Fighting Back E-Book

Scarlett Finn

• Herausgeber: Moriona Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

The fight was supposed to be over, but the Stark family aren't willing to let go of Dax yet.

Dax and Ivy Harrow have moved on and started a new life when out of the blue Brad Stark shows up and tells them that they have unfinished business.

Trying to protect Dax from the darkness of his previous life puts Ivy at risk from an unseen enemy. Swearing to ensure her safety, Dax must use every tool in his arsenal to identify and eliminate the danger.

But love alone won't be enough to save Ivy's life this time and to keep her alive Dax may have to surrender to the demons he wants to bury. The future that fate promised him will be lost unless he can stand up to his past. But sacrificing himself may be the only way to save the woman he loves.

Warning: Contains explicit language and imagery. Suitable only for ages 18 and over.

Leseprobe

Copyright © 2015, 2021 Scarlett Finn

Published by Moriona Press 2015, 2021

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

First published in 2015

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.scarlettfinn.com

RISQUÉ & HARROW SERIES INTERTWINED

Take a Risk

Fighting Fate

Risk It All

Fighting Back

Game of Risk

Read them in order for maximized reading pleasure.

For other titles from Scarlett Finn, please read on after the story.

Click here if you’d like to leave a message for Scarlett.

Enjoy!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER ONE

For weeks, the Stark family and everyone else from Dax’s former life were in his rearview. That changed fast. Standing in the parking lot of the apartment building he and Ivy lived in, he’d been talking to Blaser, his new friend and boss, when Ivy’s hand landed on his abs. His wife could cop a feel any time she wanted, but pleasure wasn’t her motivation, she wasn’t even looking at him.

Following her line of sight to find what had her transfixed, he was stunned to see a long black limo on the perimeter. Everyone else in the parking lot fixated on the mystery vehicle too. Except it wasn’t a mystery. Not to him. That car was there for him. Such a show of opulence meant only one thing: the Starks had come to town.

His assumption was proven correct when the driver got out and rounded the vehicle to open the back door. Brad Stark emerged, buttoning his suit jacket, Dax in his sights. Did he have to make such a fucking show? Despising being any part of a spectacle, he crossed the parking lot to put an end to it.

Still shielded by the open limo door, Brad stood with his head held high, proud of the garish display. Yeah, he loved it while Dax hated it, but he wouldn’t let that show. Why give him the satisfaction? Sauntering up, Dax paid no attention to the chauffeur standing at the head of the open door and came to a stop. With the car door in between them, he waited for Brad to explain himself.

“Care to take a ride?” Brad asked, without removing his sunglasses.

Since tracking Ivy down at the garage out back around a month ago, they’d lived in the building managed by the same guy who owned the garage. The gathering of residents outside were Brad’s weapon. Making a scene wasn’t part of his agenda, Brad knew that so had his request granted with a single nod. The driver moved aside to let him follow Brad into the car, then closed the door behind them.

Dax chose the seat opposite Brad, his back to the screen covered driver’s area. Neither of them spoke until the car got moving.

“You need to come home,” Brad said.

“If that’s why you’re here, save your breath and your gas,” Dax said. “The answer is no.”

“I didn’t ask. I told you, you’re coming home.”

“What are you going to do? Drive me to the airport? Sorry, no ID.”

“Brought a jet, it’s waiting on a private airstrip.”

His first thought was for Ivy. If he got on a jet with Brad, California would be their destination. If he didn’t get on the jet, Brad would keep coming until he got his way. His wife could get caught in the crossfire. Just because he would end up complying with the request didn’t mean he would give up without a fight.

“You have to give me something, a reason,” Dax said. “You and Tryst miss me so bad that you had to chase me down?”

Brad and Trystan Stark were Maurice Stark’s sons. They had been sort of surrogate brothers to him through the years. Sort of. There was more sibling rivalry than love or support.

“Mauri wants to see you, it’s important.”

“Sure it is,” Dax said. “I told you I didn’t give a fuck and that hasn’t changed. I’m not interested in Maurice Stark, or you and your brother anymore.”

“Still with Dune?”

“It’s Harrow,” Dax said, correcting Brad’s use of Ivy’s maiden name.

“Oh, that’s right, you married the woman you were supposed to be training for Trystan… You’re lucky he didn’t kill you for that stunt.”

In a different environment, Dax might have laughed. “If he wants to start something, he obviously knows where I am. Tell him to come visit. Ivy might even cook.”

The little prick’s balls on a skillet. Still counted, right?

