepping further into the room
and announcing my presence.
Indie spins so fast in my direction, she nearly topples off the countertop.
The way my heart seizes in my chest at the fear of her unintentionally
hurting herself is painful and, frankly, unexpected. When did her safety and
wellbeing become a true concern of mine? She isn’t supposed to be more
than a plaything. Right?
My legs have me darting toward her before my mind has a chance to
catch up, but luckily for us both, she manages to regain her balance.
Her amber eyes dart to me and her mouth gapes, the roll of tape falling
to the hardwood floors. “Shit! You’re here already!”
Hands tucked casually into the pockets of my slacks, I take a few steps
closer. “Yes, I’m here. Almost two hours later than expected because of the
rain.” You’d think in a state that rains as much as Washington, people
would learn to fucking drive in it.
“It’s raining?” Indie’s head snaps in the direction of the large windows
overlooking the back deck.
“Yes.”
At neck-breaking speeds, Indie jumps from the countertop and sprints to
the glass back doors. She disappears through them without an explanation
or look back at me. Through the heavy rainfall, I hear sharp curses come
from her.
A moment later, she reenters the house, white shirt and hair already
damp with water. In her hand she holds the strings of a large bouquet of
black and white balloons. Her eyes frantically look for a place to leave them
before she gives up and just lets them go. They promptly float to the ceiling
as she darts back out the open doors.
She returns again, this time with sopping wet streamers—the same ones
decorating my kitchen—tangled around her arms and hands. The paper is
practically disintegrating into nothing before our eyes, but she doesn’t
appear to be willing to give up on them yet. She dumps them on the kitchen
island before attempting to go back outside for presumably more
decorations.
My hand locks around her upper arm before she can run back into the
rain.
“Indie.” I attempt to pull her attention away from her frantic task, but
she seems to be steadfast on her mission to save whatever remains outside
because she pays me no mind. Her eyes barely flick in my direction. So, I
try again, this time, with a sterner tone. “Indie. Stop.”
“No!” she argues. “I was trying to make it special and now it’s all
getting ruined.”
I’m still so lost on what is happening here. “You were trying to make
what special?”
 She stops fighting me and I release her arm. The defeated look on her
face reminds me of the one she wore when she first came to my office
asking for help.
Indie pushes the wet strands of her hair off her forehead, and sighs,
“Your birthday.”
It’s not often I’m completely caught off guard but right now, I am.
“My birthday?” I repeat, sounding as dumbfounded as I feel.
My obvious shock must be lost on her because she continues with her
rattled and chaotic explanation.
“You’ve done so much to help me, and I wanted to return the favor, but
I’m also a firm believer that everyone should have their birthday celebrated.
I had this whole plan to surprise you when you got home, but it’s not
exactly going to plan …” she trails off, eyes looking at the balloons that are
now floating against my twelve-foot ceilings. “It was overcast, but still
pretty nice out so I decorated the deck thinking it’d be fun to sit out there,
but I finished early and my too-much gene kicked in and then I thought
‘hey, why don’t I decorate the kitchen too?’” Her face pinches in a grimace.
“But that took longer than I expected, and I lost track of time, and now
you’re here and I look like a hot mess.” Her fingers tug at the loose white T-
shirt she wears with a pair of cotton shorts.
“But all of this? You did for me? For my birthday?” With a
quick look at the balloon tied to the bar chairs, I find that they do in fact say
‘Happy Birthday’ in a whimsical curly font.
Indie looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Yes, for your
birthday. Come on, Astor, keep up with me here.”
As my name falls from her lips, I realize it’s the first time she’s ever
addressed me by name. It happens so casually and comfortably, it’s as if
she’s been doing so for years. It’s in this very moment that I discover that
not only do I want her to address me as such moving forward, I also want to
know what it’s like to have her scream my name as I fuck her.
 Like a little kid excited to show off a new toy, she dashes to the
stainless-steel refrigerator and pulls out two pink boxes. Flipping the lids,
she reveals two personal sized cakes.
“I didn’t know if you were a chocolate or vanilla fan, so I got both to be
safe.” Before I have a chance to respond, she reaches into the freezer and
pulls out a pint of ice cream. “If you’re not a cake person, I also got ice
cream. Again, I had to guess on the flavor. I guess if you want to be crazy,
you can have both. I won’t judge.”
At this point, I find I’m truly too stunned to respond to anything she’s
saying. All I can do is stand here as she flits around me showing me what
she’s done. For me.
She picks up a perfectly wrapped present from the breakfast nook table.
“This is from Callan. He said I could just leave it in the cardboard shipping
box it came in, but that felt … wrong. So, I wrapped it for him.”
Callan. That explains how she knew it was my birthday. Up until she
mentioned it, I myself had forgotten that it was today. It stopped being a
noteworthy day for me long ago.
“Oh! I also got you candles, but I’m thinking you’re not really a ‘blow
out candles and make a wish’ kind of guy.” Her frantic flurry comes to an
end and as it does, her big amber eyes stare at me expectantly.
And as I stand there, staring blankly back at her, I watch the hope drain
from her expression.
“This was a big mistake, wasn’t it? Oh, fuck, you hate it. Callan said
you didn’t celebrate, and like an idiot, I never thought to ask why. Is all of
this dredging up horrible traumatic childhood memories? Shit, shit, shit.
Okay, here just … look away and I’ll take it all down.”
With a new mission, she rushes past me and beelines for the very
countertop she’d been standing on when I got home. She’s just about
climbed up when my arm loops around her thin waist and I hoist her away.
 “What? No! Put me down so I can put all this crap away.” When I
ignore her request, she begins to struggle in my hold.
Wordlessly, I turn her in my hold and place her back on the countertop
in a sitting position. Of course, she can’t help but try to get away one last
time, but my hands lock on her bare legs, trapping her in place. “Enough.
Sit still.”
“I’m so embarrassed. Just let me go, Astor.” She sighs as she drops her
face into her hands.
My finger lifts her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “Why are you
embarrassed?”
Her eyebrows pull together. “Are you seriously asking me that right
now?” Her hands gesture wildly around the decorated space. “Look around
you! I did all of this for you, and not once did I ever consider that you may
not like it.”
As if on cue, one of the long pieces of streamer comes undone and the
end of it flutters to the ground. At the sight, Indie’s whole body slumps and
a whimper comes from her frowning lips.
“Who says I don’t like it?”
“Umm … your face does? I may not know what type of cake you prefer
or what your favorite color is—hence the black and white decorations—but
I think by now I’ve learned to read your facial expressions.”
She tries to pull away from me again, and this time I cup the side of her
face, threading my fingers into her damp hair in the process. “Well, pretty
girl, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it seems you may need more
practice, because you’re wrong. I don’t hate it.” I’m not sure how I feel
about it yet, but I know it’s quite the opposite of hate. “You simply …
caught me off guard. Up until the very moment you said this was all for me
—for my birthday—I hadn’t realized it was today.”
“What? How is that possible? You can’t just forget your birthday.”
 “The last time I truly celebrated my birthday was when I was seventeen
years old. When my mother passed the next year, my father declared we no
longer needed to participate in such trivial things like birthdays or holidays.
After that, those special days became just normal Tuesdays or Thursdays.” I
tried to go out of my way to do the opposite for Callan when he was a child,
but I’ll admit it didn’t come easy. In many ways, I’m sure I’ve failed my
son, and this was probably another example of my fatherly shortcomings.
Big amber eyes full of sorrow look up at me. “I’m sorry, Astor.”
“It’s okay. I never felt like I was missing out on anything special.” I
look around the room, examining all the effort she put into this for me.
“Until now.”
The light returns to her face as relief sets in her features. “Maybe you
were just missing someone to celebrate with.”
“Perhaps.”
No part of our arrangement required she do something like this, and yet,
she went out of her way to make today special for me. I can’t remember a
time that someone went through so much effort for me without it being
demanded of them. She simply did this because she wanted to.
I find myself staring at her as if I’m suddenly seeing her in a brand-new
light. Like the cloud of lust and uncontrollable hunger I’ve had for her is
momentarily lifted, and I’m left seeing the kindhearted and warm woman
she is. There’s some black smudged under her eyes from running out in the
rain and her cheeks are flushed from the lingering embarrassment. Her hair
is tangled and mussed from the wind and from having my fingers woven
into the strands, but still, she looks beautiful staring up at me.
My prolonged examination of her has Indie’s teeth nibbling on her pink
bottom lip. The action only amplifies my sudden desire to kiss her. When
she smiles softly up at me and whispers, “Happy birthday, Astor,” I give
into the yearning.
 At the first brush of my mouth against hers, it has her body seizing in
shock and my breath locking painfully in my chest. I can’t remember the
last time I truly wanted to kiss a woman, but with Indie, I feel like if I don’t
kiss her now, I’ll regret not doing so the rest of my life. I already have a
long list of regrets, and this is one I don’t want added to it.
As if we’re both giving in to the moment—to each other—the caged air
in my lungs finally releases and Indie melts into my touch. The victory I
experience when she kisses me back is unexpected but somehow
welcomed.
Her hands reach out for me, but at the first brush of her fingers against
my button-down-clad shoulders, she retracts them like she’s been caught
doing something that isn’t allowed. It dawns on me that, until this moment,
she’s never been the one to initiate touch. I’ve always been the one to reach
for her first, so she simply doesn’t know that she’s allowed to return the
favor.
It’s my fault. I’ve never given her any reason to believe otherwise.
“Touch me,” I growl against her soft lips.
With the unspoken restriction lifted, I learn that Indie has been holding
back all this time. Her hands are everywhere and anywhere all at once,
tracing every line of my chest and back as I devour her mouth. I lick along
her seam, and she parts for me eagerly, sliding her tongue against mine. A
delicious moan comes from her throat as her fingers venture to the short
strands of my hair. She tugs at them, pulling me closer to her.
My cock, straining against my slacks, is eagerly waiting to be buried in
her once more, but for now, I’m enjoying this. It’s new and addicting in its
own refreshing way. In the past, when I’ve kissed a woman like so, I’ve
done so with the promise of it leading to the bedroom, but right now, I just
want to experience this. I want to explore her and her sweet kisses for a
while longer.
 As I do so, I begin to wonder if this arrangement is somehow evolving
past just sex? Is my plaything becoming a toy I want to keep? As she clings
to my body, moaning, I begin to wonder if that’s truly a bad thing.
NINETEEN
 INDIE

I HOLD the phone closer to my ear as I step out of the busy coffee shop
where I’ve been studying between classes. Tessa’s talking to me, but her
words stopped registering a minute ago when she broke the news. The tears
of relief started welling in my eyes almost immediately, and now that I’m
standing on the sidewalk alone, they’re freely falling.
“Indie, did you hear what I said?” Tessa questions. “Another animal
rights organization bought the entire lot of horses. A donor came through
and they offered twice what we were able to. They’ve all been moved to a
temporary horse sanctuary near Snohomish. Amy and I are headed there as
we speak. If Jupiter is there like we think he is, he’s safe, Indie.”
“Really?” My voice is thick with overwhelming emotion, and my
bottom lip wobbles as I fight a sob. I wipe the tears from my face, but it’s
no use. More fall seconds later. “He’s safe.”
“We have every reason to believe that he was there. Two people have
reported seeing a horse that matches his description. They even talked about
the white mark on his hind leg.”
Doubt still creeps in like ice water crashing down on a happy moment.
“They could be wrong. A black horse isn’t exactly rare.”
Tessa is quick to shut down my reservations though. “We’re choosing to
believe that it’s him until we know otherwise.”
 “Okay.” My head nods as I think over my next steps. There’s only one
thing I can do now, right? “Send me the address. I’m meeting you there. I
need to see for myself if it’s him.” I’m already rushing back inside the shop
and shoving everything into my bag, not caring if the notes I’d been
working on for hours wrinkle or tear.
“I think you should stay put, Indie. Some of the horses are probably in
rough shape and it can be grim. You shouldn’t have to see it.”
While I appreciate her looking out for me, I’m not taking her
suggestion. “I said I’m coming. Text me the address, Tess.” I disconnect the
line before she has a chance to argue with me further.
The heels of my leather boots pound into the ground as I run out of the
establishment and down the sidewalk to where I parked my car. My bag
spills out everywhere on the passenger side floorboard when I toss it inside.
That’s a problem and a mess for another time. My focus is on Jupiter now.
For two months I’ve been waiting for this phone call. The chances still
aren’t in my favor, but this is the closest we’ve ever gotten and I’m clinging
to the sliver of hope that he’s truly there waiting for me.
Before I back out of the parking spot I’m in, I decide to send Astor a
quick text. He’ll want to know where I am if I don’t show up tonight like
we’d planned. Since his birthday two weeks ago, we’ve had dinner together
almost every night. I’m honestly not sure how it started, but without even
trying, we’ve fallen into an easy routine. At night, one of us picks up food
on our way home, and in the mornings, whoever is up first brings the other
coffee. Within the first two days, he’d learned to make it just how I like it,
though he relentlessly chastises me for the amount of sugar I use.
I’ll admit it feels a little like we’re playing house. I’m not complaining
though. The shift between us since that night has been nice. Really nice.
The intoxicating heat and passion between us hasn’t simmered down, but
there’s now a comfortability between us that was lacking before. Like
we’ve both slowly started shedding the walls we’d unknowingly put up.
 At this point, the tricky part is not getting too comfortable. There’s still
an end date looming in our future. Just like my relationship with Callan, my
arrangement with Astor is short term. Next spring, we’ll have to go our
separate ways, and already the very thought of doing so creates an
unpleasant feeling in my chest. I’m quickly becoming attached.
Indie: I’ll explain later, but I’ll be home late. I’m sorry.
As my message sends to him, one from Tessa pops up with the address,
and all thoughts of waiting for his reply disappear into thin air. I’m sure
there will be hell to pay later with him, but any punishment I must endure at
Astor’s hands is worth it if I truly do get Jupiter back.

TRAILERS ARE SCATTERED ALL around the large piece of property

and volunteers in matching light blue shirts are helping lead the rescued
horses into the large barn-like structure in the middle. I wonder if the newly
liberated animals know that they’re safe now, that their value is no longer
being measured by the amount of meat they can provide. Each one is
getting a new lease on life, and I’m excited for each one of them even if I’m
only here for one horse in particular.
With Tessa and Amy involved, I know they’ll all go to homes they can
thrive in. The couple won’t adopt them out until they are one hundred
percent sure they’ll be safe in their new home. Knowing Tessa, she’d keep
the whole herd herself if she needed to. If it came down to it, she has the
resources and ability to do so.
Like she’s been pacing the walls waiting for me to show up, Tessa
appears in the wide doorway before I have a chance to enter the chaos
happening inside. From the looks of it, there must be at least forty people
here helping unload and separate the horses into stalls and various round
pins.
Tessa’s wild curly hair is tied into a bun on top of her head and her
freckled face looks troubled when she steps in front of me. Her expression
is usually one of positivity. She’s definitely one of those obnoxious glass
half full people. That’s why, without her having to even say it aloud, I
know.
“He’s not here, is he?” I’m proud of how I’m able to keep my voice
even and calm when I feel as if my soul is breaking in sharp, irreparable
pieces. “He was never part of this group, was he? It was a different horse
they saw.”
Tessa’s head shakes. “That’s the thing, Indie. It was him. We were right,
he was there.”
My heart constricts painfully in my chest and dread snakes down my
spine and limbs, a cold fog following in its wake. “What do you mean was?
Where is he now? What happened to my horse, Tessa?” Calmness has
abandoned me all together and panic has stepped up in its place.
My trainer’s mouth opens and closes like she doesn’t know how to find
the words. What’s happened that is so hard for her to say aloud? Flashes of
every horrible possibility flip through my head in a frenzied storm.
“Is he dead?” I choke out, my throat and eyes burning.
This has her whole body jolting in surprise and her hands reach for my
shoulders. “No, no, honey. He’s not dead.” Despite her reassuring words
and the way she now holds me, it does little to soothe my fear.
My breath is coming in shaky gasps as I plead with her. “How do you
know for a fact that he was here? Did you see him yourself? Please just tell
me.”
She reaches into the dark-red puffer vest she wears and hands me a
polaroid photo. With trembling fingers, I take it from her and choke on a
sob when I examine it. The picture is small and grainy, but his fear and
malnutrition are crystal clear. The strong stallion that always stood so tall
with confidence is nowhere to be seen. Jupiter is too skinny and the same
look of defeat I’ve worn these last few months is evident in his posture. He
looks like he’s close to giving up.
“The organization that rescued them takes these of each of the horses
and posts them on a bulletin board at their headquarters so they can
remember who they’re fighting for. This was taken earlier this morning
when they first got to the auction lot,” Tessa explains gently. “Rachel, the
woman in charge of all of this, gave it to me when she explained what
happened.”
“If this was taken this morning, where is he now?”
She tucks the strand of hair that’s fallen into my face behind my ear.
The motion is so motherly, but it doesn’t bring me any comfort. “He’s
already been adopted, Indie. The woman who donated the large sum of
money to purchase all the horses had one stipulation. She wanted Jupiter.
Rachel couldn’t refuse her and risk the rest of the horses getting sent across
the border. She had to give him to her.”
Tears pour out of my eyes, landing on the photo in my hand. “Why him?
Why’d she want Jupiter?”
Tessa’s head shakes sorrowfully. “Rachel doesn’t know. She tried to
explain your situation, but the woman was determined to take him with
her.”
“So that’s it? He really is gone now?”
“I think so, honey.” I expect her to tell me she has a plan of action on
how to get my horse back, but the fight in her is gone. She’s accepted the
situation. “But he’s safe. This situation feels hopeless and I’m terribly sorry
it didn’t end how either one of us wanted, but I want you to remember that
he’s alive. That’s what is important.”
“I’m just supposed to, what, give up? Move on?” Just saying those
words aloud was painful and difficult, how am I supposed to actually follow
through with it?
“I don’t really see another option, sweetheart.”
I feel like I’m being buried alive with everything that’s been thrown my
way these past few months. The sliver of hope that in the end I’d win and
get Jupiter back has kept my head above the surface. The fact that I have
truly lost him has boney, cold fingers of defeat wrapping around my ankles
and they’re pulling me under.
In this moment of utter despair, I’m not even sure I care that I can’t
breathe.

