Mastered (The Enforcers #1) (35 page)

He knew he should cut her loose now. Do the right thing and push her away. Let her go before he ended up destroying them both. But at least the cold, ruthless man he had been for as long as he could remember hadn't disappeared—yet. And thank God for that, because as long as he remained a heartless, selfish bastard there was no way in hell he would ever let Evangeline go.

If that made him a complete asshole, then so be it. He would shield her from the reality of the world he lived in and make sure that his other life—the one she had no knowledge of—never touched her in any way.

He'd learned at a very young age that nothing is ever guaranteed and promises are rarely—if ever—kept. But he would make himself one promise right now, a risk he'd never before taken, because broken promises to others were bad enough, but breaking a vow to himself was unthinkable.

He wouldn't hurt Evangeline, nor would he ever lie to her. She deserved that much respect and it was more than he ever offered anyone else. He would do whatever it took to protect and shield her from the truth, the reality, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her when she demonstrated so much trust and faith in him.

Trusting others was an alien concept to him, but for her, he would try. He could learn. She'd already taught him much. That good did exist in a world that hadn't done much to prove that fact to him. She'd given him no reason to doubt her or her motives, and that alone was far more
deserving than what he currently offered her. Anything that money could buy, but his angel wasn't for sale. Couldn't be bought. What she wanted most was something he wasn't sure he could give her.

He trusted his men, as much as he was capable of trusting someone, but he wasn't fool enough to think they'd never betray him. Could he ever offer Evangeline something he couldn't even give men he considered brothers? He didn't have an answer to that yet, but he could damn well try.

He eased from the velvety clasp that clutched greedily at his dick, causing them both to emit a low moan after his remaining at maximum depth with no movement for a prolonged period of time.

She felt swollen and tight around him, his cock hypersensitive as her inner walls clamped down and squeezed as though protesting his retreat.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.

“No. Yes. God, I don't know. Just don't stop.”

Her voice was tight and hoarse and her hands flew to his shoulders, her nails digging deep, marking him as he'd marked her in the past. The visual of her brand on his skin catapulted him into a frenzy.

He began pumping into her, his pace frantic and yet she still urged him on. She arched, meeting every thrust. Her face was a wreath of agony and ecstasy.

“Get there, Angel,” he ground out even as he felt the first violent expulsion of his semen pulsing deeply into her pussy.

She cried out, her nails sharper, digging even deeper, breaking skin, and he reveled in the sharp bite of pain.

He pushed her harder and harder, faster and faster until the sound of flesh meeting flesh was loud in his ears. She screamed his name and shattered, wrapping her arms and legs so tightly around him that he could do nothing more than wedge himself as deeply as he could go and feel each and every pulse of his release jet into her body.

He lowered himself, burrowing his arms beneath her so that he held her every bit as tightly as she held him. Then he sagged, allowing his weight to cover her like a blanket, his dick still buried in her sweetness, each small aftershock as the last of his release was pulled from him quaking over his entire body.

He rested his forehead beside her temple and shuddered as her warm breaths puffed over his nape. He'd never felt so relaxed and at ease in his life even as guilt crept over him for allowing himself this selfish luxury when she'd given him everything while he still held a part of himself—his soul—from her.

But then she turned her head ever so slightly, just enough that her lips brushed the base of his hairline and she kissed him. One small, exquisite kiss that he felt to his toes. Her body still wrapped firmly around his tightened as she hugged him closer to her, if it was even possible that there was any space left between them.

“Thank you for giving me the gift of your pleasure tonight,” she whispered. “I wanted so badly to do something solely for you. To please you. To show you that you matter to me, Drake. If you ever feel as though you matter to no one, remember tonight and know that you are so very important to me.”

He couldn't respond for the knot that hastily clogged his throat. All he could do was squeeze her to him, not wanting anything to come between them in this moment. Not his fears, his guilt or remorse. Because nothing could ever make him regret this day. For one wonderful night, time had stopped, and he had seen heaven for the first time in his life. He had felt peace unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and he had learned what it felt like to be surrounded by the wings of an angel.

There was a glow surrounding Evangeline in the weeks following the night of Drake's decadent fantasy and the ensuing emotional revelations between her and Drake that couldn't possibly be overlooked.

The only shadow that clung to Evangeline was her continued estrangement from her girlfriends. In the beginning, she'd simply been so busy with Drake and focused on meeting his demands and glorying in the discovery of something new and wonderful that she hadn't given much thought to the passage of time or how she hadn't spoken to them for a prolonged period.

But then there was also the fact that none of her girlfriends had made the effort to reach out to her either. And that realization didn't sit well with her at all. If they were her friends, wouldn't they want her to be happy? And wouldn't they want to see that she was happy? How could they know if they didn't bother to even call or text her?