“You are still with her,” Brad said. “Serg said you were, but I’ve got to say, I didn’t believe it.”

Serg was one of Mauri’s henchmen and a one-time close associate of his. “We’re married,” Dax said. “You think I’d have fucked around on the family if I wasn’t sure she was the only female I wanted?”

“Do you want us to pick her up? She can join us on the trip.”

“I haven’t said I’m going anywhere yet,” he said, clenching his jaw.

Maurice Stark exuded arrogance, he was a superior sonofabitch who taught his sons to be the same way. Brad managed it with eminence and authority, Dax did it with aloof indifference, and the youngest, Trystan, used overt ostentatious glitz to show the world he was better than everyone in it.

Truth be told, Dax wasn’t like the other two, he was an unofficially adopted Stark. When he was a kid, he’d been caught in the act of picking Mauri’s pocket. Instead of punishing him, Mauri took him home to be raised by the household staff.

At least that was the story Dax had been raised to believe for all of his thirty-three years, until Ivy Dune came in and turned his life on its head. After her, he started to ask questions of himself, he rebelled against who the Starks had conditioned him to be. In the process, Mauri revealed some truths he’d rather not know.

“Bruno bet money you wouldn’t come,” Brad said. “I took the bet. I knew as soon as you heard he’d bet on you being a coward, you’d leap onto a plane.”

Finding out that Bruno, Mauri’s contemporary and right-hand man, was his real father and the real reason that Mauri had taken pity on him as a kid, made him sick to his stomach. Grinding his teeth, he sought distraction in the world sweeping past the window.

“Why’d they send you?” Dax asked, still not tempted to return to the Golden State.

“Can’t trust Tryst to do anything,” Brad said. “The kid flipped out after you left and went on a binge. Mauri got Serg to track him down and drag him back to the mansion. He’s been pretty much locked up since.”

“He’ll be loving that,” Dax muttered.

Despite there only being a few months age difference between him and Trystan, he referred to Trystan as a child. The little prick still acted like a kid in a candy store as soon as drugs and sex were on offer.

“Mauri wants you back. Serg’s been watching you, we sent him ahead, so he could give us the skinny on what you’ve been doing. Working security at that strip joint, Risqué? Got your wife answering phones at an auto garage? Come on, you know you’re worth more than this. Come home.”

“Why? To jump back into enforcing? You want me running the operation again?”

“No one did it better.”

“I have a life here, a wife.”

“We’re not asking you to leave her behind, bring her. You can stay in the mansion together or move into your old place, I know you haven’t sold it yet.”

“Been a little busy.”

“Then it all works out,” Brad said, opening his arms. “If you’re planning on living here, you’ll need to come back home to sell your apartment. You’ll need to pack up and move, right? You can stay in the mansion while you do that.”

Sitting forward, Dax propped his elbows on his knees and looked Brad square in his eyes. “If you think that I’m going to trust you cock-sucking perverts anywhere near my wife—”

“Ivy’s safe,” Brad said and sighed in his typical condescending way.

Brad retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge like the objections bored him. Dax snatched the bottle and tossed it to the floor. Disrespect was the greatest enemy. The men stared each other down until Brad relented and spoke to reinforce his declaration.

“Mauri has told everyone to accept her as your wife. All the guys know it, so she’s safe.”

Mauri’s word was absolute, but Dax didn’t trust Brad any more than the motherfucker trusted him. “Like when you tried to take her from me at the beach house?” Dax asked, Brad’s bottom lip twitched. “You came to that party and tried to get her to leave with you. What was that about?”

“Good old-fashioned double cross,” Brad said. “Trystan wanted her, you had her, I was curious what all the fuss was about… I also had to test her obedience, to see how dependent on you she had become.”

“And were you surprised?”

“That she refused? No,” Brad said. “But I didn’t see the love. I didn’t see how dependent you’d become on her. You two played a good game.”

Dax wasn’t interested in impressing Brad. “Why now? Why should I come back when—”

“He’s sick, Mauri is sick… We should’ve figured it out when he pulled that trick about Tryst marrying Ivy, he’s known for months. It’s cancer, stage four, inoperable, he’s got about four months.”

Wiping a hand over his mouth, he sat back. Much as Mauri pissed him off during the Ivy situation, he was the closest thing Dax had to a father. No one wanted to receive news like this about family.

His hand slid off his thigh to seek out its mate, its partner, except it wasn’t there because his wife wasn’t present. Ivy had become his support. Without her here, he was lost as to the appropriate way to react.