TWENTY MINUTES.
That’s how long I drove before the tears became too blinding and I had
to pull to the side of the road. And here I’ve sat for two hours. The sun has
gone down, and I think my phone died. The constant obnoxious buzzing of
phone calls and texts stopped a while ago. Maybe Astor and Tessa just gave
up and are letting me have the space I so desperately need right now.
I need time to mourn, and I don’t think I’ll be able to do that at Astor’s
house, let alone in front of him. Our walls are coming down, but I doubt
dealing with my emotional breakdown is part of the arrangement Astor
created or something he’s prepared to do.
My tears stopped coming a little while ago. Even if I wanted to cry
more, I think my tear ducts have temporarily gone on strike. So now I sit
here in silence on this dark back country road waiting for the same
acceptance Tessa found so easily to come to me, but it’s not happening. No
matter how hard I try, I can’t see the positive angle.
I lost my best friend and last link to my dad today.
 My dad. I wonder if he’s disappointed in me that I couldn’t find Jupiter
in time. He’s probably more upset that I allowed him to be taken in the first
place. I’m pretty sure I’m disappointed enough in myself for the both of us.
Horribly bright headlights shine into my dark car as an SUV drives
down the road. This happens every couple of minutes, and each time I just
shield my sensitive, swollen eyes and wait for them to pass. This time is
different though. They make an illegal U-turn right as they reach me.
Alarm bells go off in my head when they park right behind me. For the
first time since I pulled over, the realization that I’m all alone in the middle
of bumfuck nowhere with a dead cellphone hits me. This all but confirms
I’d be the first one dead in a horror movie.
Frozen in fear for only a second, I jump into action. Turning the keys in
the ignition, I prepare to drive away like a bat out of hell, but with one last
look in my rearview mirror, my escape plan goes out the window. As it
does, a different kind of fear settles in my bones.
I’m not about to be abducted. No, I’m about to be scolded.
Astor found me.
TWENTY
 ASTOR

THE PLANS I’d made for tonight imploded when she’d sent me that text.
She said she was going to be late and so I waited an hour for her to
finally come home, but she never did. Every single one of my phone calls
and text messages went unanswered. Each time her sweet voice recited her
voicemail message in my ear, my anger only grew. I’m not sure how many
traffic laws I broke as I drove down here in a fury, but I’m lucky that I’m
not currently being detained by police officers as we speak.
As I walk up to her car and finally lay my eyes on her, I come to the
startling realization that the emotion I was feeling wasn’t anger. It was
distress. Besides my son, I can’t remember a time I was this concerned over
another’s safety like I am with Indie’s. Every possibility of what could have
happened played in my head as I searched for her. For a minute, I even
entertained the idea that she’d left me and her life here behind, but that idea
was ultimately disregarded. She’s worked too hard to remain here to walk
away from it now.
Indie’s friend, Tessa, had finally called my office and Cheska had given
her my cell phone number. The trainer knew that Indie was staying with me
and wanted to know if she’d made it home safe as she too had been trying
to get ahold of Indie for some time. She’d explained that Indie had left in an
emotional state after learning her beloved horse had already been adopted.
Tessa graciously gave me the address of where the sanctuary was before we
hung up and I used that as a starting point for my search to find my girl.
Indie doesn’t turn her head when I stop beside her driver’s side door.
Her eyes stay stubbornly pointed ahead. It’s not until my knuckles rap
against the glass does she move, but even then, it’s only to roll down her
window.
Not really interested in exchanging pleasantries on the side of this
goddamn road, I get straight to the point. “What the fuck do you think
you’re doing out here? What have I said about forcing me to search you out,
Indie? I don’t do this.” And yet for her, I’ve done it twice. “Get out of the
fucking car. We’re leaving.”
My nonnegotiable order has her hackles rising and head whipping in my
direction. Fury blazes in her like amber fire. “Don’t act like someone forced
you to drive out here. I sure as shit didn’t. All I needed was a little while to
collect my thoughts—to process—what happened. I figured all your
ignored calls would have conveyed that message clearly, but apparently you
can’t take a fucking hint, Mr. Banes.”
My molars grind. She hasn’t called me that since the night of my
birthday, and right now, it feels like a slap in the face. “Have you forgotten
who you’re talking to?”
Now that she’s finally looking at me and with the help of my car’s
bright headlights, I take stock of her appearance. Her eyeliner and mascara
are smeared under her swollen, red eyes. God knows how long she sat here
and cried. Her complexion is pale, and she just looks exhausted—
emotionally and physically.
Her head shakes. “Nope, I know exactly who I’m talking to, and I hope
that also makes it obvious just how serious I’m being when I tell you to
leave. I can’t do this with you right now. Losing Jupiter has taken
everything out of me, I have nothing left to give you.” She’s trying to be
strong, but I can hear the slight hitch in her voice as she fights the building
sobs.
“As I recall, I haven’t yet asked you to give me anything.”
“Yeah? Well, the night is young. What happens when we go home and
you want me to spread my legs for you? Am I just supposed to shove down
the utter despair I’m feeling and do it happily with a smile on my face?”
She’s projecting her anger at me. I’m well aware of this and can even
say I understand it, but I can’t stop the surge of rage in my veins. “You
really think so lowly of me, Indie, that you think I’d ask you to fuck me
while you have snot running down your face and tears in your eyes?”
Finding my question humorous, she chokes out a sardonic laugh. “Since
when do you have to ask? Isn’t that the deal we made? ‘Mine to call upon,
mine to have when I please, mine to touch in any way I see fit.’ That’s what
you said, isn’t it?”
My fingers curl into angry fists, and to resist further denting her piece of
shit car with them, I simply place them on top of the car and lean down so
we’re eye level. “This is your one pass, pretty girl. I’m going to forget you
said that because I know you’re heartbroken right now, but before we
completely move on, I want to ask you one question. Can you name one
occasion in which I’ve physically forced you to do something you didn’t
truly want to do? That you didn’t fucking crave?”
She tries to keep up the fight, but within seconds it melts from her body
and the flames extinguish in her big sad eyes. “No,” she sighs. “You haven’t
forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do.”
“That’s what I fucking thought,” I growl in agreement. “Now, you have
five seconds to get out of this car yourself. If you chose to continue to be
stubborn, I will pull you through this fucking window.”
Wordlessly, she rolls up the window and collects her things. A minute
later, she emerges from the car looking thoroughly miserable and dejected.
 “Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time out here as it is.” The original
plan I’d foreseen for tonight is ruined, but I still may be able to salvage
some of it if we can get there before they close for the night.
“What about my car? What if someone steals it?”
I glance at the silver sedan that is probably just shy of two years older
than her. The parts that it would take to get it in proper working order
would be thousands of dollars more than it’s worth. “Then they’d be doing
you a fucking favor.” Before she can argue with me, I take her bag from her
and thread my fingers through hers. “Come on, pretty girl, let’s get you
home.”
TWENTY-ONE
 INDIE

IF MY GRIEF wasn’t going to keep me quiet on the drive home,

embarrassment for my behavior with Astor sure as hell is. The whole hour
drive back home, I can’t even bring myself to look at him or even out the
window. Instead, I just stare at my lap and get lost in the memories I was
fortunate enough to create with Jupiter and my dad. All of my best ones
include one or both of them, and I think that’s part of what makes this so
hard. All I have left of either of them are memories.
My fear now is that I’m going to start to forget them. What will I do
then? I don’t have anyone in my life that I can reminisce about them with
now that my mom has all but disowned me. I’m suddenly feeling very
alone in this world. They’ve all left me, and each second that passes brings
Astor one step closer to doing the same thing.
What a really fucking depressing thought.
I don’t look up until Astor’s Porsche SUV comes to a stop and his
window rolls down. For a split second, I think he’s stopped at a drive-thru,
but the very thought of Astor Banes consuming fast food is laughable. His
palette is far too refined for such a thing. I’m shocked to find that we’ve
stopped in front of a large iron gate and that Astor is rolling down his
window to a man sitting in the small security shack attached to it.
 “Astor Banes,” he tells the guard. “We were supposed to arrive earlier,
but I called and warned we’d be late. The owner authorized it.”
The guard shifts in his seat. “Ah, so you’re the guy I’m getting paid
overtime for.”
Astor stares blankly at the man, not a single fuck reflected in his
expression. Keeping the conversation short and to the point, he tersely
responds with, “We’ll be here for less than an hour.”
“Fine by me, dude. I’ve got a kid starting college next year, I need all
the overtime I can get.” He shrugs before hitting a button that opens the
metal gate.
Ignoring the man’s waving hand, Astor rolls up the window and pulls
through the gate. Thirty seconds later, the smooth asphalt street turns into
rough gravel as we follow the single lane road illuminated by ornate
streetlamps. Having completely checked out during our drive here, I have
no sense of direction. It’s so dark out here, I can’t see any nearby landmarks
to help with my bearings.
“Where are we?” I question him. “I just want to go home, Astor. It’s
been such a horrible day.”
“This whole thing would be far less confusing for you had we come
here in the daylight like I’d originally planned. Had you simply answered
your phone or, better yet, come home like you were supposed to, you would
understand.”
My arms tighten across my chest as a scowl forms on my face. “You’re
not really going to sit here and scold me for attempting to find Jupiter, are
you?”
He doesn’t offer me a response; his eyes simply glance over at me. The
expression on his face is truly unreadable and I’m still trying to decipher it
as we come to a stop in front of a large building. No, not a building … a
barn.
“Why on earth would you bring me to a barn today of all days?”
 Again, he ignores me. Cutting the engine, he gets out and walks around
the car to open my door. In a move that seems too gallant for Astor, he
offers his hand to help me out of the SUV. Suspicious and a little wounded
he’d bring me here when my emotional cuts are still bleeding profusely, I
hesitate a moment before reluctantly allowing him to lead me away from
the car.
This barn is nothing like the one I was raised in or the one I’m currently
working at. This one screams money and luxury. The exterior is made of
pretty stone and cedar wood, both of which are visible because of the warm
glow of the lanterns mounted about. The wrought iron that accents each of
the arched windows completes the pretty aesthetic. I know without having
seen any of the horses inside that they’re worth more than most luxury
vehicles, and the people that board them here are in similar tax brackets as
Astor.
He procures a key card out of his jacket pocket and scans it on the fancy
electronic lock. Why the fuck does Astor have a key to a barn? His thing is
falconry, not horses. The light flashes green and he releases my hand to
open the door for me.
Just like a moment ago, I pause before walking inside, and this only
causes his eyes to roll and an exasperated sigh to escape him.
“Do you require an engraved invitation? Get inside.” To ensure I do as
I’m told, his free hand reaches for the small of my back and he gives me a
slight push inside.
Just like the exterior, the interior is made of the same cedar wood and
pretty iron finishes. There are even rustic looking chandeliers hanging from
the two-story high ceiling. Meanwhile, at my current barn, the light in the
tack room has been out for weeks. They keep saying they’ll fix it, but as of
two days ago, I’m still using my phone flashlight to find my supplies.
I stand there partially in awe of the place, just staring down the long row
of stalls on either side of the barn. There must be at least thirty of them, and
from the looks of it, they’re mostly occupied with horses. I swallow hard
when I feel the pain of my loss creep to the surface. In an attempt to not
completely lose it in front of Astor, I clear my throat and turn around.
My chin drops to my chest and my eyes squeeze shut like it will
somehow help block out my surroundings. “I don’t want to be here,” I
whimper.
But, of course, he won’t accept this. Astor’s finger comes under my
chin and forces me to look up at him. The tenderness I find in his stormy
eyes makes my air catch. This side of him is completely new to me. The
closest I’ve come to seeing this look is the night he kissed me for the first
time, but even then, it didn’t come close to this.
“You told me once that you whistled every time you entered a barn, why
didn’t you just now?”
I can’t believe he remembers me telling him that. At the time, I wasn’t
even sure he was listening to me talk about the habit I picked up from my
dad. “What’s the point in doing so when I know that he’s gone? When I
know there won’t be an answer?”
The corner of Astor’s mouth lifts in a shadow of a smile. “Humor me.”
My brows furrow as I frown up at him. “Is this some kind of sick game
to you? If so, I’m not having fun, Astor.”
He shakes his head at this. “Just do it, Indie.”
Grudgingly, I lick my bottom lip and pull in a lung full of air. I grew up
hearing this whistle, it doesn’t matter how much time passes, it’s a sound
that I will always be able to recreate. I’m pretty sure I mastered it before I
learned how to speak most words.
The sound echoes through the vast space and the hurt pieces of my soul.
My heart breaks a little more when we’re unsurprisingly met by deafening
silence.
“See?” I sniff, tears welling in my eyes. “A totally pointless exercise—”
 A noise I truly never thought I’d hear again has my entire world
stopping and heart thudding painfully against my ribcage. The whinny is
softer than usual, but still, I know it belongs to him. I’d recognize it
anywhere. No matter how it might change or differ, I could still pick it out
of a crowd of hundreds.
I’m unable to stop the choked sob from escaping. “He’s here?”
Astor gently grasps either side of my face and his thumbs wipe away the
cascade of tears. His next words are ones that I will cherish the rest of my
life.
“He’s here, baby.”
TWENTY-TWO
 ASTOR