The argument always circled back around to Evangeline and her own culpability, and guilt would surge hard and strong because just as her girlfriends hadn't tried to contact her, she hadn't contacted them either.

The disconnect was more keenly felt when Drake announced he had
to go out of town on business overnight. Evangeline had expected that he would want her to accompany him since he'd said as much in the beginning of their relationship when he'd outlined the rules, but he'd told her he didn't want her to be bored senseless since he would be in marathon meetings and wouldn't have any time to spend with her. It would be a flying trip, leaving at noon the first day and returning early the next morning. He'd encouraged her to enjoy herself with the stipulation that one of his men accompany her anywhere she went.

She'd nervously called Lana, Nikki and Steph, thinking to catch up and bridge the gap between them, but her calls had gone unanswered and her texts had not been read. As a result, she opted to stay at Drake's apartment and not go out because her heart wasn't in it. She was afraid that she'd lost the friends she'd had since her days in small-town Mississippi.

That night she'd slept alone for the first time since she and Drake had become involved, and she discovered she didn't like it very much. She tossed and turned the entire night, latching on to the ridiculous hope that he would return earlier than expected. When the morning of his scheduled arrival dawned, she was hatching a half a dozen different ways of jumping his bones as soon as he walked through the door.

As it was, within minutes of his return home, to her chagrin, her mother picked then, of all times, to call. Evangeline had cast an apologetic look in Drake's direction, but he'd merely smiled and pulled her down into his lap as she talked to her mom—and dad—and had proceeded to distract her by nibbling on her neck and various other parts of her body until she was ready to throw the phone across the room and turn around and attack him.

He chuckled when he overheard her mother inquire about her “young man” and whether he was treating her well, and then to her surprise, he'd taken the phone from her and proceeded to converse with her parents for nearly half an hour.

She watched, pleased, as Drake spoke to them in an affectionate tone, relaxed and even smiling at intervals. Happiness tightened her chest and she snuggled into his side as he continued his conversation, assuring them that he was indeed taking very good care of their daughter but that she was taking even better care of him.

Everything about her relationship with Drake felt . . . right. No longer did she battle with the questions and fears that had plagued her earlier. The last few weeks had been nothing short of magical and she wondered if dreams really did come true. She chastised herself for being so prepared for when the other shoe dropped and it was all over.

It was time to stop being so afraid of what the future held and throw herself into the here and now and enjoy every minute of her time with Drake. Who was to say they wouldn't end up in a long-term relationship?

Drake had proved to her time and time again that she hadn't been wrong to give him her trust and faith. He had taken both gifts very seriously and had respected her offering, cherishing them—and her—as he'd promised to do.

She also no longer questioned whether she was good enough or asked herself what a man like him could possibly see in her. He was happy. She was happy. What else was important? No matter how she saw herself, Drake saw someone completely different, and he never passed up an opportunity to prove that to her.

She felt like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon after a long hibernation and the freedom from long-held and deep-seated insecurities was exhilarating.

Evangeline Hawthorn was . . . confident! She was beautiful! And worthy of Drake Donovan.

A ridiculous smile attacked her face and she was so encapsulated in the thrall of her dreamy thoughts that she hadn't even registered Drake ringing off with her parents, until his lips trailed a fiery line up her neck to nibble at her ear.

“My angel looks happy,” he murmured. “I hope my return has something to do with that.”

She turned and threw her arms around his neck, peppering his entire face with kisses.

“Oh, Drake, I
am
happy! I missed you terribly.”

He smiled indulgently at her. “I was only gone for a day, babe.”

“It was one day too long,” she said crossly.

He grinned. “Your parents are nice.”

The swift change in conversation made her pause and then she returned his grin, her cheeks widening until they nearly cracked.

“You like them.”

“Yes,” he said seriously. “They are good people.”

Remembering that it was doubtful Drake had had much experience with good people, she regarded him with the same seriousness.

“They're the best kind of people,” she said huskily. “I'd do anything in the world for them.”

“They're very lucky then.”

She reached up and lay her palm over his bristled, unshaven cheek.

“I'd do anything for you as well, Drake. I hope you never forget that.”

He captured her hand and dragged it over his lips so he kissed the inside of it.

“Oh you've proved that, Angel. Over and over. I doubt I'll
ever
forget it.”

He followed his statement with a slight wince and a sigh.

“Is something wrong?” she asked anxiously, her earlier euphoria dissipating as she took in Drake's grim expression.