“He wants to say goodbye?” Dax asked.

Mauri wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, but Dax had grown up listening to the man talk. Mauri counselled him on everything from girls to his fighting technique. The world wouldn’t be any worse off with one less crime boss in it, but he would be worse off without his mentor.

“He wants to settle old debts,” Brad said. “Least that’s what I think, he wouldn’t give me details… Since you left, he hasn’t been the same. I know he’s not happy with the way things ended. Come back, hear him out. Say goodbye to the man who made you who you are.”

He could refuse, but then he’d never know what Mauri wanted. “Okay,” Dax conceded. “Take me back to the apartments, we’ll leave in the morning.”

“We can go right now. We’ll get you on a plane and Serg can pick up—”

“Ivy won’t go anywhere with anyone except me. She’s a clever girl and my responsibility. She doesn’t trust you bastards any more than I do, which is why she won’t leave my side for a second. Take me home and come back in the morning.”

“If you’re just picking her up then why—”

“She doesn’t jump at anyone’s command. She’ll need time to warm up to the idea of going back to the family who tried to take over her life.”

That was an understatement. Ivy’s love for him was real. If he made a big enough deal of it, she would support him in anything. But going back to California, back to the family who had nearly torn them apart… that would take some persuasion.

CHAPTER TWO

Ivy put the last plate in the kitchen cabinet and glanced at the clock on the wall. Brad Stark coming back into their lives spelled trouble, no two ways about it. He’d crossed the width of the country to seek Dax out. The Starks were serious about wanting him back. It couldn’t be anything else, there was no other reason for Brad to be there.

If Trystan showed up, he’d have been hellbent on revenge. Brad wasn’t so shallow; he did his father’s bidding not his dirty work. If Maurice Stark wanted harm to come to her or Dax, minions would do it for him.

The image of Dax entering that car without looking back was imprinted on the inside of her eyelids, which was why she’d kept herself busy cleaning up their apartment.

Their new life was good, they were making friends, adjusting to life in their fresh environment. Dax had even found himself a couple of fights. Much as she didn’t like to see him come home bloodied, his love of the underground circuit was a part of who he was.

With Brad back and Dax willing to hear him out, their lives could be disrupted. If their new friends asked questions, answers wouldn’t be easy to give.

Wiping down the kitchen counters, she reminded herself how far Dax had come. Maybe he’d tell Brad to go to hell. If he did, there would be a major reward in it for him.

The living-kitchen area of their home ran the width the apartment, windows flanked the door. A narrow corridor at the rear led to the bathroom and bedroom. There wasn’t much left to clean up, keeping her mind off Dax was growing harder by the second.

The front door opened. Oh thank God. It was so difficult not to yelp in response to the relief that overcame her. Coming home so soon, when she’d half expected him to be gone for days, was a good sign. Going to the fridge to retrieve the dinner steaks, she’d be happy to forget ever casting her eyes on Brad again.

“I got these from a place Bri recommended,” she said of their female neighbor who she’d become friends with.

“That’s it?” Dax asked.

He came up behind her and slid a hand over her hip while the other scooped her hair out of his way. His warm lips touched the artery pulsing in her neck. Ignoring him, she carried on seasoning the steaks.

“The butcher is supposed to be amazing. The guys at the garage were jealous when I said I’d picked them up, and for what they cost…”

The hand on her hip carried on around to her belly, his other skimmed down her arm, and he pried her fingers away from the knife she’d just picked up.

“Dax,” she whined. When he unbuttoned her shorts, she smiled. “You have to be at the club in an hour, and I have to feed you before—”

“I stopped at Blaser’s before I came up, he’s giving us some time off.”

“For a belated honeymoon?” she asked, coiling her arm around her body to slip his belt from its restraining loops. “Somewhere hot and far away from these shores?”

“Actually, yeah, that’s one way to look at it. How does California sound?”

“Like my idea of hell,” she said, withdrawing her hand before it got to the good stuff. “You’re not much of a comedian, tough guy.”

“I’m not kidding. We’re going to California tomorrow.”

“Oh no we’re not,” she said.

“We are.”

With her hands on the counter, she used all of her weight to push her body back into his, giving her space to escape. After shoving him aside, she went to the sink and washed her hands, fighting to subdue the strength of her reaction.

Tossing the towel aside, she turned to face him. “You’re going back to them?”

“We,” he said, trying to encroach on her, but she removed herself from his path and headed into the living room.

“I am not going back to Maurice Stark. What about Trystan?”