THE CHOKED noise she makes sounds like one of pain as we reach his
stall, but I know differently. It’s one of complete and utter relief. This is the
moment she’s been fighting so hard for. The reunion that felt borderline
impossible has finally come and the emotional event is enough to make
Indie’s stunningly beautiful face break into a million pieces at the sight of
her beloved horse.
Indie’s hands cover her face, and she unapologetically weeps into them.
The sight makes an unreachable place in my sternum ache. Never in my
forty-two years of life have I experienced such a sensation. Not until her.
My Indie.
In a move that feels shockingly like second nature to me, like it’s
something I’ve always done, I reach out and pull her to me. She doesn’t
fight me, in fact, the second she makes contact with my chest, she melts
into me. I hold her, hands soothing down her back, while she cries every
last tear her body is capable of producing. I can’t bring myself to care that
her tears and makeup are staining my light gray dress shirt.
“It’s okay, pretty girl, I’ve got you,” I whisper my reassurance—my
promise—to her.
For several minutes, we remain like this before she finally releases a
shuddering breath and withdraws back. Red-rimmed amber eyes look up at
me, a look of awe and gratitude shimmering brightly in them.
“You did this …” Indie starts, voice scratchy from her emotional
rollercoaster of a day. “You were the mystery donor that saved them all.
You saved Jupiter.”
Being praised for a good deed is something completely foreign to me. It
creates an uneasy sensation to form under my skin. Yet another thing I’m
not accustomed to. “I can’t honestly say that purchasing the entire herd was
part of my original plan. Jupiter was my main and only concern, but I
couldn’t very well leave them all there now, could I?”
I did it because I knew she’d want me to, and for some reason, that
became my driving force. This whole relationship started with my desire to
have her please me, and now, the roles have been reversed. I want to please
her. I wanted to ease her constant and unrelenting worry. I wanted to be the
reason she didn’t frown in her sleep any longer. Simply, I wanted to be the
reason she smiled. When it comes down to it, I suppose I can’t say my
motives were all selfless.
“But why did Tessa say a woman was behind all of this?”
“Her name is Giuliana. She’s worked for my family for almost a decade
now. They send her to handle business on their behalf when they can’t or
don’t want to do it themselves. Occasionally, I still require her help, and
since she has a bleeding heart much like you, she was more than happy to
handle this for me.” It was probably a nice break from her usual business
dealings. Fuck knows the shit she’s seen working under Emeric’s control.
“Once we had confirmation that Jupiter was in fact at that facility two
weeks ago, we’ve been arranging his freedom ever since.”
Indie’s head shakes in disbelief at this. “I don’t … I don’t understand.
You really did all of this to free him?”
“No, I didn’t do it for him,” I admit, tucking the short strands of her
dark hair behind her ear. “I did it for you, pretty girl.”
 In a matter of seconds, I think four different emotions cross her face as
she processes my admission. “Astor.” My name on her lips sounds like the
sweetest prayer my ears have ever heard. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to
repay you for this. I don’t know what else I have to offer you, but I’ll find a
way to make it up to you.”
When I put my plans in motion to make Indie mine, I only saw a
temporary arrangement in which I used her until I got my fill. I never could
have foreseen that I’d end up here, doing something as big as this simply
because I craved making her happy just as much as I craved her body.
Maybe more.
My original plan has gone off the rails and I need to decide soon what
I’m going to do moving forward. Do I lean into this new development, or
do I retreat before we’re both in too deep? The things I am wanting from
her now are ones I’ve always claimed I didn’t want from anyone, and I find
that discovery alarming.
“I don’t want anything in return this time,” I promise her. “You’ve
already given more than I ever expected from you.” Her mouth opens like
she wants to say more, but the horse moving in the stall drags her attention
away from me and our conversation. Which is probably for the best.
Pulling away from me, Indie shifts toward the barred stall door. Her
fingers tug at the sliding door lock warily. “I’m allowed to go in, right?”
“He’s your horse, baby. You can do whatever you want, but please do be
cautious. It took four people to get him into this stall and the vet had to
administer a mild sedative when he examined him this afternoon.”
“Did the vet clear him?”
“He’s severely malnourished and desperately needs to put weight on,
but he didn’t find any physical injuries other than a few scrapes. Those
probably came from fighting the handlers or other horses at the facility.”
Giuliana forwarded me pictures of what the inside of the auction house was
like. In each holding stall or pin, there was anywhere from four to eight
horses stuck inside. They were forced to stand the entire time as there was
very little room to lie down. “They drew blood, and they’ll check for any
infections or diseases he may have picked up. We should get those in the
next couple days. He recommended Jupiter remain quarantined away from
other horses for a while just as a precaution.”
The stallion’s entire body jerks when Indie slowly slides the door open.
“Hi, buddy,” Indie greets. “I’ve missed you so damn much.” She keeps her
voice low and her movements slow as she inches toward him. His black
ears perk up and the unease that’s been in his dark eyes since we arrived
lessens at the sight of his longtime companion. “I’m so sorry it took so long
to get you back.”
Jupiter shifts back a foot to create more distance between them, but
unwilling to give up yet, Indie gently lifts her hand out to him. His nostrils
flare as he breathes in her familiar scent and for a moment, I believe that
he’s going to come to her. That changes a split second later when the
stallion’s ears pin to his head and he rears up on his hind legs. In a flurry of
hooves and angry noises, he lunges at her.
I reach for her just in time. If I’d acted even a second later, she would
have been gravely injured because the furious horse comes down right
where she’d been standing. Yanking Indie out of the stall and safely behind
me, I slam the sliding door closed just as Jupiter charges toward us once
more.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
Indie’s eyes flick between me and Jupiter, her expression completely
horrified. “I knew he would need time to heal, but for some reason I didn’t
think it’d be this bad. He won’t let me anywhere near him. He doesn’t trust
me anymore.” The elation of their reunion is officially gone and concern
forms in its place.
“He’s traumatized. It’s just going to take time.” I try to reassure her
even though my own doubt is running rampant. It’s not an option, but the
side of me fueled by my newfound desire to keep her safe demands that I
order her to stay away from the animal. I know that wouldn’t work because
if someone asked that of me with my eagle, I’d fucking laugh in their face.
“You held his trust once, Indie. You’ll earn it again.”
Her hand scrubs her pale face and she paces in front of me. The smeared
makeup under her eyes can’t even fully conceal the dark circles forming,
but I wouldn’t need those to tell me how tired she is. I can see it in her eyes,
the vibrant energy that usually sits in them has dimmed. She needs rest.
“Let’s get you home so I can put you to bed. You need to sleep off this
day.”
Immediately, her head is shaking and her chin is lifting in stubbornness.
“No, not yet. I don’t want to leave him.”
“You can come back tomorrow or anytime you want. You have your
own access codes and key cards waiting for you at home, but you need to
sleep, and he needs time to acclimate to his new surroundings. Let him calm
down some before you try to work with him again.”
“Maybe we can stay just another hour,” she tries to bargain, as if I’m
someone who can be negotiated with. You’d think she’d understand that
about me by now.
“I apologize if I gave you the impression that this was up for further
discussion. So let me rephrase to clear up any confusion. We’re going home
so you can get some rest. You can either walk out of this barn on your own
two feet, or I will carry you out. Either way, you’re leaving right now.”
She stands there like she’s truly thinking over her options. Tired of
waiting, I shift forward and prepare to haul her over my shoulder, but she
retreats back multiple feet and holds her arm out like that will be enough to
keep me at bay.
“Fine,” Indie growls unhappily, the most adorable, pathetic scowl on her
face. “You win.”
“I always do.”
TWENTY-THREE
 ASTOR

SHE WASN’T at the house when I got home, which isn’t surprising since
every spare moment Indie now has in her already busy schedule is spent at
the barn. It’s been three weeks since Jupiter was returned to her, and for
most of those days, I’ve come home to an empty house. You’d think after
living alone for many years, I would be accustomed to the silence and
solitude. Instead, I find myself yearning to hear the soft music she listens to
when she studies or the sound of her laughing. The house is just too quiet
when she’s not there.
But mostly, I miss walking through the front door and being greeted
with her smile. In my life, there’ve been very few people who are genuinely
happy to see me enter a room. Indie is the exception. Even half asleep and
exhausted, a small smile forms on her lips in the morning when she first
rolls over and finds me there beside her.
When Indie moved into my house, my thought was that I’d be able to
preserve my own space and she’d be granted hers. Sharing a bed with her
never crossed my mind, but somewhere along the way, I stopped leaving
her bedroom after I ravaged her body at night. This change happened all on
its own and we’ve yet to acknowledge it. It’s just another sign that I may be
getting too close and accustomed to her presence.
 I keep telling myself that I need to do better, that I need to resolidify our
boundaries and stick to the original arrangement set forth between us, but
then I go and do dumb shit like this.
Indie keeps her phone on silent here so the sound of it doesn’t startle her
still unstable and unpredictable thoroughbred. It’s well past eleven at night
and all my calls have gone unanswered. This is the latest she’s ever stayed
at the barn, and that, coupled with the fact we were supposed to have dinner
together tonight, had me driving out here. I’m telling myself I’m only here
because I want to check on her wellbeing, and not for the other slightly
alarming reason—that I find myself craving her company.
Two weeks ago, she’d come home with cut-up hands and knees.
Apparently, Jupiter had charged at her again and she’d fallen when she tried
to get out of his way. Indie shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but that
didn’t stop me from requesting she only work with the horse when someone
else is present. These late nights when she’s the only one at the barn leave
her in a vulnerable position. If she were to get severely injured, it could be
hours before someone found her.
In a fashion true to Indie, she completely disregarded my suggestion
and said, “You’re cute.” Then she’d pressed a soft kiss on my mouth before
leaving for the day.
Horses turn their heads to look at me as I pass by their stalls on my way
to the very last one. The whole barn is quiet and there aren’t any signs of
Indie anywhere, but I know she’s still here because the car I’ve loaned her
is parked out front. I did eventually send someone back to collect hers, but
after truly inspecting that shit-box, I decided she wasn’t going to drive it
any longer. Her dashboard lights up like Christmas day when she turns on
the fucking thing, every sensor light shining bright.
Stopping at the stall, I observe the black horse inside. He’s put on some
weight already, but he still has a ways to go. His blood tests came back
clean, and his scrapes have all scabbed over. It’s his mental injuries that
now need tending most.
Not finding her at his stall, I’m about to go search the arena and the tack
room when her soft voice suddenly says my name.
“Astor?” It’s barely a whisper and it takes me a minute to figure out it’s
indeed coming from inside the stall.
Keeping my eyes on the hostile horse, I tentatively open the sliding door
and peek inside. Sure enough, Indie sits on the wood shaving-covered stall
floor with her back pressed against the wall. Her head lolls in my direction
and she gives me that smile I’ve been craving all day.
“Hi.”
I stay where I am, not daring to move any closer to the pair. It’d only
take one wrong move to spook the animal. “What the hell are you doing
down there?”
“I’m making Jupiter get used to me again,” she explains. “I’m hoping if
I keep this up, he’ll remember that I’m not a threat to him, and then he’ll
come to me. It’s too much for him when I approach him, so I’m putting the
ball in his court.” She rests her head back against the stall wall with a groan.
“And it’s so fucking boring.”
Her new tactic makes sense to me, but still I can’t help asking, “How
long have you been sitting there?”
Indie’s shoulder shrug. “Not sure, I left my phone in my bag, but I do
know that it’s been long enough for my ass to go numb.” She shifts in place,
a grimace forming on her face.
“It’s almost midnight, which means unless you plan on sleeping in
wood shavings like some kind of barnyard animal, it’s time for you to come
home with me.”
She looks at her horse for a second before sighing. “Yeah, you’re
probably right.”
“I know I am.”
 Through all of this, Indie hasn’t taken time off from teaching lessons,
and just last week, she had her midterm tests. There’re barely enough hours
in the day for everything she’s trying to accomplish, yet somehow, she’s
still managing to do it all. Tenacious little thing, she is.
With slow measured movements, Indie climbs up from the floor.
Jupiter’s dark, wary eyes watch her, and his body stiffens like he’s prepared
to act if she dares to come too close. She’s putting on a brave front, but his
new behavior is breaking her heart. I’ve offered to hire another trainer to
help work with him, but Indie is determined to do it herself with the
occasional help from Tessa. She doesn’t trust anyone else around him and I
can’t say I blame her.
Closing the stall door behind her, she turns her attention to me.
“Hi,” she greets again as if we hadn’t already exchanged pleasantries,
but I don’t mind since this time she accompanies her greeting with a soft
kiss.
“Hi,” I respond, matching her low whisper as her arms loop around my
neck in a loose embrace. Big amber eyes, the same color as my favorite
scotch, examine my face. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, but she seems
to find it because she leans in and kisses me again.
What starts off as a tender greeting quickly morphs into something else
entirely. It’s not surprising since Indie Riverton seems to have that effect on
me. My desire to have her—to take her until she calls my name and my
name only—started the first night Callan introduced her to me. With one
look, I knew I wanted to call her mine. That feeling has only amplified and
grown since our arrangement started. I expected that it would start to
diminish after a while, especially after she moved in with me. It is my
experience that too much time spent with someone is the quickest way to
grow tired of them. But that’s not the case with Indie. What we have now, it
still doesn’t feel like enough.
 My hands tighten on Indie’s delicate curves when her lips part for me
and her tongue glides against mine. She clings to me, nails digging and
scratching at my neck and shoulders as I devour her mouth. It only takes
one needy moan from her to have my cock aching for her. I just had her
pussy this morning, but the untamed need burning in my veins would make
you think otherwise.
Like a man starved for her touch—her body—I hold the back of her
thighs and lift her up to me. The heels of her leather riding boots dig into
my lower back and the extra inches I’ve granted her allow her to thread her
fingers through my hair. It’s something I’ve learned she loves to do, and I
find myself loving the slight pain when she tugs at the strands.
“I need you,” she pleads against my lips. “Fuck me.”
Moving us forward, I push her against the stone wall next to Jupiter’s
stall. Indie makes a small gasping sound when her back collides with the
rough surface. Using the wall to support some of her weight and keep her in
place, I release one of my hands from her thigh so I can collar her throat
with it. When we first started all of this, this act would have had a startled
look appearing on her face. Now, a devious smirk pulls on her swollen lips
and heat flames bright in her eyes.
I’ve trained my pretty girl well. She now craves my rough touch.
I apply enough pressure to get my point across, but not enough to hinder
her breathing. “You wouldn’t be giving me demands now, would you,
Indie?” I lean in close, running my nose along her jaw. “You must have
confused our roles because that’s not your job. It’s mine. I’m the only one
here giving the fucking orders.”
“Then give me some,” Indie growls in frustration. “Tell me what you
want from me. I’ll do whatever you ask as long as it ends with me coming
on your cock.”
In five seconds flat, an idea comes to me, and I know exactly what I
want from her tonight. “Get in the car and drive straight home. I will meet
you there shortly.”
Confusion crosses her lust-filled features. “You want me to leave? You
can’t be serious.”
“Aren’t I always?” I nip at her frowning bottom lip. “When I get home,
I want to find you naked and ready for me in my bed.”
“In your bed?” I haven’t yet granted her access to my domain, but I
suddenly yearn to smell her sweet scent on my sheets.
“Yes. Now go.” There’re a few things I need before I join her, and
luckily, I can find both of them in the tack room here. Everything else is
already at home waiting for us.
TWENTY-FOUR
 ASTOR

