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There were skipped meals, missed field trips, and a period of time when we lived in our dad’s car. Thankfully that was when Wynter was too young to remember, and Snow hadn’t been born yet.
I’m a selfish fuck in most parts of my life. I like what I like, and I live my life the way I want to, but I will always give back to my community because when we were in need, places like The Chicago Center for Youth were there for us. I came to a place just like this after school every day while my parents were doing what they had to do to put food on the table.
My hand is still held in front of me, waiting for Emerson to shake it. I wonder idly if John has noticed the immediate connection sizzling between us, or whether he is completely oblivious, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Emerson long enough to check. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say he’s in denial about his little girl growing up and doesn’t realize that just the sight of his daughter is enough to make me need to rearrange my pants.
Her eyes are the most stunning shade of green I have ever seen in my life, so deep I’m sure they could pass as emeralds. Her auburn hair is loose over her shoulders and I long to hold it in my fist as I fuck her from behind, slamming into the paradise she has hidden between her legs.
Filthy images filter through my mind, the idea of corrupting the innocent girl in front of me almost enough to make me come in my pants. Innocence radiates from her like it’s radioactive. She may not be untouched, but she’s completely inexperienced with the darker tastes in life.
Fuck. She is stunning. And she would look all the more pretty tied to my bed with black tear stains down her cheeks as I tortured her, bringing her to the edge of pleasure over and over again but never letting her fall over the edge. Flipping her over and spanking her until her ass turned the most delectable shade of red before starting the whole process again. I have to hold back the groan that rises in my throat at the thought.
“I won’t bite.” Hard. The word remains unspoken as I push my hand closer to Emerson, but it’s a lie, regardless. I would kill to sink my teeth into her silky skin, to see my marks marring her milky flesh.
Emerson’s eyes shoot to mine and her cheeks heat. The thing about being so pale is that there’s no hiding, and I fucking love it. I don’t ever want my woman to be able to hide from me. Not her pain. Not her pleasure. Not even her embarrassment. Like I said, I’m a selfish bastard and I want it all.
My woman… where the fuck did that come from? I don’t claim women. At least not for more than a night, maybe a weekend if they really pique my interest. But never for an extended period of time.
Emerson’s hand finally slips into mine, distracting me from where my mind threatens to go. The moment our hands touch, an electric current runs between us, the force of which almost makes me lose my balance. I can’t remember ever having a reaction like this to another person, and that thought is unsettling as its meaning washes over me.
Our eyes lock and for the first time since I caught sight of her across the room, I notice the dark smudges under her eyes. It looks like she hasn’t slept in a week, and a streak of protectiveness comes to life in my gut. The emotions this woman is dragging from my cold, black heart should have me running out the door, but I’m intrigued. I want to know more about the beautiful creature that has my mind, body, and soul curious, not just my cock.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Saint James.” Emerson smiles politely, but it’s fake. The sadness lurking behind the vibrant green calls to me. It begs me to take it all away, and for some reason, I want to.
“Rayne. Please.” There are so many things I would like to hear her call me. Sir. Master. Daddy. But my name will do… for now at least.
“I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you here.” John grins and I immediately drop Emerson’s hand. The moment our skin connected, the rest of the world disappeared, her dad included. How long had we been standing there, staring at one another with our hands linked?
Emerson looks startled as if the same spell that cast over me had charmed her too and had been broken just like mine was.
“I’m excited to be here,” I tell him. Usually when those words leave my mouth, it’s a lie, nothing but a nicety, but not this time.
“When will you be starting with us, Mr.… Rayne?” Emerson asks nonchalantly, as if she’s indifferent. But that’s not the case. No, Emerson is anything but disinterested. She is just as affected by me as I am her, whether she wants to admit it or not.
“Tomorrow.” I smile.
John’s head whips to me and I know it’s because I told him I would start next week before his daughter walked into the room and became the object of my affections, but I ignore him, barely even glancing in his direction before returning my gaze to Emerson.
She nods once. “I’ll have some paperwork for you to fill out, just for health and safety, those kinds of things.” Her eyes are looking anywhere but at me, and something deep inside me, the depraved part that can’t wait to corrupt the little lamb standing in front of me with innocence dripping from her, relishes in putting her on edge.
“Sure.” I adjust my suit jacket to give my hands something to do, to keep myself from reaching for her just to feel the electricity again.
“Em has been working so hard on our charity gala. There are still some tables available if you’d like to come. I know you’re a busy man, and we’re already so grateful for you volunteering your time.” John smiles.
Is that why she looks so tired? Because every spare moment is spent trying to raise the money to keep this place open? I look around at the gym we’re standing in, taking it in for the first time since I walked in. The basketball court needs to be re-polished. The paint on the walls is cracked and aged. The equipment looks like it’s about twenty years past its use-by date. The entire place needs work.
I look to Emerson just in time to see her roll her eyes, and a smirk tugs at my lips. I knew she would be sassy. Under the polite exterior is a firecracker, and I can’t wait to set her off. “How many tables do you have left?” I ask, pulling my phone from my jacket pocket and shooting off a text to Wynter to let her know what I’m doing. She handles the finances for the legitimate side of Frost Industries, including all charitable donations.
“Three,” Emerson replies.
I nod. “I’ll take them.”
John stands there for a moment and stares at me, like he thinks I’m joking, but when I don’t laugh, his face turns serious. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. My brother and sisters have plenty of friends who love an excuse to dress up.” I shrug and look to my phone when it buzzes with my sister’s response.
Since when do you get involved in charities? Isn’t that mine and Snow’s job?
I’m helping. Thanks sis.