“What about him?” Dax asked, his face set in a frown. “You’re not afraid of him, you’re not fucking afraid of anyone.”

“It’s the fucking part that I stick on. You didn’t tell me about what happened the night you walked away. At that midnight meeting. I can guarantee no one floated their congratulations, did they?”

“Maurice has taken care of it,” Dax said. “Brad told me that Maurice has told everyone about us and told them to keep their hands off you.”

“Oh well if Brad told you, I guess it’s okay.”

“Why would he lie?”

“Why would he tell the truth?” she demanded. “And Bruno, what about him?”

His eyes went one way, his chin went up and his tongue darted out to moisten half of his top lip. She didn’t like that tell, not one little bit.

“Forget about him.” Dax spoke in his company voice, in that blunt, intimidating tone, then stalked over to the living room window. None of his actions encouraged reassurance.

“There’s too much going on that you haven’t told me about,” she said. “I can’t go back there.”

“I can’t leave you here. If they want to divide us, me going to California leaves you wide open.”

“I thought you just said Maurice had taken care of things for us. Either you trust the guy, or you don’t.”

“Fine, if you want to stay here, stay here,” he said.

Whipping around, he began to march toward the bedroom, but she hurried over to block the head of the hallway. “You do still trust him? How can you—”

Grabbing her arm, he tried to wrench her aside. “Maurice never lied to me,” Dax said.

She got hold of him to keep herself in his way. “Maurice didn’t tell you that he took care of it, Brad told you he did. Do you trust him?”

“Brad? No. I don’t trust that bastard.”

“Then why should we get on a plane with him?” she asked, reaching up to cup his cheek. “He’s manipulating you. Whatever he wants you to do, it can’t be worth the risk, can it?”

“He doesn’t want me to do anything, Maurice wants to see me.”

“Then he can get his ass on a plane and come here,” she said, not wild about having Maurice Stark sniffing around in their new life.

“He can’t get on a plane.”

“Why not? Is immigration looking for him?” Her joke fell on deaf ears. He tried to look away again, so she slapped her other palm onto his other cheek. “What aren’t you telling me? How did Brad upset you like this?”

“He’s sick.”

“Brad?”

Dax shook his head. “Mauri is sick, he’s only got a few months.”

Lowering from her tiptoes, her hands fell away. In the same moment they lost eye contact, he put a hand on her elbow to move her aside. She let him walk away from her. If Maurice Stark was sick, it was understandable that Dax wanted to go see him. He had acted as a father to Dax, and Dax had always respected him.

Letting go of his relationship with Mauri was the hardest part of Dax’s decision to be with her. Something had happened at the midnight meeting on the night he left the Stark mansion for good. He had never told her about it, but she suspected more had been exchanged than her husband wanted to confess.

Mauri had thoroughly trained Dax to follow his orders without question. For twenty years, that was exactly what Dax did… until he got entangled with her.

Heading for the bedroom, she found him packing things into an open suitcase that lay on the bed. “Devil’s advocate,” she said, “what if this is all a ruse just to get you back there?”

“You’re not playing devil’s anything,” he replied. “You’re your own advocate.”

“Do you blame me? The last time I was with them—”

“Nothing evil happened, I kept you safe.”

“Yeah, the days I spent in the beach house basement were a ball, and Bruno—”

“You don’t have to worry about him,” Dax said, zipping the partially filled case. “And I promised you wouldn’t spend a night in that basement again, didn’t I? We’re going to my apartment in the city, you don’t have to go anywhere near the Starks.”

“You know it won’t work out that way,” she said. “I want to support you. We can’t show them weakness, we have to be united, or they’ll jump all over it and use it to their advantage.”

“So what’s your problem?” he asked. “You don’t trust me? You think I’ll hand you over to them if they ask?”

“You tried that before,” she said.

“I didn’t do it.”

“No, you let me walk out of your apartment and we were separated for seven weeks.”

“I stood up to them, that’s what happened at the midnight meeting. I told them to go to hell, that I wanted nothing to do with them.”

“They obviously didn’t believe you,” she said. “Otherwise, why are they here?”

“Mauri knew he was sick, he’s known for a while, but he didn’t tell anyone. It’s part of the reason he wanted to see Trystan settled before he…”

Dax wouldn’t break down; he wouldn’t reveal how losing Mauri would affect him. Mauri had been the only consistent man in his life. Mauri was the man that Dax respected above all others. She couldn’t ask him not to go. She could only hope it was true and that it wasn’t some elaborate plan to hurt them again.

“Did Bruno know?”