JUST LIKE I ASKED, I find Indie naked and lying across my bed on her
stomach. The only light in the room comes from the cracked bathroom door
and the blue light of the cell phone she’s on. When her eyes flick up from
the screen to find me standing in the doorway, the endearing way her feet
had been swaying about come to a halt and the relaxed atmosphere around
her evaporates into mist.
That’s right, pretty girl, I’m coming for you.
Stalking into the room at an unhurried, leisurely pace, I reflect over one
of our first real conversations. “I told you once that if you discovered what
motivates a person, you could train them to do anything. Do you remember
when I said that?”
With the faint light of her phone, I can see the way her lips part as she
takes a small inhale. “I remember.”
Pulling the blue and silver silk tie I found in my car out of my pocket, I
twist it around my fingers. “Have you discovered what motivates you,
Indie?”
“Yes,” she breathes. “You.”
Triumph. That’s the sensation that rockets through my body and right to
my hardening cock. Finally reaching the end of the bed, I reach out and
caress her jaw with my thumb. “That’s my good girl.” Her eyes flutter
closed and she leans into my touch, but I rip it away far too soon for her
liking. The pout she wears almost disappears entirely when I order, “Rise
up on your knees for me.”
Tossing her phone to the side, she gladly does what she’s asked. Nearly
eye level now, I can’t help leaning in for a brief but hungry kiss. Indie
returns it with as much passion and enthusiasm. I don’t believe either one of
us is ready for it to be over when I pull away from her.
“Close your eyes.”
She flinches when the silk first brushes against her face but relaxes a
second later when she realizes what I’m doing.
“Have you ever been blindfolded before?” I ask once I’m done securing
the tie over her eyes.
Her tongue sneaks out, wetting her bottom lip before she answers.
“No.”
My finger begins to trace a line from her chin down toward her belly
button. Her body shivers and a cascade of goosebumps erupt over her soft
skin. “Good. It’s another one of your firsts that I get to claim as my own.”
It’s as if I’m going down a list, marking each one off as I go and engraving
the memory of me into her brain.
Indie’s hips jerk forward when my fingers trail past her navel and
languidly over her pussy seam. Her hands flex at her sides like she’s
fighting the temptation to reach for me and further urge me to really touch
her. If she wants to touch me, now is her chance because soon she won’t be
able to. She won’t be able to do much of anything once I get her into the
position I want her in.
“Fuck,” she groans when I tease her opening.
“If I push my finger into you right now, will you be wet for me?”
Her head nods jerkily.
I add another finger and recreate the same motion as before. “Do you
promise?”
 “God, yes,” she hisses. “I’m always wet for you, Astor. You simply look
in my direction and I want you.”
She does precisely the same thing to me. Just a single thought of her can
have blood rushing to my cock. It happens during board and dinner
meetings, and for the rest of those monotonous gatherings I have to force
myself to focus on the task at hand and not her.
My fingers push into her and are instantly coated in her wetness, just
like I knew they’d be. “My girl is many things, but a liar isn’t one.” I pump
them inside of her, making sure to curl them forward to hit that spot inside
of her that makes her breath catch in her throat. Not able to resist any
longer, her hands reach for me. Her nails dig into my forearm as she
implores me to continue what I’m doing. “Sorry to disappoint you, but
you’re not getting off like this. I just need to get you desperately wet and
needy for me.”
She whimpers pathetically when I remove my fingers from her core.
“Taste how much your body wants me.” I drag my wet fingers over her
mouth, painting her lips with her own need. Not needing further prompting,
her tongue sweeps out and laps it up. The sight almost makes me snap and
throw my plan out the window. Turning her over and fucking her just like
this would be fun but I have so much more in mind.
I kiss her hard, sucking the remaining taste of her off her tongue in the
process. Her fingers cling to me and pull me to her so that her bare chest is
firmly pressed against me. I indulge this a minute longer before breaking
away from her once again.
“Astor, please.” Her beg is a sweet symphony to my ears.
“I want you on your stomach facing the headboard,” I instruct gruffly.
Her hands inch up toward the blindfold. Before she can reach it, my hands
ensnare her wrists and stop her. “That will be staying on until I say
otherwise. Understand?”
She nods her head once.
 “Good, now do as I say.”
Without a word, Indie turns away from me and lies gingerly on her
stomach. The sight of her perfect round ass has my palm itching to leave a
mark there. She’d look so good walking around with a bright red print of
my hand.
“Don’t move,” I warn darkly before leaving her there and walking into
the hall where I left the items I stole from the barn. If anyone notices
they’re missing, they can send me a fucking bill for all I care. With those in
hand, I stop at my dresser and remove the black box from the top drawer.
It’s a box she’d recognize if she were able to currently see.
Returning to Indie, her head turns in my direction as she follows the
sound of my movements. Without even touching her, her breathing comes
in short pants. The anticipation of what’s to come has already affected the
way she breathes, and that pleases me to no end.
My hands glide up the back of her smooth thighs and she jolts at my
light touch. “Keep your head and arms on the bed but lift up onto your
knees.” Not only will she look stunning in this position, but it’ll also grant
me unencumbered access to all of her. And that’s precisely what I want
from her. I want everything Indie Riverton has to offer, and I’ll take
whatever might remain.
She does as she’s told with her perfect ass now in the air for me, and I
help widen her stance until she’s right where I need her to be.
“Beautiful,” I praise. “Absolutely beautiful.”
My compliment is accompanied with my palm coming down on her ass
cheek. It’s not hard enough to cause unbearable pain, but it’s enough for a
perfect red outline of my hand to form. Tonight, I’m going to make her look
like my own personal art piece, and that mark is just the beginning of my
design.
Taking one of the pieces of rope I liberated from the barn, I walk to the
right side of the bed and loop it around her wrist. “Tonight, you’re going to
be completely at my mercy,” I warn, tightening the knot enough that she
can’t escape it but it also won’t dig painfully into her delicate skin. “How
does that sound to you? Do you want to be my plaything, Indie.”
Her response comes in a breathy moan. “Always.”
Using the red rope to manipulate her position, I bring her arm
backwards and tie the ends around her thigh. Satisfaction blooms at the
sight. She won’t be able to move her arms or her legs. She’ll be forced to
stay right how I want her. Moving to the other side of the bed, I repeat the
process.
Standing behind her, I take in the view of her perfectly displayed cunt.
The light from the bathroom and hallway cast just enough of a glow for me
to see everything.
Testing out the restraints, I drag my fingers through her slick heat,
stopping for only a second to circle her clit. Like I expected her to, her
muscles fight the ropes as her body reacts to my touch. Her hands,
desperate to grab onto something, yank helplessly against her thigh.
“You’re not going anywhere until I’m fucking done with you, baby,” I
explain sinisterly. “Like I said, you’re completely at my mercy. I’m going to
do whatever the fuck I want to you and you’re going to take it like the good
girl you are.”
She groans into the pristine white comforter beneath her.
I tease her opening, pushing just the tip of my finger inside before
retracting again. “Words, Indie. I want to hear your words.”
Indie inhales a shuddering breath. “You can do whatever you want.
please, just touch me.”
Giving her a little bit of reprieve, I sink two fingers into her aching
pussy. Indie twists her head as much as she can, giving me a hindered view
of her face. The satisfied smile she wears as I finger fuck her has my
hardening cock twitching in my slacks.
“Whatever I want, you say? Okay, baby, let’s play.”
 With restricted movements, she grinds against my fingers the best she
can. The softest whimper-like moans come from her throat, each one
fueling the fire blazing in my veins. The hold this woman has on me is
unmatched. I’m not sure that I’ll ever find someone who makes me burn
like she does. And I’m not sure if I want to find someone else. No, I’m
fairly certain I’ve met my match. Now I just need to decide what I’m going
to do about it.
Wanting to send her over with my tongue, I drop to my knees behind
her and bury my face in her cunt. At the first languid swipe of my tongue
through her seam, her entire body jolts as if she’d been struck by lightning.
“Oh, fuck,” she cries. “More, Astor. Please.”
Her head twists and turns against the comforter, my unrelenting tongue
causing an extreme case of restlessness. I have no doubt that if she were
able to move more, that she’d be thrashing all over the bed.
“You’re fucking delicious.” I once vowed I was going to eat her whole,
and I lick and bite at her like a starved man consuming a decadent meal.
A strangled sound erupts from her, bouncing off the walls and further
feeding my famished beast as she comes on my tongue. As she shudders
and shakes, riding wave after wave of bliss that rockets through her nerves,
I don’t let up. I lap at her pussy until her cries quiet, and all that remains are
the soft spasms of her aftershock.
When her muscles relax and she sags the best she can into the bed, I
drag my tongue up toward the virgin hole we’ve been preparing to take my
cock. We’ve gradually increased the size of the plugs, and she’s finally
ready for me.
The relaxed state she was in just a second ago shifts and she jerks in
surprise.
“You said I could do anything I wanted, and I want to fuck this tight ass
with my fat cock.” Driving my point home, I drag my tongue over the ring
of muscle once more before standing from my kneeling position.
 Picking up the black box that holds the largest of the three plugs I’ve
used on her, I take it out and grab the bottle of lube. Indie’s gotten more
relaxed about this than she was the first time she experienced it. I can tell
by the way her muscles tighten and her breathing becomes ragged that the
unknown still makes her timid, but my brave girl never backs down from a
challenge.
The clear lube drips down the crack of her ass and I catch it before it
dribbles on the bed. Swiping it up with my finger, I drag it over her tight
hole and thoroughly coat it inside and out. The second her muscles loosen
and my finger slips inside, she moans at the small invasion. The unknown
may be unsettling, but it sure as fuck feels good.
I remove my fingers and replace it with the silver plug. She pants into
the bed, her restrained hands twist at her sides as her fingers curl into fists.
“Breathe and let it in,” I encourage, increasing the pressure as it reaches
the widest point. After another second of resistance, the plug slips perfectly
into place and she relaxes once more. My thumb pushes at the base, and she
groans. “Such a good girl. You’re going to take my cock so well, aren’t
you?”
“Oh, god. Yes.”
Continuing to press on the plug, I bring my other hand down on her ass.
Leaving a mark identical to the one on the other side. She hisses out a
breath, but her lips pull in a delighted smile. “You like a little pain with
your pleasure, pretty girl?”
“I think …” Indie trails off like she’s having trouble remembering her
words. “I think I just like whatever you do to me.”
My fingers curl around the other item I’d taken from the barn. I chose
this riding crop because it has the smoothest leather and looked absolutely
pristine, like it hadn’t yet been used. Indie twitches, not expecting to feel
the end of it run up her inner thigh.
 “You like anything I do to you?” I repeat, moving the crop over her
handprint-marked ass and then up her spine. “Let’s test that theory, why
don’t we?”
The smack of the crop hitting her skin is glorious and the pink flush that
forms on her flesh afterward is an addictive sight. But the real intoxicating
part of it is the sound that comes from Indie. A cross between a cry and a
deprived moan.
“What about this?” The crop comes down on her right ass cheek. I’m
mindful to keep the pressure right. I want it to sting and enhance her
pleasure, not to wound her or cause her true pain. “Do you like this? Do you
want more?”
Smack!
“Yes. More,” she cries, her back arching as far as her restraints will
allow her.
“Okay, baby, I’ll give you more.” She’s not expecting it and even if I’d
warned her properly, I don’t think anything could have prepared her for the
sensation of the crop flicking across her clit.
“Fuck!” Indie all but screams.
I repeat the action and this time it causes her to fight her restraints. Her
raised hips sway as if she can’t decide if she wants to lean into the crop or
shy away from it.
“Do you think you could come from this?” My sinister question is
accompanied with another steady blow to her cunt. “Shall I continue so we
can find out?”
Her reply isn’t incoherent, it’s an animalistic like mewl.
Alternating between lighter and harsher hits, the crop smacks up against
her clit over and over again. I do this until her wetness is dripping down her
inner thighs, and her head has thrashed about so much her blindfold has
lifted to her forehead.
 “Oh my god,” she sobs, body shaking uncontrollably. “I’m … I’m going
to come. Astor!”
Indie screams so loud as she comes, I’m thankful my neighbors aren’t
too close. No doubt the police would be called. Her body goes rigid, and
she strains against the red rope tied around her wrists. While she withers
and cries through her release, I hastily remove all articles of clothing so I
can be deep inside of her as soon as possible.
She makes a choked sound when my fingers brush through her overly
sensitive seam, wiping up her wetness in the process. Wrapping my hand
around my aching cock, I stroke myself and spread her cream over the
entire length. My teeth clench and my hips rock into my touch as I do. The
sight of her tied up and screaming for me was nearly enough to send me
over the edge.
Positioning myself behind her tied-up frame, I examine her face. Eyes
now visible from the misplaced blindfold lock with mine. Exhaustion is
already setting in them, but that simply won’t do.
“I’m not done with you yet,” I warn, the tip of my cock spearing
through her drenched pussy lips. “Not even close, baby.”
Her lips part in a silent cry as I plunge into her swollen cunt in one deep
unforgiving thrust. My own breath is momentarily stolen from me as I’m
overtaken by the feeling of being buried completely inside her. Her walls
tighten like a vice around me, and for a second, I worry that I’m going to
come right then and there.
Fingers digging into her hips, I regain my composure and control.
“So full,” she groans into the bedding.
This is the first time I’ve fucked her while she wears the larger plug,
and her pussy has never felt tighter. “I’m sure you fucking are,” I grit
between clenched teeth. “But you can take it.”
“I can take it,” she repeats, whether she’s agreeing with me or simply
reminding herself is unclear and unimportant.
 My thrusts are brutal and unrelenting, but she never asks me to slow
down or ease up. Her desperate cries and mewls of need only encourage me
to maintain my pace. There’s not a chance she won’t be sore tomorrow from
my rough treatment of her, but it’ll be in the most delicious way. Her
muscles will ache with the memory of me.
Writhing beneath me, her breaths become labored, and the walls of her
cunt begin to flutter. She can come, but I want her to do it when I’m balls-
deep in her ass.
The airy gasp when I remove the silver plug is a glorious sound, and
I’m tempted to reinsert the plug just so I can force it out of her again.
“Who does this pussy belong to?” I grit out, slamming into her once
more.
“You. Only you.”
Withdrawing from her dripping cunt, I press the swollen head of my
cock at her virgin hole. She’s dangling so close to the edge that she doesn’t
squirm or tense up when I apply light pressure. Indie’s ready for me. “And
this tight ass? Who is this about to belong to?”
I push forward, invading her just an inch or so, but the move has her
pulling in a rush of oxygen.
As she exhales, she gives me the answer I yearn to hear. “You, it’ll
belong to you.”
My hand runs soothingly up her spine, her flesh is warm and covered in
a thin layer of sweat. “Push out as I push in. You’re going to take all of
me.”
She whimpers as I sink deeper into her, her hips instinctually trying to
retreat from the overwhelming amount of pressure.
“Shh, baby,” I whisper, ignoring the ill-advised impulse to ram
completely inside her. “Relax for me, and let me in.”
After a moment of calming breaths, Indie does as she’s instructed. Her
muscles stop fighting the intrusion and she pushes back into me.
 “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter than this,” I growl,
eyes locked on the sight of my dick slowly disappearing into her ass.
“You’re doing so good, Indie. Taking my entire cock like this.”
When I’m fully sheathed, we’re both breathing hard and the blood
flowing in my veins feels like it’s boiling. The flames of need I carry for her
are now as powerful as a forest wildfire.
I stay fully seated, allowing her to grow accustomed to my girth, and
within a few minutes, she grows restless beneath me.
“Are you ready?”
Her head nods wildly. “Jesus, just fucking move already.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her small demand. “You’re a little whore for
my cock, aren’t you, pretty girl.”
A degrading term should have the opposite effect on someone. She
should be offended, but instead she simply moans in agreement and tilts her
hips back to meet my shallow thrusts.
Our slow measured movements slowly increase and grow as her body
full adjusts to me. Soon, I’m withdrawing nearly all the way before
plunging back inside. She squirms and strains against the ropes, trying
desperately to find ways to further her pleasure. I don’t even have to ask
what it is that she needs.
Leaving one hand on her hip, I reach between our connected bodies
with the other to find her clit. The second I begin massaging slow
methodical circles, it’s like she’s taken over. Sounds that are comparable to
sobs come from her lips and her hips do their best grind against my touch.
My own release is barreling toward me at an alarming rate. For the third
time tonight, Indie’s orgasm rips through her, and moments later, I follow
her into euphoric oblivion, her ass milking every drop of cum out of me.
TWENTY-FIVE
 ASTOR

