Page 18 of The Naughty One
“I say I forgive you for the Cocoon crap,” Magda beamed, hugging her youngest tightly. “Stuart … yes?No?”
Stuart grinned. “I think that would make the day even more perfect, yes. Now all we have to discuss iswhere.”
Magda laughed. “Okay, you two, slow your roll. Let’s get today over and done with. Juno, are your sisters on theirway?”
“Arti is, but Romy said she might be a little late. Emergency at the hospital, and she said that she and Blue might come together for convenience’ssake.”
“That’s cool … but I hope they don’t get tiedup.”
Romy was indeed tiedup but not in the way her mother meant. Blue’s tie was wrapped around her wrists, her hands behind her back as she lay on his dining table, her legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged his cock in and out of her, thrusting harder each time as he fucked her, his strokes brutal but his hands on her body, caressing her breasts, her belly, were soft and tender. Romy came explosively as Blue pulled out and came on her skin, shooting thick reams of creamy white come onto herbelly.
Romy begged him not to stop, and so he turned her onto her stomach, pulling her hands, and she cried out with pain and pleasure. He pushed into her perfectly rounded ass and fucked her slowly this time. “God, Romy, you’re so beautiful, so exquisite … I’ll never get enough of you, notever…”
He made her come over and over before, exhausted, they showered together then fell onto his bed. They had been working an all-nighter and had gotten home just after dawn. After sleeping for an hour, they both woke, horny for each other and for the next three hours, fucked each other’s brains out, clawing at each other, desperate for thatconnection.
Now they lay side by side, sleepy and exhausted. Blue grabbed the alarm clock and set an alarm for two p.m. “Don’t want to be late for your mom.” He grinned, but then saw Romy had fallen asleep, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Blue studied her face, so lovely, so expressive even in repose. He knew he was in love with her, had been for weeks now, almost since the first, but Blue struggled with whether to tell her or not. They needed to get this dinner with their parents over with, then decide whether or not to gopublic.
The only person Blue had told was his chief of surgery, Beau Quinto, not wanting any improper behavior on his record, nor to let his mentor and frienddown.
“It isn’t a fling, Beau,” he’d told him seriously, “I’m crazy about her, but it won’t affect either my work or Romy’s. We’re professionals. Yes, Romy and I work closely together, but I assure you I don’t favor her above the other residents.” He grinned slightly. “Even if she is the best general surgery resident I’ve everseen.”
Quinto had rolled his eyes. “Blue … I’ve been where you are. When I met Dinah, she was a patient, so I know all about improper relationships. I trust you and Romy not to let your relationship interfere with your work. Don’t let medown.”
“I won’t, I give you my word. Thanks,boss.”
Blue laid his head on top of Romy’s and closed his eyes. Feeling her in his arms was like a drug to him; he loved her brain, her commitment to her work, to the hospital … God, he’d dreamed of finding a woman like Romy all his adult life. The only person who had ever gotten close was Julia, his college sweetheart, but she had had an affair with Gaius during their final year at Harvard. When a vindictive Gaius had dumped her soon after, Blue had had no interest in resuming the relationship though he hadn’t wished his brother’s cruelty on her. He wouldn’t wish it onanybody.
Gaius had always been resentful of Blue, of anything he had that Gaius didn’t. Success, focus, commitment —Gaius thought these things were something one either had or didn’t have, rather than things one would work for. Blue had no time for his feckless older half-sibling, and even less time for his stepmother. Hilary had made Blue’s mother’s life a misery while she was alive, and continued to besmirch her memory afterdeath.
He shook himself now. Later, he would have to see Gaius and not give away that he was in love with Romy. He had nightmares about Gaius setting his malevolent sights on the beautiful young woman in his arms. Of course, they were nothing to the other nightmares that had plagued him ever since the eight young women were brutalized in the city, since Yasmin Levant had died on his operating table. Shehadlooked like Romy, too much for Blue not to imagine it was his love bled out and dead in theO.R.
His arms tightened reflexively around her now and he pressed his lips to her forehead. Romy murmured in her sleep and opened her eyes, smiling up at him. He kissed her soft lips, treasuring every moment, before she sighed and went back tosleep.