Drake stared at Evangeline, hating what he was about to do. Deceive her. Or rather lie by omission. Make something appear as something else altogether. When he'd promised himself he'd never lie to her or hurt her. And if he didn't handle this just right, not only would he be lying to her, but he could also hurt her if she misconstrued his reasons.

Knowing that the longer he remained silent and the longer he dragged this out, the worse it would appear, and that it could explode in his face, he kissed her and allowed sincere regret to show. He pulled her down onto the couch so they were seated next to each other.

“I know tomorrow night is our night to eat in with you cooking, but I have a very important business meeting here. I'll be entertaining my associates in our home. Unfortunately it's unavoidable, and I promised you that I wouldn't miss our dinners in unless absolutely necessary. This is one of the rare times when it's absolutely necessary to meet where we can be assured quiet and privacy.”

Her brow furrowed in puzzlement as she processed his vague statement, and he didn't miss the disappointment in her eyes nor her attempts to mask her reaction by quickly regaining her composure.

“I understand,” she said, only the slightest tremble in her voice to reveal her emotion. “Maybe we can have a do-over later in the week.”

Damn but he hated what came next. How to ensure she wasn't present during his meeting without it being obvious he didn't want her there? He'd broken one of his promises—a
vow
—he'd made to himself, something unthinkable, by lying to Evangeline. He would not, under
any
circumstances, break the other promise he'd made that she never be touched by the alternate shadowy life he led.

“I know you didn't go out last night, so I thought perhaps you'd want to go out on the town tomorrow night. You name it and I'll make it happen, Angel. Whatever you'd like to do. Quite frankly the meeting will be boring as hell, and I don't ever expect you to have to suffer strangers and awkwardness in your own home. And you damn sure as hell won't be expected to please six arrogant bastards who will all be dick-sizing one another during negotiations.”

He didn't have to fake the pissed-off, inconvenienced act for Evangeline, because he was both. If so much wasn't riding on this goddamn deal, he'd tell every one of them to go fuck themselves. He never opened
his personal residence to anything business related. This was his only sanctuary. And now it was Evangeline's, and it pissed him off that he had to, in a nutshell, kick his angel out of her own home for the evening and play nice with men he wouldn't ever want within a mile of his woman.

She bit into her bottom lip, hesitating, obviously immersed in thought. He wished to hell he could read her right now. Ninety-nine percent of the time, she was utterly transparent, her eyes a window to her soul, but this was the one percent of the time when he had no clue what she was thinking or feeling.

He had to hold back her name and the question that would most assuredly be in his voice if he uttered it. Because he knew he would sound uncertain, and he had to play this just right. It was simply a business meeting, and he was offering her the city on a silver platter for the night. He didn't need to sound like he had a reason to be worried about what she was thinking.

“Tomorrow night is the girls' night off,” she said softly. “I'd like . . . I need to see them. We haven't spoken. Not since the night Steph came over here. I—we've—let it go on too long. I need to talk to them. I tried to call them while you were out of town. I thought we could grab something to eat, catch up. But I never heard back from them.”

Drake's lips thinned slightly. Damn it. He wasn't keen on a reunion with her girlfriends. Not if there was the possibility of them filling her head with a bunch of shit. But at the same time, it offered him the perfect out. She would be happy and he would effectively keep her separate from his business.

“You should go, then,” he said gently.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You don't mind?”

He pulled her further into the crook of his arm so she was nestled firmly against him.

“It's obvious that your estrangement is making you unhappy,” he said.

He stroked his palm over her cheek and then cupped her jaw, feathering his thumb over her satiny skin.

“I want you to be happy, Angel. So if seeing your girls will do that, then I'll have a man take you over tomorrow evening.”

“Should I plan to stay over with them?” she asked, a little hitch in her breath.

At that he frowned. “Hell no. I'll tell Maddox to have you back by eleven and if for some reason my meeting goes longer, I'll let him know, but you
will
be back here afterward. One night away from you was enough. No way in hell I'm going to spend another without you so soon after being away this time.”

She smiled at that and then gave him a mischievous grin.

“So tell me, do you have to call Maddox right this minute? Or can it wait for a little while?”

He arched one eyebrow, regarding her suspiciously. “That entirely depends on what you have up your sleeve, you little imp.”

She rose up and arched over him, straddling his lap, looping her arms around his neck before sliding downward to the floor until she was kneeling between his thighs, her hands fluttering to the fly of his slacks.

“Oh, I don't know. For as long as I have time to welcome you back home properly?”

She licked her lips even as she began unzipping his pants.

His eyes glittered and became half-lidded. “Well, if that's the case, then take your time, Angel. I assure you, Maddox will wait. I, on the other hand, can't. So by all means, welcome your man home properly.”