IT WASN’T my plan to stop at the office on my way home from the dinner
meeting, but Cheska, my assistant, called and reminded me of an important
file I will need for tomorrow’s early seminar. If it wasn’t being hosted off
campus, I wouldn’t worry about grabbing it tonight. It’s just one more thing
delaying me from returning home.
Returning to her.
She has a late private lesson tonight with one of her young riders, but no
doubt she’s already home and waiting for my return. My cock stiffens in my
slacks as ideas of what I’m going to do to her tonight consume my thoughts.
The elevator stops on my floor, and I step out. The only lights on are the
emergency ones that always remain on, and there’s not a single sound
besides my footfalls as I walk down the hallway that leads to my large
corner office.
My hand wraps around the keys in my pocket but stop when I find my
door already open and light casting into the semi-dark hallway.
Where someone else might be concerned over such a sight, I only feel
irritation. It’s a fact well known by my colleagues that my office is not a
place for them to venture into. Not even Cheska will enter my office
without me present and she’s been my assistant for the better part of five
years. My own son won’t do it as it’s a lesson that’s been ingrained in his
brain since childhood.
Whoever has entered my office isn’t afraid of my wrath, it would seem.
Teeth clenched, I push the door open wider and enter the lit office.
My annoyance only grows when I lock eyes with the person sitting in
my chair with their feet on my desk.
“Mr. Blackwell—or is it Wilde now? I’m afraid I can’t keep it straight
since it keeps changing,” I greet tightly. “Are you lost?”
The soft light of the phone he stares at illuminates his bitter grin. “Wilde
is fine and nope. You’re just the man I wanted to see.” His cold blue eyes
flick in my direction briefly before the device in his hand recaptures his
attention. “A little birdy told me that you’d be stopping by tonight, so I
thought I’d wait here for you to show up. Took you long enough. Naturally,
I was so bored I had to poke around your files a little bit. Hope you don’t
mind.”
“Naturally,” I repeat, completely unamused. “Find anything
interesting?”
He laughs darkly, a sound devoid of any true humor. “Nothing I didn’t
already know, but then again, there’s not much I don’t know. Is there?”
Sighing, he stuffs the phone into the front pocket of his ripped and faded
jeans. This kid has more money than most people will see in their lifetime,
but he can’t be bothered to purchase new jeans or tie the laces of his scuffed
leather boots. “Though, I did learn something new last week that captured
my interest.”
“Is that so?” I lean against the doorjamb, arms crossing. “Who’s the
unlucky soul that traded you for this information?”
It’s no secret to me what kind of business he runs. I allow him to
continue with his underground dealings on my campus with the
understanding that if I’m ever in need of information, he’ll give it to me
free of charge. It’s a deal that’s worked well for me in the past.
 His feet finally drop off my desk. He sits forward in my chair, arms
resting on his knees, looking completely at ease in a space that isn’t his to
command.
“You really should vet your staff better, Banes. Could have protected
yourself from something like this happening.” Arrogance all but pours from
his lips as he talks. “A redhead with an expensive nose candy habit came to
me for a loan when she couldn’t afford to pay her dealer. I offered a couple
different payment plans to this … Chelsea? … bitch, but when she said she
had some information about her boss, I was intrigued. And when she
coughed up the information, I was fucking ecstatic.”
Cheska? What the fuck does she know?
“What do you think you know, Wilde?”
“I don’t think I know anything,” he corrects. “You should know by now
that when information is brought to me, I complete my due diligence and
fact check the fuck out of it.”
“Spit whatever the hell you have to say out, Rafferty. I have places to be
and people I’d much rather spend my time with.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” He’s a cocky son of a bitch, has been since he
was in high school. He and Callan attended the same private school for a
couple years when Rafferty transferred out right before his senior year. “A
sweet little thing by the name of Indie Riverton, if I’m not mistaken.”
The sound of Indie’s name on his lips has my spine snapping straight
and anger pooling in my stomach. “You have no idea what you’re talking
about.”
His icy eyes meet mine, and as if we’re having a battle of the wills,
neither one of us looks away. Both of us waiting for the other to break.
After a minute, Rafferty’s mouth pulls in a wicked smile, and he sits
back in the leather rolling chair. “Here’s the deal, Banes. I know about your
dealings with Indie. I know what you did to keep her on this campus after
she lost her scholarship and I know exactly what she’s paying you in return.
Like I said, you should really vet your staff. Your assistant is hot, but she’s
got a mouth on her the size of Texas and likes to listen to your private
meetings through your door. Consider yourself lucky that I’m the one with
this information. In the wrong hands, it could be really bad for you.”
Still doubtful, I ask, “What kind of proof could you possibly have?”
“Well, there’s the large sum of money you’re paying your own college
for her tuition,” he shocks me by saying. “What? You thought by having the
payment come from a bogus shell account that it couldn’t be tracked back
to you.” His head cocks, dark brown hair falling on his forehead. “Does
Indie know that you didn’t actually get her scholarship back for her, or is
that another one of your dirty little secrets?”
The strings that I could pull were just enough to keep her enrolled in
Olympic Sound. There are strict rules regarding our merit scholarships, and
once she had that mark on her record, there was no way she could become
eligible for it again.
Grinding my teeth, I close the door before stalking across the room.
“Cut to the chase, Rafferty. What do you want to make this information
disappear?”
If it got out that I was involved in an intimate relationship with a
student, it wouldn’t be ideal, but it’s a scandal I could easily overcome. It’d
be even easier to do if there were plans to transition the relationship into a
more serious and permanent arrangement like marriage. But if the unsavory
details of our relationship were revealed, I’m not convinced that’s
something I could overcome without much difficulty. Coercing a student
into a sexual arrangement in exchange for sexual favors isn’t something
people will willingly look past. My last name and social status couldn’t
protect me from that level of scrutiny.
“It’s simple really.” The Rafferty that I knew when he was in high
school had a darkness around him, but at the time, there was still a glimmer
of light in his eyes and smile. He had moments where he was happy. The
Rafferty that sits in front of me now has fully succumbed to the pitch-black
darkness. He’s consumed by it and I’m not sure he remembers the meaning
of the word happy. “In the coming months, a student by the name of Posie
Davenport will be requesting to transfer here next year. I need you to ensure
she’s accepted and given a tuition rate so low she can’t refuse the offer.”
Posie Davenport.
I recognize the name immediately, but he knew I would.
My head shakes in disbelief at him. “After all these years, you still can’t
move on. You’re still not at peace with what happened, are you?”
Rafferty stands from my desk and takes the time to push in the chair.
His face is completely devoid of any emotion as he comes to a stop in front
of me. “Whatever peace I had, she stole from me five years ago and now I
intend to do the same to her.” His hand claps down on my shoulder. “I’m
going to ruin her, and unless you want word to get out about your
extracurriculars, you’re going to help me get her here.”
TWENTY-SIX
 INDIE

THE UNTHINKABLE IS HAPPENING. I’m falling for him. Hard. It’s not
a pretty and graceful fall either. I’m crashing and spinning out of control as
I descend into the alluring depths of Astor Banes. The relationship that
started off as nothing more than a tit-for-tat scenario is morphing into
something I don’t think I’ll be able to let go of so easily.
Walking away from him and going on with my life like I haven’t been
fully consumed by him seems like an impossibility. It breaks my heart
thinking that it’ll be an easy task for Astor. He’ll go on like I was never
there. In the grand scheme of his existence, I’m sure my time with him was
just a blip. And while I can’t confirm if any of this is truthfully how he
feels, he hasn’t given me any indication to think otherwise.
I know the logistics of making us work are muddy and difficult, but I
want to try. The problem now is I have no fucking clue how to have this
conversation with Astor. How do I ask him for more when I’m not sure he
has it in him to do so? What if this is it? What if he’s not capable of
committing to something more real or permanent? What if eight months is
all I get with him?
The feel of Jupiter’s lead rope in my hand takes me back to that night
two weeks ago when Astor tied me up and made me experience so many
sensations. I thought I was going to dissolve into a pile of ash on his
comforter. Countless memorable things occurred that night, but why is the
fact that he insisted we sleep in his bed that night the one I’m clinging to?
Before then, I wasn’t ever allowed in there and he only slept with me in
the guest room. I haven’t slept in my bed once since that night. He even
moved my toiletries into his bathroom. The sensation of playing house is
only growing by the day and so is my comfortability with it all. With him.
We’ve moved so far past causal sex, it’s not even in our rearview mirror
anymore. We’re driving at top-speed toward something else entirely and I
can’t help but worry it’s a ravine full of heartbreak.
Jupiter allows me to lead him back to his stall after I’ve spent the last
hour lunging him in the round pin. I cried tears of joy last week when he
allowed me to put a halter on him, and then I cried even harder when he let
me lead him around the arena. We’re slowly inching back to normalcy.
Tessa, who’d been here last week, hugged and cried with me when we
had our massive breakthrough. She told me that my dad would be proud of
me, which only made me cry harder. He spent years training this horse; I’m
simply refreshing the things he instilled in Jupiter. Countless hours I sat and
watched him work with his horses. I’m hoping that his methods somehow
rubbed off on me and I can get Jupiter to the horse he once was. Back to the
horse my father left to me.
Tessa asked when I thought I’d be able to get Jupiter back to jumping,
and I kind of laughed at that. Getting back into events is the last thing on
my mind. All I want right now is for my horse to trust me and for the
trauma clouding him to ease up. He needs time to heal, and I’ll give him as
much time as he needs. If he’s never ready to compete again, I’ll be fine
with that.
Once in the stall, I reach up for the leather halter he wears. Astor
surprised me one morning with the brand-new tack. He’d left the expensive
gifts in the kitchen for me to find, and when I’d tried to thank him for it,
he’d acted so casually about the whole thing. He’d waved me off like it was
nothing.
My lips twitch at the engraved gold nameplate on the halter. It proves
that it wasn’t nothing. If it wasn’t a big deal, he wouldn’t have gone through
the trouble of engraving Jupiter’s name on it.
My heart lurches in my throat when Jupiter’s head lowers to help me
reach the halter. It was something he’d always innately done but hasn’t once
since he’s been back. Everyday we’re making progress and I couldn’t ask
for more.
“Good boy,” I praise softly, fingers brushing against the side of his
neck. “You’re doing so good. Thank you for not giving up on me entirely.”
Wanting to reward him for his bravery today during our lessons, I turn
to leave the stall to grab a handful of alfalfa pellets from the bag outside the
door. I thought I’d kept my movements slow and steady enough to not
spook him, but the second my back is to him Jupiter’s entire demeanor
changes. His front hoof paws at the floor and angry breaths repeatedly come
from him.
“Whoa, buddy.” Turning back to him, I try to soothe him, but my efforts
only make it worse. His rises on his hind legs and flails his front legs about.
In the past, I’ve immediately left his stall and allowed him his space. He’s
done so well the past week or so that I decide to see what happens if I stick
around.
Arms raised and voice soft, I inch closer to the agitated animal. “Shh,
Jupiter. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
He crashes back to the ground in front of me with a furious whinny.
What’s confusing is he’s not paying me any attention. Whatever has set him
off this time isn’t me as his focus is on something else entirely.
“What is it?” Curious, I begin to turn around to search for the source of
his distress, but I never get the chance to discover what it is because from
the corner of my eye I see something barreling toward my head. There isn’t
enough time to duck out of the way or cry out. The blow to the side of my
head almost instantly steals my ability to stay standing and my vision
darkens. I don’t feel myself land on the wood shaving-covered floor, but a
second later when my vision clears, I find myself looking up at Jupiter.
My lips part to yell for help, but I can’t force myself to form a single
word. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if I even remember how to
speak. My vision tilts and no matter how much my eyes blink in an effort to
clear it, it continues to get worse. I’m going to pass out. The cold, numb-
like sensation is slowly working its way through my body, and I know once
it’s thoroughly spread, I’ll be met with darkness.
Oh my god, somebody help me.
The last thing I hear before I succumb to the serene nothingness are the
sounds of Jupiter’s distress and footsteps retreating.
TWENTY-SEVEN
 ASTOR

THE PRESTIGIOUS BUSINESSMAN sitting across from me donated

enough money last year for there to be a complete overhaul of the
Performing Arts Department. That is the only reason I’m still sitting across
from him, pretending I give a shit about his wife’s short career on
Broadway. I’ve politely nodded along, milking the one scotch I allow
myself at these monotonous dinner meetings. It’s meetings like these, the
ones where I have to schmooze and rub elbows with people so they’ll
continue to donate to my school, that make me question how I’m not a
raging alcoholic. With a bit more booze, I might actually find these people
the slightest bit interesting.
I’d much rather be at home with Indie. At least the things that come out
of her mouth can hold my attention. And frankly, she’s my favorite person
to be around. Everyone else pales in comparison to my girl.
Indie knew I had this meeting tonight and planned on staying late at the
barn. She’s kept me updated with the progress she’s made with Jupiter and
I’m exceedingly proud of her. Her dedication to that horse is unmatched.
My cell buzzes in the pocket of my black sports coat and I briefly cut in
on the mind-numbingly boring story. “Excuse me.”
Looking down, I hope to see her name lit up across my screen, but
instead I find Callan’s. He was in New York again earlier this week, but I
believe he’s back now. We’d talked briefly about getting together for dinner
or a drink. Knowing he’ll understand that I can’t talk right now, I reject his
call and reluctantly return my attention to the man across the table from
me.
“Sorry about that. Please continue.” And hurry the fuck up with this
story.
Not needing to be asked twice apparently, he does just that. “She was
the understudy in that production, but unfortunately she never got to take
the stage as the lead.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. She was only an understudy? Why are we still
having this conversation?
“Truly unfortunate indeed,” I contribute politely, taking another pull of
my scotch.
Continuing with his charming tale, my phone buzzes once more in my
pocket. I nod along, pretending to listen as I check the device. Callan.
Again. He never calls me like this. Even when he was fourteen years old
and was left home alone for the first time, he didn’t call me this much.
A shiver of alarm snakes down my spine.
“I do apologize, but I need to take this. It’s my son.” I don’t wait for my
dinner companion to answer before I excuse myself from the table and walk
toward the front doors of the restaurant.
“Callan?” I question, accepting the call once I step outside.
“Dad!” One word, one syllable, that’s all it takes for me to know
something is terribly wrong. “Dad! Can you hear me? The reception is
horrible in this place.”
“I can hear you. What happened?”
A fear like I’ve never known seizes my chest at his next sentence.
Before he’s even finished explaining, I’m running toward the parking
garage where I left my car. All concern and thoughts for my dinner meeting
leave me instantly. I’ll call the restaurant later and pay the bill.
 “It’s Indie. She’s been hurt,” my son explains in a rush. “Someone
found her in a barn unconscious.” He goes on to explain that it’s some kind
of head injury and that she’s still not responsive, but I’m not really listening
anymore. A coldness is working its way through my veins and a humming
has started in my ears. “Where is she? What hospital was she taken to?”
When he doesn’t answer fast enough for my liking, I impatiently snap his
name. “Callan! Fucking answer me.”

THE AUTOMATIC GLASS DOORS OPEN, and I’m instantly greeted by

the cold air conditioning and the scent of antiseptic. I broke every traffic
law that exists on the way here, and honestly, I’m lucky that no one was
hurt by my reckless driving. The poor valet outside the hospital barely had
time to catch my keys when I tossed them at him before rushing inside.
Not feeling overly inclined to wait patiently, I push past the loitering
people by the front desk. The woman in pale pink scrubs glowers at me as
my palms come down harshly on the desk she sits at.
“Sir, you’ll need to wait your—”
“Indie Riverton,” I bark, cutting the woman off. “She was brought in
with a head injury. I need to know where she is.”
A hand touches my shoulder, and a voice comes from behind me. “Hey
buddy, in case you missed it, there’s a line here.”
My fingers lock around the stranger’s wrist. In one second, I’ve turned
to face him and I’m twisting his arm violently in the wrong direction. “I
don’t give a fuck about some line.” I have two rules; I don’t search people
out and I don’t wait in lines. “And you should think twice about laying your
hands on people you don’t know. You truly never know what someone is
capable of doing.”
 For fifteen years, I’ve been removed from the family and the teachings
that were instilled in me. I was taught to act first—usually violently—and
deal with the fallout afterward. It’s taken me a long time to learn how to
thoroughly think over and be meticulous with my actions. These days, I
plan everything down to the last variable.
But apparently all it takes for me to revert to my old ways is being kept
from Indie. Getting blood on my hands once more doesn’t seem so bad if it
means that I’m reunited with her.
“Dad,” Callan’s voice echoes through the vast hospital waiting area and
has me automatically releasing the patron in my grasp. Leaving him and the
godforsaken line behind me, I stalk in the direction of my son and the nurse
that walks with him.
“Where is she?” I question before either one of them has a chance to
attempt polite pleasantries or greetings. “What’s her status?” Pausing, I
stare at my son. “And why were you called?”
Callan’s broad shoulders shrug. “I guess Indie put me down as her
emergency contact when she registered for fall classes. Which makes sense
since she didn’t really have anyone else in her life she could have added.
They saw her student ID in her wallet when they searched it in the
ambulance. They called the school, and it was my number they had on file.
She probably forgot to change it after we broke up.”
What he’s saying makes sense, though I can’t help but be agitated that I
wasn’t called. Why would she add you as a contact, Astor? It’s not as if
you’re in a real relationship. On paper, you’re nothing more than Indie’s
roommate. The unwanted thought has me scrubbing a hand over my jaw as
regret settles in my bones.
“You didn’t answer me before. How is she?” I ask, dropping my hand
back to my side.
Callan’s blue eyes, ones that look so much like his mother’s at times,
slide to the grandmotherly woman at his side. “They won’t tell me anything
other than what I told you on the phone. They’re saying since she’s still
unconscious and can’t consent to more information being shared, they can’t
disclose more.”
“You understand we have to protect our patient’s privacy.” The nurse
adds in, voice dripping with practiced politeness. “And there’s the matter of
you not being family.”
“She doesn’t have any family.” I don’t know why it only dawns on me
right here and now how truly alone Indie is. Her mother has completely
abandoned her in this world and has morphed into an enemy. All she has
left is Jupiter and … me. “She only has me, and I want to see her. Right
fucking now.”
I’m long past caring if Callan knows the truth and I don’t bother
mincing my words in front of him. This isn’t the ideal way for him to find
out what’s been going on under my roof, but my priority right now is her.
She’s the injured one. I can deal with the consequences of my actions with
Callan at a later time.
The woman bristles. “Sir, if you could refrain from using such language.
This is a place of healing.” Her small, beady eyes dart around our
surroundings and to the waiting patients. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you more.
We will have to wait for Miss Riverton to regain consciousness and go from
there.”
Her answer is completely unacceptable to me. I’m this close to blowing
past her and searching for Indie room by room when an alternative idea
comes to me. “I need to see Elijah Hill right now.”
“The general surgeon?” she questions, brows raising.
He’s also a hospital board member. We’ve crossed paths many times at
functions and fundraisers. He became a donor for Olympic Sound when his
daughter Zadie was accepted last fall. It’s moments like these that I realize
just how valuable those boring dinners truly are.
“Yes. Page him immediately.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
 ASTOR

