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I reach forward and glide a soft fingertip across the battered planes of her lower back. She tenses, and I look at the back of her head. Who did this to her? What the fuck do I care? She’s a whore with a mouth on her. Doesn’t mean she should be fucking beaten . . .
I quickly take back my hand and swing my legs off the bed, sitting up. I need to get in the gym and burn off some of this . . . weirdness.
As I stand, my phone lights up on the nightstand. It’s 6 a.m.
Swiping it up, I pull on my boxers. “Morning, Perry.”
“Please don’t hurt her.” He gets straight to the point, not ashamed to hide his feelings now he’s not in public. “She’s delicate.”
I have to force myself not to laugh. Delicate? She might look it, but the woman in my bed is as hard as nails. A warrior. That bruise, though. Adams? Did he do it? The American public think he’s the perfect, enviable family man, but I know otherwise. He’s a shrewd businessman, isn’t scared to dip a toe in the darkness to get what he wants, hence his association with me. But would he beat a woman? I don’t think so. “Don’t tell me what to do, Perry. Besides, look at it like this. I’m doing you a favor. ”
“How?”
“You want to be mayor. I want you to be mayor. Parading around with your whore a few paces behind in public, Perry? That’s a sure-fire way to fuck it all up, you dumb arse.”
“I’m careful.”
“Really? How do I have her then?”
He’s silent for a few moments, probably regretting calling me now, at the same time wondering how the fuck he got in this mess. “It’s just . . . she dreams.” He breathes out. “I don’t know what about, but she’s restless.”
Restless? “She slept pretty soundly in my bed last night,” I say, reaching the door and swinging it open. I look back over my shoulder and find she’s sat up in bed, the sheets a messy puddle around her waist. She’s watching me through her sleepy eyes. “Are you going to want your precious girl back once I’ve pinned her down and fucked every hole she has?” Rose’s face doesn’t falter, but Perry gasps, and I smile wickedly, knowing he believes a callous arsehole like me is capable of such a thing. I’m not. It’s the only thing people have wrong about me. I would never take a woman against her will. I’m depraved, but I’m not a fucking monster. “You know, I’ve had a change of heart,” I go on. “Take your time with the marina. I’ve got something to keep me busy.” I hang up and back out of the room, keeping my serious eyes on hers until the wood comes between us.
* * *
I hit the hotel gym, but not before the whole place has been cleared out by my men. Generally, most people don’t need to be asked to leave. They take one look at me, then my entourage, and decide they’ve suddenly burned enough calories for the day, making a swift exit. Then you get the odd twat, like the man currently using the bench press. As if to make a point, he adds a further 50 kilos to each end of the bar before resuming his reps. And to make my point, I pull the Glock from Brad’s holster and aim it at his head. “I work out alone.”
Poor bastard nearly crushes his big, meaty chest when he loses his focus, almost dropping the bar mid-rise. For a giant, he moves fucking fast, shutting the door behind him. “Better.” I hand Brad back his gun and pull my T-shirt up over my head as my men move to all the doorways, ensuring my peace is maintained. “Joining me?” I ask my right-hand man, taking the fifties off the bar that the gorilla just added. I’m strong, but I have no point to prove.
Brad motions down his suit. “I worked out at five. I thought you’d skip it this morning given the circumstances.”
I lie on the bench and grasp the bar, lifting it from its resting place, straightening my arms. “And what circumstances would they be?” I take the bar down steadily, appreciating the instant strain on my tight muscles.
Brad is standing over me now, looking down at me as I push out fifteen reps, each one smooth and consistent. “Fresh pussy in your bed.”
“I didn’t fuck her.”
“Why?” His question is quick, and it catches me off guard.
I replace the bar and take a breather. “She’s not here for my pleasure.”
“But it wouldn’t hurt to take some, right?”
“I don’t want any.”
“Do I look like I’m buying that?”
“You should.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll put a bullet between your motherfucking eyes.” I take the bar again as Brad chuckles. He doesn’t stop laughing the whole time I’m pushing out another fifteen reps.