“I don’t know.”

Fixated on the case, he balled his fists at his sides, which was the closest Dax would get to telling her he was upset. Crossing the room, she rubbed his back and pressed her lips to the dragon tattooed on his arm.

“If you want to go, we’ll go,” she said. “But don’t forget what I said to you at the garage.”

“This is my last chance,” he said, bringing his eyes to hers. “If I fuck this up, you’ll leave me?”

“I’m getting used to you being the only man allowed to touch me. If Bruno or Trystan lay their hands on me again—”

“Listen to me,” he said. Twisting the quarter turn to face her, he took hold of her upper arms. “I know you won’t admit to being scared; you won’t give an inch. That stubborn, willful front of yours—”

“Uh, Kettle? Pot is calling.”

“I am not going to let them hurt you.”

“And how do I make you the same promise?” she asked. “They’re hurting you already and most of them are still a continent away.”

“I’ve been dealing with the Starks and their crew for twenty years, I can handle them now.”

“You dealt with them while you were working with them, you were all on the same side. Neither is true anymore. What if they set you up with Rita or Fifi or—”

“Other women? You have nothing to worry about, and you know it. I won’t bow to their pressure. We’re solid, babygirl. We’ve been together almost five months, and the way I feel about you hasn’t changed. In that garage I told you I wouldn’t let you escape again; you made your choice my prison or theirs.”

“Did you really think you were holding me against my will? Did you doubt how I felt about you?”

“I was used to Mauri being the one to tell me how it was. When he told me you were using me, it was easier to believe that and maintain the status quo than it was to believe you.”

“Because I wanted to wreck your entire world.”

With his index fingers, he touched her temples and traced down to move her hair back over her shoulders. “Which I don’t think I ever thanked you for,” he said.

“Thanked me?” she asked. “You’re pleased that I…”

“That we got together, yeah, I’m damn pleased about that.”

“Good, maybe you won’t fuck it up this time,” she said. “If we get to a point where you have to make a choice, I’d appreciate it if you let me know if that choice involves dropping me.”

“Not gonna happen,” he said, pulling her body into his to hold her in his arms.

“I should just ask you for a divorce now,” she said, her lips squashed into his torso.

“That’s not gonna happen either… You want me to pack for you?”

“No,” she said, pushing out of his arms and bending to unzip the case. “If I let you pack for me, all I’ll end up with is lingerie and flip-flops.”

“I trust you to handle it,” he said, smacking her ass. “I’ll get the steaks on.”

He left the room, and she flipped open the case, staring down at his strewn clothes. Going back to California and the Starks was going to test them as individuals and a couple. Passing that test wasn’t guaranteed.

CHAPTER THREE

Dax released the California apartment door, and it dropped back into the frame. A few feet in front of him, Ivy expelled a breath that made her body sag. Coming back to California might be a huge mistake. Maybe. Mauri knew everything there was to know about Dax’s past. If he ever wanted to find out who his mother was or how she ended up with Bruno, Mauri was his only hope to get that information.

Bruno couldn’t stand him, and the animosity was mutual. If Dax tried to open communication, Bruno would use the opportunity to taunt him. The information wouldn’t be trustworthy either, so what would be the point?

Ivy didn’t go further into the apartment, she just stood in the entryway. Putting down the suitcase, he curled his hands around her shoulders and squeezed. During the flight, she hadn’t said a word and he’d done his best not to talk to Brad either. Serg was on the flight as well. During the whole surreal experience, pretending to be buddies or happy in each other’s company was more than any of them could fake.

Serg used to be his number two, so he used that lingering façade of authority to question his former colleague on the other men and the state of the operation. Ivy kept her attention out of the window, her scowl fixed on the clouds outside the aircraft. He caught Serg glancing at her with either confusion or concern throughout the journey. The sentiment couldn’t reach too deep. After all, Serg had been sent to spy on them and report back to Brad. Serg’s loyalty went as deep as his master’s pockets.

Alone in his California apartment, he could put her at ease. Kissing her head, he bent his knees and traced his lips down her neck to her shoulder. Nudging the strap of her dress away with his chin, he insinuated his hand around to peel back her dress to expose one breast, which he quickly took into his palm.

The weight in his groin increased but when he tried to turn her toward the bedroom, she wouldn’t move. Was this some other marital tradition he didn’t know? He bent intending to scoop her up, but she pushed him off and walked away. Goddamn woman.

“I can get rid of that scowl if you loosen up,” he said.