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, I’m getting exactly what I want. Elijah

pulled the necessary strings, and he’s now leading me and Callan up to her
room in the neurology department. The same nurse has accompanied us the
entire way and her disapproving look isn’t having the effect she thinks it is.
If she’s trying to shame me or make me feel guilty for abusing my
privileges, I’m afraid she’s wasting her time. I will not feel guilt or shame,
not when it’s granted me access to Indie.
It's as if I won’t be able to breathe property until I lay my own eyes on
her.
Elijah stops at an open hospital room door and gestures his hand at it.
“After you, Mr. Banes.”
Not needing to be told twice, I march through the door. I thought seeing
her would help me breathe, but seeing her slight frame in a hospital bed,
connected to machines and IVs, only causes my chest to tighten
exponentially more.
Her skin is pale, and bruising has already started to form around her
eyes from the injury to her head. Clear tubing sits under her nose,
supplementing her with additional oxygen. It’s a relief to see they didn’t
have to intubate her.
 “Whatever hit her in the head caused a brain bleed,” Elijah explains,
having looked over her file on his iPad on the way up here. She’s not his
patient nor is the brain his specialty, but he insisted on being the one to
walk me through what’s happened. I’m not overly picky about who gives
me the information as long as someone does. “They suspect she’d been
injured an hour prior to when she was found in the horse stall.”
She was alone and hurt for over an hour? My god.
“The horse stall?” I repeat.
He looks at the nurse for confirmation, and at her slight nod, he
reiterates the findings. “The working theory right now is the horse acted out
and she simply got in its way. The first responders who were called had
trouble working around the distressed animal. One of the paramedics nearly
got kicked in the abdomen.”
The visual of Jupiter rearing back and front legs flailing about that night
in the barn comes to mind. “This was my fear. I told her this could happen.”
I barely recognize my own voice, there’s an unease to it I haven’t heard
since my mother was dying. “What’s the plan now? Do we just wait to see
if the bleed heals on its own?”
“They’ve taken her for a CT scan, and the bleeding is minimal enough
for now that they’ve elected to wait on surgery. They’ve administered
medications to help with the swelling and now we just wait to see if those
work. If the blood doesn’t clear on its own, they will need to operate to
drain it.”
“Jesus,” Callan breathes out next to me.
“All things considered, she’s lucky. The bleeding could be much worse,
but many patients in her condition just need the meds and to be monitored.
They usually make full recoveries.”
My head nods once in understanding before I return my attention to the
unconscious woman in the bed. I’m disappointed in myself. Disappointed
that I didn’t push her harder to stay away from that dangerous horse and
disappointed that it’s taken something as drastic as this for me to fully
realize what Indie means to me. I’m not ready to let her go.
“Alright, just talk to the nurses at the desk if you need me for any
reason,” Elijah offers before leaving the room.
I move closer to the side of the bed while Callan asks the nurse, “Are
we allowed to stay in here?”
“Seeing as you’ve already gone over my head once, it seems fairly
pointless telling you no again, doesn’t it?”
Callan’s eyes slide over the woman, the unimpressed look that all Banes
men master before the age of five on his face. “I’m glad to see we’re finally
on the same page.”
With an unamused scoff, the nurse stomps out the door.
My muscles feel uneasy as I lower myself into the chair next to the bed.
If it weren’t for the beeping heart monitor or tubing connected to her, she’d
look just like she does in the morning when I wake up beside her. That
peaceful, calming air still surrounds her now, but it’s doing little to soothe
my own agony.
Not caring if Callan sees me do it, I take her small pale hand in mine.
Her fingers are icy compared to my heated skin. “She’s freezing,” I
comment aloud. “We need to get her another blanket or turn up the heat in
here.”
“Okay,” Callan agrees, voice low. “I’ll go let someone know.” He
makes his way toward the closed door and pauses with his hand on the door
handle. “Hey, Dad?”
“Yes?” My eyes flick in his direction and I find a serious look on his
face.
“It’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.” A small reassuring smile
pulls on the corner of his lips. “You both will.”
All I can think as he leaves the room is, God, I fucking hope so.
AN HOUR LATER, I sit in the same place staring at her pretty face while
silently pleading for her to wake up. Callan has stayed with me even though
I’ve told him he can leave and I’d call him with any updates, but he insists
on being here for me. He stepped out of the room about five minutes ago to
find us coffee that doesn’t come out of a vending machine. He mentioned
something about snacks too, but I’m the farthest thing from hungry.
Leaning forward, I brush the short strands of her hair off her face. “I
need you to wake up, pretty girl,” my voice is just barely an audible
murmur. “I need to see those eyes of yours again. I just need …” I trail off,
head shaking. “Fuck, Indie, I just need you.”
With my elbows on the edge of the bed, I close my eyes and rest my
forehead against my clasped hands. It’s taking everything in me to not get
up and pace the short length of this room. But I refuse to get up from this
chair unless I have to. I want to be right here and the first thing she sees
when she wakes up.
I don’t know how long I sit like this with thoughts of what our lives will
look like moving forward swirling in my head. One thing is certain, our
arrangement will need to be abolished. It was based solely on sex and
greed, and those two things are no longer the driving forces for my affection
toward her. I’ve evolved so far past that.
The question now is, without the arrangement in place, will she choose
to stay?
Moving forward, there won’t be any coercion or manipulation forcing
her here. If she wants to remain with me, it must be her choice this time.
And if she elects to leave, I will need to find a way to let her, even when
every fiber of my being is screaming at me to find a way to permanently
tether her to me.
 Cold fingertips tracing down my forearm pull me away from my
thoughts and have my head lifting. My eyes instantly clash with a pair of
bright amber ones, and in a second, a thousand pounds of relief crash down
on me.
“Astor.”
My name on her lips is a soft, breathy whisper, but it will forever be my
most treasured sound. It’ll repeat in my head for many years to come.
“Pretty girl.” I intertwine my fingers through hers and hold on for dear
life. “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Her lips pull in a smile and she instantly winces. “My … head.”
My head turns toward the exit, hoping I’ll see a nurse or someone walk
by the door Callan left open when he left. “I know, baby. We’ve got you,
though. Don’t worry.”
She tries to nod in understanding, but the movement instantly causes her
pain.
“Try not to move,” I urge, cupping her face as gently as I can. Not
listening to my warning, she turns her head into my touch like she’s seeking
out any source of comfort.
Big tears well in her eyes as she stares at me. “I’m really glad you’re
here with me.”
“Where else would I possibly be? There isn’t a single place I’d rather be
than right here with you.” It’s amazing how easy it is to speak the truth once
you finally accept it.
“Really?” she whispers hoarsely.
“Really.” I bring the hand I hold up and kiss it softly. “Nothing could
have kept me away.” The blood I was willing to spill to get to her is evident
of that.
The tears run down Indie’s face freely now. “Astor—” Her lips remain
parted like she’s going to add more, but she’s suddenly overtaken by
something completely out of our control. Her eyes, which had been so clear
and awake seconds ago, roll into the back of her head as convulsions
violently take over her small body. The monitors connected to her sound as
her heart rate spikes and her oxygen levels drop.
She’s not breathing.
She’s not fucking breathing!
“Indie!” Flying into a standing position, I yell loud enough for someone
to hear me through the open door. “We need help in here! She’s seizing!”
I’m helpless to do anything but watch her shake and spasm
uncontrollably in the bed. It’s hard to ignore the desire to reach for her and
hold her steady. I know doing so could cause further damage though.
Twenty seconds later, a team of people dressed in scrubs and white
coats rush into the room. My world quiets as a powerless feeling creeps in
like a thick, suffocating fog. People are yelling and someone shoves me
backward when I don’t move away fast enough.
“You need to leave so we can stabilize her,” someone says, but it’s like
they’re talking to me through a tunnel. “Sir!” they snap, loud enough to pull
me out of my daze. “Leave the room immediately and wait outside.”
Absolutely not. “I’m not leaving her.”
The doctor’s face hardens, and her voice rises. “This isn’t up for
discussion. Leave the room or I will have security remove you from the
building completely!”
Fingers threading through the strands of my hair, I look one last time at
Indie. The thought of leaving her alone makes my sternum ache but I have
no choice. Walking away and out of the room might be one of the hardest
things I’ve ever had to do.
The door closes behind me, effectively separating me from her. Even
with the blood rushing in my ears, the hallway is too quiet compared to the
chaos of her hospital room. Not knowing what else to do, I slide down the
wall right outside her door and hold my head in my hands.
How is this happening?
 “Dad?” Callan’s voice cuts through the humming impairing my hearing.
“Dad? What happened?”
My throat feels tight, and I’m forced to swallow the emotion down
before I can answer him. “She started seizing …” I trail off, clearing my
throat again. “I don’t know … I don’t know what else is happening. They
made me leave her. She’s all alone in there.”
Callan places the two paper travel cups of coffee on the nurse’s station
before easing himself on the ground next to me. Wordlessly, he reaches for
me and gives my forearm a comforting squeeze. “They’ve got her. She’s
going to be okay.”
“She has to be,” I grunt, scrubbing my face like I can wash away the
devastating feeling consuming me.
“She’s far too stubborn and strong to give up that easily. You’re not
going to lose her, Dad,” Callan says, catching me off guard. There’s no
judgment in his voice, only acceptance and understanding. “Well, not today
anyway. You’re kind of a dick, so she might get sick of your shit and run for
the hills eventually, but today? She’s not going anywhere.”
Turning my head, I stare at my son. Sometimes I find myself shocked
that he truly is a man now. The young boy I’ve raised for over twenty years
has grown up. “How long have you known, Callan?”
He smiles at this. “You might recall me telling you that you don’t give
me enough credit.” It was the night that he and Indie ended things officially.
I hadn’t understood what he meant then. “Dad, you’re really good at hiding
behind that passive mask of yours, but do you truly think I didn’t see the
way you looked at her? I knew the first night I brought Indie home that you
wanted her. When I knew I couldn’t use her any longer to get over Ophelia,
I started bringing her to the lake.”
“So, you purposely put her in my path?”
“Yep.” He nods cockily. “And let’s be real, you gave yourself away
when you had her move into the house. You’ve never liked any of my
girlfriends enough to have them live under your roof, and you’re definitely
not that generous.”
For a full minute I’m too stunned to speak. Not once did he hint or give
anything away that showed he played a role in all of this, and I can’t help
but feel proud of him that he was able to keep such a thing from me. He
might just survive working with Emeric after all.
“You’re really okay with this?” I ask him.
“Yeah, Dad. I’m okay with it,” he promises. “Indie once said that all she
wanted was for me to be happy. I want the same for her and for you. If you
guys make each other happy, who the hell am I to stand in the way of that?”
I always said that I didn’t care what Callan or anyone thought of what I
was doing with Indie, but getting his blessing brings about a level of relief I
didn’t know I needed.
“She does make me happy.” She makes me smile and feel lighter than I
have in my entire life.
Leaning his head against the wall, he turns to me, blue eyes inquisitive.
“Do you love her?”
How can I admit that to him when I haven’t had a chance to tell her
first? Instead, I simply say, “I just need her to be okay.”
TWENTY-NINE
 INDIE

MY ENTIRE BODY feels like it was run over by a bus, and then, just for
good measure, they backed up and ran over my head again. Muscles I didn’t
even know I had are sore, and not the good kind of sore that Astor usually
leaves me in. Despite all the pain and stiffness in my body, the only thing I
can focus on is how damn thirsty I am. I feel like I’ve been snacking on
cotton balls like it was my fucking job.
My heavy eyelids crack open, and the morning sun coming through the
window instantly makes my retinas sting. Who left the curtains open? I
always close them, afraid some perv might be looking at me at night.
Stifling a groan, I close my eyes again and turn my head away from the
bright light.
Wait a second… The sun is up and it’s morning.
What the hell? I don’t remember going to bed last night. Out of habit, I
reach my hand out and search for Astor. He’s always here when I wake up,
but my fingers don’t brush against his warm skin like they usually do. No,
they’re met with something made of hard plastic.
Forcing my eyes open, I squint against the sun and look around the
room. Nope, this definitely isn’t my room or Astor’s. An obnoxious beeping
sound I’d recognize anywhere comes from above my head. Lifting my head
in its direction, I examine the steady green line of my heartbeat rising and
falling on the screen, along with my other vitals.
Holy shit! I’m in the hospital.
In a completely clumsy manner, I pull myself into a sitting position,
ignoring the way my body aches in protest. The IV pulls painfully in my
arm when the tubing catches on the side of the hospital bed, and I carefully
adjust it to allow more mobility.
I’m trying to remember what happened and how I ended up here. It’s
not until my eyes land on a sleeping Astor that it all comes back to me. His
handsome face is like a key unlocking all the memories that had been
momentarily stolen from me.
He lies back on a recliner-like chair across the room. His arms are
crossed over his chest and his head rests against the back. His mouth is
pulled in a frown and his shoulders twitch, making me worry he’s having a
bad dream. The dress shirt he wears is rolled up at the elbows and the first
two buttons are undone, but that’s not what really gets my attention. It’s the
fact that it’s severely wrinkled. Astor Banes doesn’t wear wrinkled or
stained clothes.
Oh my god, he slept here.
The same sensation that took me over when I woke up the first time and
saw him hits me at full force, nearly knocking the wind out of me. It’s a
combination of relief and intoxicating contentment. The fact that he was
here both times I woke only makes my forbidden feelings for Astor
multiply at an alarming rate. I’m in so much trouble when it comes to him.
Like he can feel my eyes on him in his sleep, his gray eyes open and
lock with mine. He stares at me like he’s not fully registering what he’s
seeing.
Needing to break the tense staring contest, I quip playfully, “Be honest,
do I look as bad as I feel. Like on a scale from one to something that lives
under a bridge, how bad is it?” I remember something slamming against my
head and then losing consciousness multiple times. The notion that I may
have needed surgery crosses my mind. “Oh my god, did they shave my
head?”
I don’t think I’d be sitting up in bed if I had brain surgery, but I could
just be on really good drugs, right?
Astor stares at me for another second, face completely void of any
emotion before a huge exhale of breath releases from his lungs. He leans
forward in his chair, dropping his head into his hands. The lighthearted
teasing vibe I was going for evaporates into thin air as I watch him shake
his head slightly.
“Astor?” I try, eyebrows pulling together. “Please say something.”
His head lifts, and he looks back at me. The dark circles and exhaustion
on his face mirror how tired I feel.
“You scared the shit out of me, baby.”
Scared of what I might find, my hand lightly touches the side of my
head that pounds with each beat of my heart. I’m relieved when I find that I
do in fact still have hair.
“But I’m okay, right?”
With a sigh, he stands from the chair and makes his way to me. Taking
my face gently between his hands, Astor places a kiss on my forehead. I
don’t miss the way he inhales, like he’s committing my scent to memory.
“Yeah, pretty girl, you’re going to be okay. They got you on meds to
reduce the swelling and once they added the anticonvulsive, the seizure
stopped. You’ll have to be monitored closely and go in for repeat scans to
make sure the brain bleed has healed on its own.”
A brain bleed? Jesus Christ.
I scoot over in the bed, trying to make as much room for him as possible
in such a narrow space. He hesitates a second before sitting down next to
me. He wraps his arm gingerly around my shoulders, and the ache in my
muscles eases when I lean into him.
 “I had a seizure?” I whisper, picking at the piece of tape holding my IV
in place. At least the seizure explains why my whole body is sore and not
just my head. “I just remember you being there talking to me and then …
nothing.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing slow circles at the top of my
arm. “I’m thankful that one of us doesn’t have to remember that,” he
admits, voice gruff. “Do you remember the barn? Do you remember Jupiter
hurting you?”
I jerk back so hard at his question that lightning-like pain shoots
through me. “What?” I choke. “What do you mean Jupiter hurt me?”
Astor’s face grows angry, fury marring his handsome features. “He
didn’t just hurt you, Indie. He could have killed you. That horse has been
through too much. You’ve tried to help him heal, but I think it’s time we
consider bringing in someone else to work with him. It’s more than you can
handle.”
I gape at him, equal parts confused and pissed at what he’s saying.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Astor?” My question has his
eyebrows shooting toward his hairline. “Jupiter didn’t do this!”
“They found you unconscious in his stall,” he tries to explain, but I
won’t hear it.
“Yeah! Because that’s where I was attacked.”
His body goes rigid, a dark look creeping across his face. “What are you
saying?”
I shift in bed so I can see him better. “I’m saying how dare you blame
Jupiter for this when someone else was there. They spooked him and when
I turned around to see who it was, something slammed against my head. I
heard their footsteps before I passed out.”
“You hit your head very hard. Your memory isn’t—”
I cut him off with a frustrated sound. “No, Astor! I remember this. See
if they have security videos or something because I remember everything
that happened at the barn. I remember almost everything from last night.
Hell, I even remember seeing you when I woke up before and how fucking
scared I was.”
That’s all it takes for the stiffness to leave him and his features to soften.
“You had every reason to be scared. Waking up after being unconscious and
not knowing where you are is jarring.”
My eyes burn and my throat tightens as I shake my head at this. “That
wasn’t why I was scared. I was afraid of how relieved and happy I was to
see you when I opened my eyes.”
His hand reaches out and he cups my face, his thumb tracing my jaw.
“Why would that scare you, baby?”
“Because you’re here and you’re mine now, but when our deal ends, I’m
going to be left with nothing, and I’m going to wake up alone. It scares me
how much it’s going to hurt when that happens, and I’m afraid of how hard
it’s going to be for me to walk away from you when this is over.”
“Indie…”
This isn’t the ideal time or place to have this conversation, but I worry if
I don’t say it now, I won’t ever find the courage again. “I think … I think if
there’s no real future for us and we still have an expiration date, you need to
let me go now. If I stay until the end, I’m just going to fall deeper in love
with you and then I really won’t be able to recover when you leave me.”
His soft caress stills against my wobbling jaw. “It will break me, Astor.”
His name sounds like a hoarse cry on my lips.
Tears finally fall from my eyes and his fingers catch each one and he
wipes them away. “I told you that your tears would be mine,” he murmurs
as he watches them trickle down. “And I want them to belong to me for
much longer than eight months, pretty girl. Last night … was possibly one
of the worst nights of my life. The prospect of losing you was unbearable. I
don’t think I’ve ever felt so hopeless.” His words have a way of creating the
best kind of pain in my heart. It’s like they’re permanently engraving
themselves there. “I promised myself last night that if you wanted to leave,
I’d have to find a way to let you go, but I don’t think I can do it.”
“You can’t?”
“No, I can’t. If you try, I will hunt you down and find another way to
make you mine.” That dark ominous smirk of his that makes my toes curl
and insides warm grows on his face. “And this time I will make it
permanent and then there will be no escaping me. You know how vast my
resources are. There is nowhere on this planet you could hide where I
couldn’t find you. So, tell me, pretty girl, do you want to try and run from
me?
“No,” I murmur, the intensity of his words and gaze stealing my breath.
“I don’t want to go anywhere.”
This isn’t how I foresaw our arrangement going, but I honestly can’t
think of a better outcome. All it took for me to get everything I didn’t know
I wanted was a sinister deal with a god amongst men. And I’d do it all over
again if it brought me here to this exact moment.
Astor's head tilts toward mine and his lips skim across mine. “Pity, I
think I would have enjoyed hunting you.”
THIRTY
 ASTOR

