I put my forehead to hers and inhaled the breaths she was letting loose. Her chest—the parts that peeked out of the shirt—were moist with sweat, and the friction of her hot skin was sending me reeling. My dick was slick with her, sliding in and out faster with her urgent hands pulling me in harder.
Fuck, she was so damn needy, and it was turning me on. I wasn’t going to last long. Grabbing her thighs, I rolled us over so that she was on top. Her shirt had fallen off one shoulder, and one breast lay bare. As much as I wanted to touch her, I just watched her move. Holding onto her h*ps only, I kept my eyes glued to her grinding on me, the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, and her exposed skin glistening with sweat.
“Oh, God!” she cried out, riding me faster.
I groaned, shutting my eyes. “Come on, baby.”
The tingles spreading throughout my body weren’t going to hold off. I was too damn turned on, and she was too damn hot.
“Madoc.” Her pained whisper shot right to my heart, and I arched up off the bed, pushing up into her as hard as I could.
“Ahhh.” And she came apart, jerking and moaning, and I let go as well, releasing everything inside her and thrusting up again and again.
Christ. My eyebrows remained pinched and my eyes shut. My body was anything but relaxed right now.
I’d never come inside of a woman without a condom before.
Except Fallon. Years ago.
No wonder the consequences could be bad. There was always a price on something that felt that good.
Fallon collapsed on my chest, and for a while, we just stayed silent and tried to calm down.
But then she whispered into my neck. “Fallon Caruthers, then.”
And I flipped her on her back, ready for round two.
• • •
We stayed tangled together in the hotel room for the next twenty-four hours, finally pulling ourselves out of each other’s asses—no pun intended—to have a conversation.
“Well, I do have a little money. My father pays my tuition up front and puts extra funds in my account for spending money. It’s not much but enough to set up an apartment.”
I kept my lids shut but gave her my attention. “What about your tuition for next year? Won’t you need the money for that?”
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds but then answered. “We’ll figure it out.”
I had to chew the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling, but it didn’t work. The rumble escaped my chest, and I let out a soft laugh.
“What?”
I sighed, still not looking at her. “Fallon, baby, we’re fine. We will have no money problems if our parents cut us off,” I finally told her.
“What do you mean?” Her tone was more abrupt.
“I mean we’re fine.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
When she said nothing and didn’t press, I opened one eye and peered at her staring at me over her laptop. She looked like she was about to start boiling.
I exhaled an annoyed breath and leaned on my side, propping myself up with my elbow. Grabbing her laptop I logged in to my account and then turned the laptop back to her, showing her the screen. I didn’t wait to see her expression before I lay back down and closed my eyes.
“Oh, my God,” she exclaimed quietly. “Is this . . . your savings account?”
I grunted.
“All of this money is yours?” she pressed, sounding like she didn’t believe me. “Your dad doesn’t have access to it?”
“Most of the money in there has nothing to do with my father. My mom’s family is wealthy in their own right. She gave me my inheritance when I graduated high school,” I explained.
I rarely touched the money in my bank account. My father made sure all of my expenses were paid, and I had a credit card for things I didn’t have cash for. He liked to see what I was up to, so the credit card statements came in handy to him when he wasn’t around to see what I did with my days. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust me. He did. I just think looking at my purchases made him feel like a part of my life and let him feel like he was in control.
Oh, look. Madoc got gas at 8 a.m. on a Saturday. Must be coming home from a party.
Oh, look. Madoc bought car parts. He must have a race coming up soon.
Oh, look. Madoc went to Subway. Glad he’s eating.
“Your mother gave an eighteen-year-old this much money?”
I snapped my eyes back open, coming back to the now.
Looking over at Fallon, I scowled with mock hurt. “Hey, I’m trustworthy. You know that.” I laughed at her arched eyebrows and continued. “My father also gave me a third of my trust when I started college, so that’s some of the money in there, too. I get another third when I graduate and another third when I turn thirty. But even if I don’t get those two-thirds, obviously, we’re going to be fine.” I waved my hand at the laptop, referring to the balance in my account. “You’ll go back to school next Monday, I’ll withdraw from Notre Dame and transfer, and we’ll get an apartment here in Chicago.”