Being short with her probably wasn’t fair. Her nerves were expected, but he was sick of seeing her spitting fury.

She went into the living room, so he followed. When she got into the middle of the space, she spun around, opening her arms. From that distance it was tough to tell, but he was sure her lower lashes were barricading a line of unshed tears. Shit. Crying was so unlike her that his own eyes widened, and he took a step back. How the hell did he…? Quelling his urge to retreat, he swallowed his discomfort and told himself to stay put, don’t run like a pussy, it was just a few lousy tears.

“The last time we were here… I walked away, Dax. You wanted me to walk away from you.”

He had refused the invite to the Stark mansion because he thought that coming back to the apartment would be better for her. Safe from the Starks. He hadn’t taken account of their past. This place was safe from others, but not safe from their demons.

“You want to check into a hotel?”

Tipping her chin toward the ceiling, she sighed. “Forget it.”

“No,” he said. “What do you want me to do? If you don’t want to be here, we’ll go somewhere else.”

“You don’t give a fuck?” she asked. “You really don’t think about what happened between us here?”

“I think about what happened in the bedroom,” he said.

“No, you don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Because when we had sex in there you thought it was the last time we’d ever be intimate. You were going to turn me over to them.”

“But I didn’t, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” she said, going to the window. “I’m sorry, I know… I know, I need to get over this.” Pulling the band out of her hair, she flicked it around her wrist in an expert move and ran her hands through her long, luxurious locks. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” he asked.

Ivy was an incredible woman, the best he’d met, but she was still a woman. One that often left him at a loss about what was going on in her head.

“Okay,” she said, turning away from the window. “Just okay.” Hooking her thumbs under the straps of her dress, she pulled it down, wiggling out of her panties in the same maneuver. “Come over here and fuck me.”

If that was a power play, it worked. He didn’t care she’d refused him in the hallway, not now she stood in his living room completely naked asking for action.

Shirking out of his clothes on his walk to her, he swooped down to pick her up. She coiled her legs around his waist and welcomed his mouth.

He started to take her to the couch, she broke their kiss and patted his shoulders. “No, there,” she said, pointing at the window she’d been looking out of a moment before.

Glancing at that spot and then back at her, he arched a brow. “You want me to fuck you against the window when it’s broad daylight outside?”

“There’s a curtain over it,” she said.

The flimsy gauze wouldn’t endure the experience or conceal it either.

Still, he didn’t care. Whatever her reasoning, he’d still get his.

She squealed and arched her body into his when her back touched the cold glass separated from her flesh by only the sheer material of the curtain. The investment in heat reflecting glass and the expensive air-conditioning in the apartment had been worth it, she couldn’t get any closer unless she crawled inside his skin.

“You want to put on a show, Minx?” he asked, avoiding her mouth when she tried to kiss him again.

Now that he had her propped on the glass, he could free his hand and curled it around her chin to push her head as far back as it could go. The strained column of her throat brought heat to the weight hanging in his groin. Damn, his wife was fucking how. Licking the length of her gullet, he kissed his way back down, boosting her weight higher. Her knees closed on his ribs, her chest level with his mouth.

Closing his lips around her nipple, he hummed his approval. The vibration brought an exhale of want from her lips. He knew that sound. Damn, he loved that sound. That wasn’t the only pleasure she had to give. The well of her moisture building on his torso between her legs proved, as always, it didn’t take much to get her going. Keeping her chin up, he kissed the dark peaks of her breasts and rubbed his face between them.

His wife’s cans could get a guy hard from twenty feet away, he’d caught glimpses of it happening. Only he was allowed this close. Possessing her was more of a turn on than the actual taste of her. This was his, she was his, and he wouldn’t let any guy threaten that again.

“Dax,” she whispered, tightening her legs, wriggling against him.

With his hands under her thighs, he backed off enough to let her body slide down the glass, straining the flimsy curtain at her back.

“You want something, Minx?”

“Only you.”

This time, she kissed him. The plunge of her tongue on his gave him the impetus to ease his hips away. With a guiding hand, he surged forward, pushing his cock into her. Her kiss froze to release a breathy squeak, curling his lips.

Taking over the kiss, he fucked his way into her. Grabbing her hips, he tilted them to slam himself in deeper, working her clit at the same time. Her nails, her arms, her need to cling betrayed her want. The circle of her arms around his neck got tighter, crushing her breasts into him. Fuck, yeah.

When he withdrew, she eased back but the head of his cock never left her. She pitched forward matching his fervor with her own. Ivy Harrow didn’t fuck around when it came to fulfilling herself.