SHE WAS RIGHT, someone else was at the barn three nights ago. They
tried their best to keep their face away from the cameras, but they failed
when they fled from the barn with the metal pipe still in their hand.
One of the reasons I chose that barn was for the intense level of security
they promised me. Unfortunately for them, it seems they couldn’t keep their
word because someone made it all the way past the security points and was
able to severely injure my girl.
They don’t know it yet, but I’m about to wreak havoc on them and their
business. The owners have apologized profusely and were generous enough
to share the video feeds from that night. Sadly, for them, their good gestures
won’t be enough to save them from me and my wrath.
I’ve already made plans to relocate Jupiter to a different, more secure,
location. Discussions with the property’s owners about further advancing
their security have already started, and I feel confident it will be a better fit.
In the future, I might consider purchasing property with enough land for
Jupiter and Periphas, but for now, this will do.
My lawyers and I will deal with the shortcomings of the current barn
soon, until then, I need to handle the real perpetrator.
Sitting back in my desk chair, I watch the video again. The same level
of fury I felt watching it for the first time an hour ago returns in full force.
They thought they could get to her because she was all alone and had no
one to protect her.
They were wrong though. Indie Riverton is mine and anyone who dares
lay a hand on her subsequently signs their death warrant.
Selecting a number I haven’t called in ages, I place my phone to my ear
and wait for him to answer.
I can practically hear the grin in his voice when he picks up. “Well, isn’t
this a nice surprise?” Emeric greets. “What can I do for you, brother?”
While I mastered the art of hiding behind polite words and diplomacy
like my father before me, my little brother has mastered the ability of
making each syllable he speaks sound like a threat. He doesn’t try to hide
what he’s capable of or who he is. He wears it proudly. I’m sure he finds
freedom in doing so.
“I need you in Seattle. Now,” I order, eyes still locked on the screen in
front of me. “There’s someone I need help taking care of.”
Emeric cackles. “After all this time, you call me for a favor?”
“Yes,” I bite out between clenched teeth. “I need this dealt with
immediately and with as much discretion as possible. And unless you’ve
truly lost your mind, I believe that is something you’re capable of doing.”
“Don’t you worry a second about my mind, Astor. It’s as clear and
stable as it’s always been.” Emeric’s patronizing tone makes my eyes roll in
my head. He may be leading the family empire now, but he’s still my baby
brother. “What do you say we have my new protégé take care of your little
problem. Might be a nice initiation for him, don’t you think?”
“Callan isn’t taking part in any of this, nor shall he ever know about it.
Do you understand me?”
“Fine,” he huffs, annoyed I’m ruining his fun. “So, what? You want me
to fly across the country to dirty my hands so you don’t have to? That
doesn’t exactly seem fair now, does it?”
“Who said anything about my hands staying clean?”
 “Are you saying the great Astor Banes is ready to bloody his hands
again?”
Violent and graphic memories of my life before this crash into me.
Things I’ve done and haven’t thought about in decades play in my head like
a movie. And yet, it’s still not enough to stop me from saying, “For her, I
am.”
“So, this is for a lady, then? Well slap my ass and color me surprised.
My big brother is pussy whipped.” Emeric’s joyous, borderline manic,
laugh fills my ears. “I can’t wait to meet her. She must be special if she has
you calling me for help.”
“Are you going to come or not?” I question impatiently, ignoring his
comment about Indie being special. I'll do everything in my power to keep
them separated for as long as possible.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. As a matter of fact, I’m already on my way to
the airstrip.” The private jet will get him here before nightfall. Perfect. “Are
you going to tell me who the unlucky fucker is?”
A menacing grin pulls on my lips as the person in the security footage
turns his head. “Ivan. His name is Ivan.” I click on the other clip that I
received from a local detective and ally. The traffic camera catches the car
that Ivan had escaped to after he assaulted Indie run a red light. It also
captures the person in the driver’s seat. “And his wife.”

COLD AIR FILLS the helicopter as Emeric slides the side door open. The
sudden rush of wind and temperature change has our guests lifting their
heads and eyes groggily opening. The drugs that were administered over
two hours ago keep their focuses fuzzy and their movements sluggish.
Leaving them perfectly vulnerable and malleable.
 Holding onto the safety handle above the open door, Emeric leans
dangerously far outside the helicopter and lets out a cheer loud enough to be
heard over the whirling of the blades.
Indie’s traitorous bitch mother and Ivan look at him and then frantically
back to me.
I relax back in my seat across from them and cross my ankle over my
knee. “Oh, don’t worry. No one can hear him. We’re fairly far from
civilization,” I explain loudly so they can hear me. “We’re flying over the
wilderness between the state line and Canada. So, as you can imagine,
there’s no one around to hear or see us up here for damn near forty miles.”
With a joyous smirk on his face, Emeric returns to his seat next to me.
His dark, almost black hair is sticking up all over the place from the wind,
and his eyes that look much like mine shine with excitement. “Meaning, we
can do whatever the fuck we want with you, and no one will be the wiser.”
We’re ghosts up here in the midnight sky. We’ve taken the necessary
precautions to ensure that our flight plans are nonexistent, and our aircraft
can’t be picked up by any radar. The pilot is the same one who flies the
private jet and he’s worked for us for years. He’s well compensated to keep
his mouth shut and knows what will happen if he were to ever speak out
against the Banes family.
“What is the meaning of this!” Ivan screams, his body fighting against
the rope restraints that ensnare him. “Do you know who I am?”
I bark a laugh at this. “I know who you are, but do you know who I
am?” I question, voice eerily calm and even.
This whole thing has been like riding a bicycle. The man I thought I left
behind long ago has returned with little to no effort. Stepping back into his
shoes was as easy as breathing.
“Why the fuck would I know who you—”
The mother nudges her elbow the best she can into his side, the rope
around her wrists hindering her flexibility. “Ivan. It’s him.” Unlike Ivan,
she’s failing to keep the panic from her tone. Her terror is on full display,
and I fear I might get drunk off it.
Ivan looks confused by her words for a second. His head turns back
toward me, and as if he’s finally taking the time to pay attention to who’s
sitting across from him, his face pales as recollection sets in.
“That’s right,” I nod in pity. “I’m assuming you’ve just put together
how truly and utterly fucked you are.”
Ivan, trying to regain his composure and hide his nerves, laughs at me,
but the sound is forced and fake. “This is because of her? You’re doing all
of this because of my whore stepdaughter you’ve shacked up with?”
I can’t help but growl at his usage of the term ‘stepdaughter’. Neither
one of them should be allowed to call her their daughter. They forfeited that
right months ago.
“Careful now,” Emeric tsks next to me. “I’d watch that mouth of yours
if I were you. We still have plenty of fuel. If you keep it up, we can fly
around up here while I rip your teeth from your skull one by one. If I’m
feeling arts and crafty, I can make a necklace out of them and send it to
your mother for her birthday. Now wouldn’t that be a lovely surprise for
her?”
Indie’s mother chokes on a sob, her face deathly pale. “Why are you
doing this? It’s between my daughter and us. It’s a family matter. It does not
concern you.”
I fly forward in my seat, arms resting on my knees as I bite out, “That’s
where you’re fucking wrong. When you abandoned your daughter, she
became mine. You then attempted to try and take what is mine. Luckily you
failed.” The security video proved that Jupiter was innocent in all of this.
When Ivan swung the pipe at Indie, Jupiter lunged at him and obstructed
Ivan’s movements. If he hadn’t done so, the blow to Indie’s head would
have been fatal. Jupiter returned the favor and saved Indie’s life. The two
really are quite the pair. “As you can see, it does concern me. It concerns
me a great deal and that is why I have gladly stepped in to take care of the
problem.”
“If you want to waste your time with that lying cunt, then by all means,
have at it,” Ivan seethes.
“That’s why you did this? Because she’s a liar?” I question, not
understanding what he thinks she could have possibly lied about.
“First, she tried to interfere with my relationship with her mother by
lying about those fucking cameras she found in her room, and then she and
that bitch trainer of hers posted online about their miracle reunion with that
goddamn horse.”
“That horse belonged to me, and I could do whatever the hell I wanted
with it,” the mother jumps in, yelling in defense of her new husband. “How
dare Tessa and Indie spread all those lies about us on the internet! How
were we to know that he’d end up at a kill buyer?”
I hadn’t known until recently that Tessa had shared Jupiter’s story on
her nonprofit’s website. She didn’t include either Ivan or the mother’s
name, but people were still able to link Jupiter back to them.
“I’m guessing you’re regretting ever putting your name on his
registration, aren’t you?” I ask her mother. “Made it really easy for the
animal right’s activists to track you down and reveal what you did to that
animal.”
Ivan rocks forward in his seat harshly. If he wasn’t tied at the wrists and
ankles, he probably would have come at me just now. “They sent the article
to my investors. They believed the lies and ended our business dealings.
Apparently, they’re a bunch of fucking PETA supporters. I’ve lost millions
of dollars in deals because of that selfish bitch. She had to pay for what she
did to me.”
“There you go again with the name calling,” Emeric sighs. “I was really
hoping we could avoid the whole teeth thing. Mouths bleed so much, and I
really don’t want it on my clothes, dude.”
 Standing from my seat, I yank Ivan up by the wrinkled collar of his
shirt. He sways on his feet, but my grip keeps him from falling over and out
the open door.
“That’s the truly funny thing in all of this. Indie has no idea that Tessa
posted that article.” My guess is Tessa snapped a picture of the reunited pair
when she was there helping retrain Jupiter. “The only thing Indie is guilty
of in all of this is believing her mother still cared for her, but you’ve both
made it very clear that isn’t the case.”
“Indie was always a selfish brat. Her weak father always placated her,”
the woman yells at me, her shrill voice cutting through the whooshing of the
helicopter sounds. “She should have just let that dumb fucking horse go, but
no, she had to continue to be meddlesome.”
Ivan rears back and spits at me, his saliva hitting my cheek. “She got
what she deserved. My only regret is I didn’t swing harder.”
Wiping my face off on my shoulder, I grin at him, teeth grinding
painfully. “And I think you’re getting off too easy.”
Before he can retort with another unsavory remark, I push him from the
open door. His screams as he barrels toward the forest floor below are
drowned out by the wind and helicopter blades, but his wife’s are nearly
loud enough to pierce my eardrums.
My only disappointment is I can't hear the sound of his body hitting the
ground. The snapping of his bones would have been glorious.
“Ivan!” the mother screeches. “What did you do?”
Standing in front of her, I roughly grab hold of her chin and force her to
look at me. “The chances of someone finding him at all are minimal, but the
chances of them finding his body before it’s nothing but broken bones are
nonexistent. The wildlife is going to pick apart his flesh until there’s
nothing left.” I meant it when I said we were in the middle of fucking
nowhere. “You’re lucky that you’re not joining him down there.”
“I’m not?” she sobs.
 “No, at the end of the day, you’re Indie’s mother and I can’t very well
kill you.” Which is truly unfortunate because I would really like to. “So,
you’ll go with my brother. I told him he can do whatever he likes with you
as long as you continue to breathe. Though, I can bet whatever his plans
may be, they’re going to make you wish I’d let you join your husband.”
“You’re sick!”
Patting her cheek patronizingly, I say, “I know, but your daughter loves
it.”
Moving away from her, she breaks down into uncontrollable ugly sobs.
The kind where there’s an ungodly amount of spit and snot cascading down
her face.
Closing the helicopter door, I pound on the cockpit door, signaling for
the pilot to take us back to the remote field where we left the cars. The sun
will be up by the time I return to Indie, but I’ll be returning to her knowing
that I’ve taken care of any threats to her. The medication she’s still on
makes her tired, and with any luck, she won’t know I left her at the house
under Callan’s watchful eye. My son knew something was going on when I
left, but he’s still in the dark about his uncle being involved. It’s my hope it
stays that way.
Sitting back down in my seat next to Emeric, he turns to me with a
wicked grin on his face. “That was brilliant, it’s like you never left to
become a stuffy academic.” With a long, exaggerated sigh, he quickly adds,
“My dick is rock hard right now.”
Only my perverted brother would find what just happened hot.
Shaking my head, I just say, “Let’s go home.”
THIRTY-ONE
 INDIE

I STARE at the detective standing in front of me and shrug my shoulders.