I locked my hands behind my head and waited for her to say something. It made me feel happy she actually risked giving up her security for me, but that would never have to happen.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “You’ve had this worked out all day, haven’t you?”
“Of course, I have.” I flashed her a boyish smile. “You think I’d give myself a wife to take care of and not have a plan?”
Leaning up, I slipped my hand around her neck and brought her in. But as her eyes closed for the kiss she was no doubt expecting, I flicked her nose with my tongue instead and plopped back down, closing my eyes.
“Just don’t try to divorce me and take half,” I threatened.
“Ugh, that was gross,” she whined, probably wiping my spit off her face.
I heard the laptop close and the bed move as she climbed on top of me, straddling my waist. I went to place my hands on her thighs, but she grabbed them and pinned them to the side of my head.
“Nope.” I shook my head. “I’m exhausted. I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”
But it was too late. Her weight on me and her heat on my stomach already had me rolling my h*ps into hers as her moist breath sent a silver shot down to my groin.
Shit.
I was fully hard now, and I needed some damn sleep. Didn’t want sleep but needed it. Her mouth darted up to my neck, and she sunk her teeth in. I opened for her.
“Baby.” I choked out a groan. “I never want to leave this room. Take my T-shirt off your body. Now.”
Pounding on the door sounded from the other room, and we both jerked our heads toward the noise.
“Madoc Caruthers?” a stiff voice called.
Fallon turned her wide eyes to me, and I sat up, setting her to the side of the bed.
Walking toward the door, I shook my head in dawning realization. I should’ve had Jared register the room. I’d been smart enough not to use my credit card, but I never thought my father would take the time to call the hotels of Chicago looking for me.
“Yes?” I asked, opening the door and then immediately dropping my f**king jaw.
The cops? What the hell?
“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” a lean black officer said with his hand resting on his baton. I didn’t take that as a threat. Maybe I should? The other cop was a female. Middle-aged with red hair.
“What’s this about?”
The lady cop tipped her chin at me. “Is Fallon Pierce with you?”
My heart started thumping. What now?
“Yes,” I finally answered.
“Your stepsister, right?” the male cop confirmed.
I hooded my eyes and sighed. “For the moment, yes. Our parents are getting a divorce.”
“What’s going on?” Fallon asked, stepping up to my side. She was dressed in jeans and her white blouse from yesterday tucked in. All of the clothing that had been sitting in a ball on the floor for the past twenty-four hours. She also had her glasses on.
“Are you Fallon Pierce?”
Fallon crossed her arms. “Yes.”
“Your mother reported you missing yesterday morning,” Redhead explained. “She says she was threatened by Mr. Caruthers, claiming he said he was going to . . .” She looked at her notes and continued. “‘Put her through a wall.’ And then you were taken.”
Both cops looked at me, and I wanted to laugh. Fallon turned to me with a smirk on her face, and as serious as cops visiting your door is, we started laughing.
The officers exchanged a look as my chest shook and Fallon covered her smile with her hand.
“Did you threaten Mrs. Caruthers, sir?”
Which Mrs. Caruthers? I felt like asking, but I resisted. No one would know about our marriage yet, and our parents had to find out from us and no one else if we were going to be taken seriously.
“Officers,” I assured, “these are family issues. I would never have touched my stepmother. Fallon is here of her own free will, and there is no problem.”
“Mr. Caruthers,” the male cop started. “We know who your father is—”
But then all hell broke loose. A woman and her cameraman rushed up behind the police officers and stuck a microphone between them in my direction. I reared back, and Fallon grabbed my hand.
“Madoc Caruthers?” the woman shouted, stumbling into the cops. “Son of Jason Caruthers? Are you having an affair with your stepsister? Her mother claims you kidnapped her?”
My f**king heart lodged like a baseball in my throat, and I couldn’t breathe.
Motherfucker! Shit!
I swallowed, looking down at Fallon.