The closer to orgasm she got, the faster and shorter her breathing became. Her head thumped back against the window, the kiss forgotten, her lips only moved to utter words of impending bliss. Fuck, she did things to him no other woman ever did before.

Driving on, he sped up, locking her pelvis on the glass, anchoring her for deeper penetration.

Pounding into the slippery passageway only open to him, he drove in, smacking the head of his dick deep. That sweet meeting spot where their bodies dovetailed together gave his life purpose. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he did her. Every time he slid into her was a gift, one he wouldn’t give up.

Gasping his name, she cursed and began to quake around him, squeezing his dick so tight he couldn’t move. To prevent himself from calling out, he locked his jaw while she milked the burst of his seed for every last drop, wringing him dry.

This was the first of many. He planned to continue fucking her for the rest of the day, into the night until she’d forgotten all about what happened the last time they occupied this apartment.

With her open palms, she lifted his head from where it rested on hers to look him in the eye. “Stranger,” she said, still panting.

“What?”

She smoothed his hair away from his forehead. “I won’t let them have you. I won’t let them take you away from this, I promise.”

There he was worried about her feeling like she was losing control of their relationship. All the time, she was formulating ways to hold onto him.

“I’m going nowhere, babygirl.”

Sliding out of her body, he carried her to the couch and laid her down then stood up to examine her flushed skin. Her neck was reddened where his stubble burned her. The rest of her was still in the midst of a fever from their union.

Her hand rested on her abdomen; his eye caught on the diamond. Kneeling beside her, he picked up her hand and kissed the stone. He’d never considered marriage before Ivy. The women in his past were never around long enough for him to develop any kind of feelings. Back then, his dedication was to the Starks and that had been enough for him.

“You’re not with me,” she said, sitting up to run her fingers into his hair again. “You get that glare on your face, and I know that you’re thinking about Mauri. Are you worried about losing him?”

“I worry about what he’ll take with him,” Dax said, sticking an arm under her legs, he lifted them to sit on the couch underneath. Dropping onto his side, he laid his spine along the back of the couch and kept Ivy angled against him. “And about what will happen to the organization when he’s not around.”

“You still care about that? About the Stark name?”

“Sure,” he said. “It’s instinct I guess.”

“What will happen? Brad is going to take over, right?”

“He should, least that’s what Brad’s always thought,” he said, fondling her breast.

“You don’t think he will?”

Dax shrugged and slid lower to suck her nipple into a tight pebble. “Bruno won’t just roll over; Brad won’t give him the same respect that Mauri does.”

“What about Trystan?”

“He’s already pissed,” Dax said. “After we left, he apparently went off on a crazy bender. Mauri’s had him locked up in the mansion.”

“Do you think they’ve…? Is there another woman for him? Has someone been abducted to take my place?”

“Maybe,” Dax said, having not considered that. “It’s a possibility, but…”

“But?”

“It didn’t work with you. Maybe Mauri re-thought their approach. I don’t know. I’ll find out when I go over there.”

“Which will be when?” she asked.

In time with her question, his cellphone rang.

The post-coital intimacy was shattered, and her expression cooled.

“It could be nothing,” he said.

Extricating himself from their snug position, he climbed off the couch to snag his jeans from the middle of the room.

Retrieving the phone from his pocket, he recognized the number and answered. “Hello?”

“Come over to the house,” Brad said down the phone line. “Mauri wants you to join him for dinner.”

“I’m having dinner with my wife, thanks.”

“Bring her,” Brad said. “Mauri’s invited you both.”

“No, I’m not bringing her over there. Sitting around the table as a happy family is a crock of shit. If Mauri wants to see me, I’ll come over, just me, for a sit down with him. I think we have a lot to talk about and we don’t need you bastards listening in.”

“Okay,” Brad said.

He hadn’t gone away to check anything with Mauri. The old man wasn’t dead yet and wouldn’t like Brad speaking for him. That meant either Dax was on speakerphone and Mauri was right there, or Mauri knew Dax would tell him where to stick his dinner invitation. He’d put money on the latter, Mauri wasn’t the type to skulk.

“I’ll be over in less than an hour.”

“You’re eager,” Brad said. “For a guy who didn’t want to come at all.”

“Eager to get it over with,” Dax said. “Tell Mauri to be ready.”

Hanging up, he put his phone on the dining table, between they door and the open plan kitchen.

Ivy sat up on the couch. “You’re going over there?”

“Yeah. Mauri wants to talk.”