“I’m sorry, sir, I haven’t seen or talked to my mother since September. She
got remarried and cut off all ties she had to me.” Admitting that doesn’t hurt
like it probably should. Each day that passes without seeing or talking to
her solidifies how much better off I am without her.
He writes something down on the notepad in his hand before asking,
“What about the husband? Have you heard from him?”
Ivan’s missing too? “Nope. We never saw eye to eye or got along. There
isn’t a single reason for me to talk to Ivan, or for him to reach out to me.”
In actuality, I’m kind of terrified that if I were put in the same room as
Ivan again, I’d try to claw his eyes out with my nails. And I’m far too cute
to go to prison for assault.
This whole thing is sitting weird in my gut. The endless possibilities of
what may have happened to them swirl in my brain as I give my statement
to the officer. There’s one likelihood in particular that seems the most
probable and it’s taking everything in me to keep my expression passive. If
my suspicion is true, the last thing I want to do is let on to the detective that
I know something.
“You’re more than welcome to look through my phone if you’d like.
You’d see the last phone call I received from my mother was when she
evicted me from my apartment.”
“Did her doing that make you hold a grudge?”
You can’t be serious. They think I had something to do with them
disappearing off the face of the planet?
I gesture around at the expansive lake house I now call home. “I think
it’s safe to say that I came out on top, don’t you think?” Not to mention she
played a massive role in placing Astor in my life. “If anything, I should be
thanking her.”
He scribbles something else on his pad before nodding his head,
dismissing me. “Alright, Miss Riverton. We’ll be in contact if we learn
anything about your mother’s whereabouts.”
Walking across the foyer to the front door, I open it for him. “I
appreciate it, but that’s really not necessary. You can let me know if or
when you find her, but otherwise I don’t need updates.”
“Your fallout with her must have been massive,” he remarks, stopping
in front of the open door.
“Just because you share blood with someone doesn’t mean you have to
love or even like them.” If I’ve learned anything, it’s that family doesn’t
have to be blood related. They’re the people that show up for you when you
need them and stand in your corner regardless. I now know what it’s like to
have that.
“I suppose you’re right.” His beady eyes scrutinize my face for a
second, making him hesitate to walk through the door. “Are you sure you’re
okay, miss?”
The bruising around my eyes has started to turn a hideous green color
and my dirty as hell hair is tied into two knots on my head. In other words, I
can understand where his concern is coming from. “I’m fine. I had an
accident at a barn.”
After hearing my story about someone hitting me over the head and my
steadfast belief that Jupiter is innocent, Astor assured me that he’d
investigate it himself before bothering the authorities. Which is another
reason I think I know what happened to my mother and Ivan.
The man nods before finally walking down the front steps of the house.
I stand there for a second, watching his black and white SUV pull out of
the long driveway before shutting the door and going in search of Astor. He
mentioned something about working with Periphas before dinner, so I
decide to start my search in the backyard.

HE STANDS in front of the grand aviary watching the golden eagle inside
when I walk around the side of the house. Hearing me approach, his head
turns in my direction, and a frown instantly forms on his handsome face.
“You’re not supposed to be out of bed.”
I’m still technically on bedrest from my accident. I was released from
the hospital six days ago, and one of the conditions of my discharge was
that I take it easy for the next two weeks.
For the most part, that’s been easy to do since the intense headaches I’m
still getting have forced me to stay in Astor’s bed. The good news though is
the last CT scan I got showed the bleeding has already started to subside.
The doctors are hopeful I’ll be symptom free in the next month or so.
Lucky is an understatement when it comes to all of this.
“I would be, except the doorbell kept ringing and I had to answer the
door,” I explain, pulling the soft white robe I wear tighter around me. The
chill in the air makes goosebumps erupt over my skin. I guess I should have
changed out of my cotton pajama shorts before coming out here.
Astor’s brows raise. “Who was here?”
“A detective,” I say pointedly. “Apparently, my mom and Ivan are
missing. He wanted to know if I’ve seen them.”
 The mask that I recognize all too well falls firmly into place. “That’s
truly unfortunate.”
My eyes narrow at him and his apathetic response. “What did you do?”
“Who says I did anything?”
Taking a step forward, I shift toward his tense frame. “Because I know
you, Astor.”
Now close enough for him to touch, he reaches for me and trails his
fingers down the side of my face. “Then you know I’d never let anything
happen to you.” His gray eyes flick to the injured side of my head. “You
think I’d allow him to live after he nearly killed you?”
Oh, fuck.
Five minutes ago, I was imagining myself being sent to prison for
assaulting Ivan and now I’m picturing Astor wearing an orange jumpsuit for
the rest of his life as he serves time for first degree murder.
What’s equal parts troubling and funny is I’m not even surprised that
Ivan was the one at the barn. Who else hates me enough to do something
like that? Jupiter’s reaction also makes more sense. Ivan was probably the
last person he saw before he was sent into that hellhole.
“Jesus Christ!” I gape, shaky hand covering my mouth. “What were you
thinking? What if this gets traced back to you? Then what are we going to
do?” Oh my god, am I going to have to talk to him through a piece of
bulletproof glass? “I want it noted for the record that I’m vehemently
against conjugal visits. I’m usually down for anything when it comes to
you, but that is where I draw the fucking line.”
An unimpressed look appears on his face. “You seem to be forgetting
who the hell I am and who my family is, Indie. I’m not going to fucking
prison. I’m not going anywhere, in fact.”
Backing up, I hold my throbbing head between my hands. “Is my mom
alive?” Even as I ask, I’m not sure if I really care. In my mind, the mother I
once knew died when my father did. I’ve mourned her already. The woman
who’s been hellbent on ruining my life and hurting me is not worth my
tears.
“She is,” he tells me stiffly. “I’ve sent her off with Emeric. He’ll deal
with her, and you’ll never have to see her again.”
Hearing this news, there should be a vast array of emotions wreaking
havoc through me, but they’re nowhere to be found. All I feel is
indifference for the fact she’s been taken by Astor’s brother and relief that
I’ll never have to be in the same room as her again. I’m not sure which one
of those is worse.
I shake my head at him, still trying to process the fact that he killed
Ivan. “Why did you do it? Why did you even risk it?”
Astor takes a menacing step toward me, stealing whatever personal
space I’d gained, and a dark storm-like look takes over his features. “Did
you really just ask me why? You know why.”
Tilting my chin, I boldly meet his intense gaze. “I want to hear you say
it.” He told me in the hospital that he’d hunt me down if I left, and now he’s
committed a serious crime for me. “Tell me why you did this.”
“Because, against all logic and reason, you have found a way to
completely ensnare me. Even if I wanted to try, I couldn’t find a way to
escape the web you’ve captured me in. You, Indie, have become the reason
my heart beats, and the reason I wake up feeling lighter than I ever have.”
His hand gestures at the enclosure behind him. “I used to watch Periphas
soar above me and found myself jealous of the freedom his wings allowed
him. I’m not anymore because you’ve given me a type of freedom I didn’t
even know I desired.” He reaches for me again and takes my face between
his hands tenderly. “You’ve given me the freedom to smile and laugh, and
you’ve given me the freedom to love.”
“Astor…”
“I would risk everything I have for you, pretty girl, because I love you
more than I thought possible. Before you, I truly didn’t think I was capable
of such a thing, and at the time, I was content with that. I was content going
on with my life alone.” He drops his forehead against mine and I close my
eyes, adsorbing him and this moment. “But not anymore. Now I can’t
fathom you not being here with me, and that is why I couldn’t allow
someone who wanted to take you from me to remain alive.”
My chest shudders with a shaky exhale as his thumbs sweep across my
cheekbones.
“Do you understand now why I did what I did?” he questions. “And do
you understand that I’d do it again without a second thought or moment of
remorse. You’re mine, Indie Riverton, and I will protect you as such.”
“I understand.” My fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt as I cling to
him. “Thank you, Astor.”
“Why on earth are you thanking me, baby?”
“Because I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have someone who loves me,” I
admit, tilting my head back so I can look into his eyes. As usual, they look
like they’re full of thunderstorms. “So, thank you for reminding me and
thank you for letting me love you back.”
The corners of his mouth pull in a hint of a smile. “I’ll remind you daily
if you need me to.” His hands trail down my body before hooking behind
the back of my thighs. Without much effort, Astor lifts me from the ground
and holds me up against him. “And I will show you just as often how much
I love you.”
Arms and legs looping around him, I tilt my head and kiss him gently.
His touch is softer than I’m used to, and I know he’s still being cautious
because of my injury.
“Aren’t you worried about what people will say about us on campus?” I
ask, withdrawing back an inch.
While our relationship is sacred and special to us, it still might cause
others to raise their brows and make unwanted remarks.
 “No, I’m not worried,” he assures me as he begins to carry me back
toward the house. “People aren’t idiotic enough to speak ill of someone
with my last name. That’s a guaranteed way for their lives to be ruined.”
I don’t doubt what he says for a second. He got away with disposing of
Ivan, I’m certain he can get away with anything.
“But I don’t have your last name.”
Coming to a stop on the path that leads down to the dock, Astor kisses
me again. “But you could,” he murmurs against my lips.
“What?”
That devious smirk grows on his face, and I know whatever he’s about
to say is either going to make my heart explode in my chest or my pussy
throb. It’s a toss-up between the two, but they’re definitely the only
possibilities.
“What do you say, pretty girl? Want to enter another arrangement with
me? But this one won’t be just for eight months. I’m thinking of something
a little more permanent and legally binding this time around.” He skims his
lips across my shocked parted ones. “It’s a good deal. You’ll get my last
name and get to share my bed until death do us part.”
Finally finding the ability to form words again, I ask him the same
question that started all of this. “And what do you want in return?”
“You.” His answer has the same effect on me as it did the first time he
said it. “I’ll only ever want you.”
EPILOGUE
 ASTOR

Five Months Later

I haven’t seen a smile this big on her face since I asked her to marry me.
That was a special day, but today is a triumphant day. Today is the first time
Jupiter has allowed her to ride him since he was taken from her last
summer. All the time and patience she put into helping him heal and
regaining his trust have finally paid off. The relief she feels almost
outshines her delight as she canters around the perimeter of the covered
arena.
It’s fucking freezing out and the sound of the pouring rain hitting the
metal roof above us almost drowns out the sounds of her joyous laughs, but
still, it’s a really good day.
Eyes, the color of expensive scotch, find mine from across the arena and
I smile encouragingly at her. She told me that I didn’t have to be here today,
but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was letting her do this alone. She may be
wearing a helmet and have been cleared by her doctors months ago, but the
very thought of Jupiter throwing her off had icy fear running up my spine.
Finding her unconscious in a hospital bed is something I’d like to only
experience once in this lifetime.
 To my delight, Jupiter, who has made leaps and bounds in his recovery,
seems amazingly at ease today. The new barn we have him boarded at is
smaller and offers him a calmer environment. The security updates the
owner made also provide me with peace of mind when Indie is here alone.
It also helps that any threats to her life have been taken care of. I haven’t
received an update on Indie’s mother in while, but I’m sure Emeric is
making her regret every breath she still takes. He has a way of doing that to
people.
Footsteps crunching in the gravel have me turning my head away from
the woman who’s become everything to me. A dark figure walks toward the
covered outdoor arena, the hood they wear over their head obscuring their
face. If I hadn’t been expecting him to show up, I would still be able to
recognize him based on the scuffed boots on his feet.
Coming to a stop next to me on the opposite side of the arena fence I’m
leaning on, Rafferty rests his elbows against the wood railing and silently
watches Indie.
“Why am I here, Banes?” he asks after a tense moment of silence.
I don’t bother greeting him as I turn my head back to Indie. Such polite
gestures won’t be necessary for this brief conversation. “I just thought
you’d like to know that Posie Davenport’s transfer application to Olympic
Sound University has been accepted. She’ll be starting in the performing
arts program this fall.”
I can feel his scrutinizing gaze on me. “Why did you follow through
with it? Everyone already knows about your relationship since you ran off
and married her.”
At the mention of marriage, I twist the wedding band I swore I’d never
wear around my finger. “Yes, but you’re still privy to the more …
distasteful aspects of our relationship.” Not for a second do I regret that our
story started with a sinister arrangement. Frankly, I wouldn’t change a damn
thing about any of it. It played out exactly how it needed to for us to end up
here. “Those are details that I would very much like to keep private.”
“I see.” Raffety nods. “So, getting Posie here ensures that those details
die with me?”
Seeing as I’ve already made the necessary precautions to keep Cheska’s
mouth quiet, Rafferty is the only other person that could possibly be an
issue.
I hesitate before answering, my eyes locked on the smile my wife
wears. “Sometimes you have to make unsavory deals with the least likely of
people to get what you really want.”
“I’m out of here,” he scoffs and takes a step away from the fence. “You
sound like a fucking fortune cookie.”
“Rafferty,” I say lowly, stopping his retreat. “Can I give you some
advice?”
“I think we both know that you’re the last man I should be taking advice
from, but if you really feel like wasting your time and breath, by all means,
Banes, lay your words of wisdom upon me.” His arms swoop in a mocking
gesture, not a single fuck on his face or in his voice.
“You’re graduating in a year, and when you do, you’re set to inherit the
reins of a very large corporation. It will require a level of responsibility and
maturity that you’ve yet become accustomed too. My advice is that you
take this next year and grow the fuck up. You will have a thousand people
depending on you for their livelihood. For you to do what needs to be done,
you’re going to need to get these ploys, these games out of your system.”
Like there’s a violent storm rolling in, Rafferty’s face darkens. His icy
blue eyes become daggers as they narrow at me. “You don’t think I know
responsibility?” There’s a calmness in his tone that shouldn’t be there given
his body language. “Are you forgetting that for the last five years, I’ve been
doing everything alone? I was still a kid when they dumped it all on my lap,
but somehow, I still figured it out. Not only have I kept myself going, but
I’ve managed to keep my brother going as well. And we both know that
hasn’t been a small feat.”
“What you’ve been through … neither you nor your brother should have
had to survive it.” The events that took place in Rafferty’s house five years
ago were all people talked about for a year. Their heartache and misery
became the town’s entertainment.
“You’re right, but we did, and it’s her fault.” A cold, menacing grin
grows on his face, each of his wicked plans reflecting in it. “You said I play
games, well, Banes, you’ve done me a great service and put my favorite
player back on the board. Thank you for that.”
Shaking my head, I sigh at the young man. “If this is really what you
think you have to do to move on, then all I ask is you don’t leave a blood
trail on my campus.”
“Fair enough.”
He tips his chin and turns to walk away from me. I’ve just returned my
attention to Indie when I hear him call my name again. “You’re wrong
about one thing though,” he shouts back, not a care given that he’s standing
in the pouring rain. “I’m not just gaining responsibility next year, I’m
gaining resources. Unlimited resources, in fact. My games aren’t going to
come to an end, they’re only going to grow. They’re going to extend past
this fucking town and your campus, but in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy
my reunion with Posie.” Eyes flicking toward Indie, he adds, “Enjoy
newlywed life, Banes.”
With one last cocky lift of his lips and a mocking solute, Rafferty
leaves, the dark cloud that’s clung to him for five years lingering in his
wake.

Rafferty & Posie’s story is coming later this summer!

ALSO BY KAYLEIGH KING

The White Wolf Prophecy Series

Wolf Bound
Soul Bound
Shadow Bound
Fire Bound

The Crimson Crown Duet

Bloody Kingdom
Midnight Queen

Standalone Books
Catching Lightning
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, I have to thank the readers for this one. This was my
first venture into contemporary romance after spending a lot of time in the
paranormal world. To say I was a nervous wreck for you guys to read this
when it was first in Bully God is an understatement.
Your lovely reactions and reviews to the preview of Astor and Indie’s
story is what really pushed me to write the whole thing! Thank you for
loving my words and stories, and for encouraging me to keep at it. I
wouldn’t be doing this without your endless support.
Cat: Oh my magical Kitchen (that’s my nickname for her… IYKYK). I
swear you can read my mind. You bring to life my visions even when I
can’t put them into words. Somehow you always just know. Working with
you is probably my favorite part of this author journey. Love KK.
Greer: I don’t know what to say that you don’t already know. Every day
I’m thankful that you were put in my life. You are my best friend and I can’t
imagine ever cowriting with someone else. Thank you for flying across the
country and being my emotional-support friend at my first ever book
signing. I’m not sure I would have gone if you hadn’t agreed to be there for
me. I can’t wait to see what else we can create together.
Aundi: My love, my fucking, love. Your messages while beta reading
this story made me excited to release it. On those days when I was doubting
myself and you took the time to talk me off the ledge, I’m so grateful for
you.
Bre: I don’t know how you made time to beta read for me with your
crazy mom schedule. You are a super star. Thank you for loving Astor as
much as I do. I know you said you licked him so he’s yours, but I suspect
you may have to fight off some people for him. Good luck, boo.
Christina: Thank you for holding down the fort so I can disappear into
my writing cave. Also thank you for letting me slide into your DMs with
my complete and utter nonsense all the time. I don’t know why you put up
with me.
Ellie & Rosa: If you wanted to fire me as a client, I wouldn’t even
blame you. The deadlines I put you on are cruel, but thank you nonetheless,
for always working with me. Thank you for making my words pretty.
 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today Bestselling author Kayleigh King is a writer of contemporary and paranormal romance.
She creates love stories that will stick with you, almost like they’re haunting you.
She’s a Diet Coke and cold brew addict, sharing music is her love language, and she seriously lacks a
filter. Anything she thinks, she usually says. And if she doesn’t say it, her facial expressions will say
it for her. Currently residing in Denver Colorado, you’ll never find her on a snowboard since she
avoids the snow like the plague.
Want to chat about books, music, or life in general? Make sure you join her Facebook reader group
and follow her on Instagram. Her DMs are always open to her readers.