God, I love you, piccolo.He hadn’t exaggerated when he’d told her he wanted to whisk her away to Italy, to show her every place he’d loved as a child, everywhere he had been at his happiest until he’d mether.
He closed his eyes and slept then, with that happy dream in mind, until the alarm went off at two p.m., and he and Romy made love again before finally dragging themselves from their beds to go celebrate Thanksgiving with their blendedfamily.
He had been followingArtemis for weeks now, and finally, she had led him to the Sasse family home. When he and Romy had been married, she had been cagey about where her mother lived, scared of him even on their wedding night. Dacre smiled to himself, remembering. She hadn’t wanted to sleep with him, and as she’d held out until they were married, Dacre had been certain of one thing. He would fuck Romy on their wedding night if it killed him … or her. It had taken his forearm across her throat before she gave in, tears pouring down her face as he forced her legsapart.
“You aremine,” he growled at her continually. He’d worn her down over the months to be able to get her to agree to marry him, destroying her confidence, isolating her from herfriends.
By the time of the wedding—fifteen minutes at City Hall—Romy had been a shadow of her former self. Dacre still wasn’t certain how he’d scared her so much that she’d actually agreed to be legally bound to him, but such was his power, he now remembered proudly. That, and keeping her away from her damn nosy family so they couldn’t runinterference.
She’d spoken her vows in such a quiet voice the judge had had to ask her to speak up twice, but when she had seen the barely concealed rage on Dacre’s face, she had quailed and recited them louder, but in a monotone. Dacre had seen the two witnesses, strangers he had wrangled from a bar, exchange concerned looks. The woman with them had slipped Romy her number.If you need anything. He knew Romy hadn’t called her. It would have made no difference if shehad.
Dacre killed the woman, Regan, a few weeks later, catching her unawares as she stepped out into a dark alley in the back of the bar where she worked to have a smoke. Hand across her throat, knife in her belly, one, two,three.
Dead.God, the feeling, the rush it gave him, and every single time he imagined his victim was Romy. His cock would harden and he would smell the blood, imagining it to be hers. That sweet gasp of shock and pain as the knife sliced through flesh was Romy’s … she never made any noise when they had sex, would never kiss him on the mouth. She didn’t fake orgasm and it made him crazy. When he’d found out she was back in touch with her family that had been the last straw and when the beatings hadstarted.
That last one, the final one, had begun when she was late home from the hospital and he’d been drinking. Such a normal thing, but he’d heard her coming up the stairs and for a moment, he had just been joking around, hiding behind the door to spookher.
He had hooked his arm around her neck and she had screamed in fright. Pulling away from him, she’d rounded on him with wide, frightened eyes, so beautiful in her terror, and told him she was leaving him for good. Dacre had lost it. He’d beat her mercilessly until she could no longer stand, blood pouring from cuts above her eyes, her nose broken, her mouth bleeding. He’d pulled her hair until she sobbed, then, as she slumped to the floor, he had stamped on her left thigh and they’d both heard the decisive crack as her femur shattered. Romy, choking on her own blood, could no longer scream forhelp.
Dacre had studied her dispassionately, then, grabbing a knife from the block, had raped his broken wife. He had intended to kill her, he knew that now, but when he’d heard his neighbors shouting, banging on the door, he’d chickened out. Instead, he’d called an ambulance for Romy, turning on the waterworks, apologizing over and over, begging her tolive.
At the hospital, the police had arrested him and he’d made a great show of not protesting. Secretly he had been waiting for his lawyer to tell him Romy was dead, that her injuries were too bad. The police had discovered who he was and their whole attitude had changed. His father had friends high up in the NYPD. He had been cautioned and told that if Romy pressed charges, they would have torevisit.
His mother and father had been beside themselves with grief. They had adored Romy and had thought she would be able to tame some of Dacre’s excesses. When it became clear Romy would live and that she would be throwing the book at him, Dacre’s father, Hubert, had paid off the people he needed to drop the charges in return for a plea deal. No jail time for Dacre. Romy and her family had fought back, but they were nomatch.