“I have to shower,” she said, rising from the couch to head for the bedroom.

“You’re not coming,” he said, getting between her and the living room door.

“Why did I come all this way? I won’t sit here cowering. I remember exactly what happened the last time you left me here and went over to that house.”

She expected this to play out as it had before. He’d been a dick to her then. He’d departed the apartment secure in their relationship, in a playful mood after leaving her aroused and unsated. By the time he’d gotten back, to find her asleep in his bed, he’d been convinced she had played him just to ensure her freedom.

“Babygirl, things are different now. They’re not going to convince me you don’t love me now, are they?”

“I’m not afraid of them,” she said, her defiant eyes narrowing on his. “If they want a fight—”

“You go in there looking for a fight and you’ll create one. You need to be cool.”

“Act natural?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“After all they’ve done?” she asked. “I don’t think so.”

“If they hadn’t caught you in Vegas, this wouldn’t have happened. We wouldn’t have happened,” he said, dropping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close to kiss her.

“I know,” she exhaled onto him when he lifted his lips. “That doesn’t mean they should get away with their bullshit, does it?”

Her anger was understandable; the Starks hadn’t treated her well.

The vehemence in her tone concerned him so much he backed off. “Payback? Is that why you came? You’re gonna go on some crazy vengeance spree?”

“Why would vengeance be crazy?” she asked. “You told me it’s what Trystan thrives on.”

“Yeah, and look how that turned out for him,” Dax said, clutching her forearm when she tried to back off. “You listen to me, Mrs. Harrow, I take care of the lowlifes, okay? If there’s a score to settle that’s my damn job. You keep your sexy ass right here at home. You cook, you clean, you suck my cock, that’s your job.”

“Don’t,” she said, twisting her arm out of his grip. “I know you like to think reminding me of that chauvinistic misogynist you played in the beach house will calm me down—”

“That’s too many big words for a simple guy like me, Minx.”

“Stop it,” she said.

This depth of anger from her hadn’t reared its head for a while, not since the last time they were there.

Grabbing her wrists, he thrust them behind her back as he rushed her against the wall. Switching both wrists into one hand, he used the other to snatch her jaw and hold her head up.

“Do you prefer the alternative?” he asked, giving her a shake when she tried to wrestle away.

Eventually she surrendered to his grip, she had no chance of physically overpowering him, they both knew it. Ideas of revenge contorted her expression. Why the fuck hadn’t he seen it before?

“Let go of me,” she growled.

“If you don’t want to play, I have no choice, I’ve got to be serious. You prefer this? You’re not going to miss my point now.”

Squeezing her jaw, Dax forced her lips to part. His goal was to prevent her clenching her jaw in response to the fury that scalded her veins. But the temptation his action presented was too much to resist. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, pushing his kiss onto her. When he withdrew, he dragged his teeth over her bottom lip.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off me,” she mumbled.

Damn if she didn’t get his dick hard all over again. “You’re mine to touch,” he said. “You belong to me.”

“I’m your partner, not your possession, and you are not leaving me here alone.”

“I am. If I have to lash you to the wall, I will,” he said. “I can’t trust you now. When you get it in your head you want to start something, I’m the one who has to finish it. You see my dilemma?”

“You don’t trust me,” she said, trying again to writhe free of his control.

Consuming her mouth again, he kept going until she returned his kiss with the energy of the hatred she wanted to rain down on the Starks. In his opinion, this was a far healthier way to get rid of that venom.

Pulling her away from the wall, neither broke the kiss on their spinning journey toward the dining table. Anything they came into contact with clattered to the floor, but he didn’t care about objects. He cared about the pain this woman had suffered. His woman. The pain had thrust her into a frenzy of unhealthy anger that could get her hurt if he let her release it elsewhere.

Shoving her face down onto the table, he pressed her skull with the weight of his own. Her hair covered her face and fluttered out with each huffing breath she took. One of her cheeks was squashed into the table, he kissed the other through her hair, then her temple, and kissed above her ear before he spoke, resting his forehead on her soft hair, pinning her so she couldn’t squirm away from him.

“I own you, babygirl. You’re still my goddamn prisoner, and I will punish anyone who hurts you.”

“No,” she said, trying to look at him, but his weight locked her down. “I fight my own battles.”

“I told you,” he said, tightening his grip on her wrists, her chest was crushed to the table, but he kept her arms there too, opposite the way she faced. Forcing her legs further apart with his own, he pushed a finger into her still wet center and began to work it in circles. “You’ll never have to fear enemies while you’re under my claim.”