Slow Release (Ebony and Ivory Book 1) (11 page)

Damon

As badly as I wanted to lay the blame for the danger Skye was in solely at the crazed stalker’s feet, I couldn’t help but shoulder some of the responsibility.

In my arrogance, I’d done some pretty shitty things in the past. Though I was always honest about avoiding emotional connections, I should have been aware most women don’t just fuck without forming some kind of bond.

It was true they were using me too, but now it might be that my past sexual escapades were putting the one woman I do love in danger. It seemed so unfair that Skye should be punished for things I did before I met her. I really believed that this stalker she was being forced to deal with was an enemy of mine, not hers. I couldn’t imagine anyone having that kind of vendetta against a woman who’d just made her debut on the modeling scene. Though models could be vindictive, most just didn’t have the resources to set up this elaborate of a deceptive ruse.

How fucked up was it that the one time in my life I was willing to settle down with a woman, it was being sabotaged by some crazed stalker? I couldn’t count how many times I had tried to figure out who the perpetrator was. I was ashamed of the number of enemies I had, making it impossible to nail it down to just one. I felt like, because of the viciousness of the letters and packages being sent, that it had to be a woman. When it came to deception and vengeance, women far outmaneuvered men. However, I always came back to the same question. What woman did I know who had the means and resources to pull something off this calculated?

Part of me was tempted to give Skye an out just to keep her safe. I could always offer her the option of going back to Haiti. I could still take her and her family under my wing from a distance.

With all my responsibilities here in the states, there was no way I could go with her if she chose to go back though. Was I being selfish by keeping her here when I knew she was in danger of being hurt by one of my enemies?

As much as my head told me the safest thing to do was to send her back to Haiti and get her out of harm’s way, my heart wasn’t listening. Just the thought of not having her body next to mine in bed at night caused a violent twisting in my gut and was more than I could tolerate. I would just have to protect her here.

This was the first time I could ever remember being in physical pain at the thought of losing a woman. I was a man undone. I didn’t care how crazy I had to be to keep her. I would do whatever it took.

If it meant I had to stalk her myself, obsessing over her and never letting her out of my sight, then fuck it. I was crazy. I knew in my soul that as crazy as I was to keep her, I would be even more insane if I ever lost her. The more I agonized over my decision, the more I realized the crazed stalker and I had much more in common than I cared to admit. We were both obsessed with the same woman, and we were both willing to cross the lines of sanity if it meant having her.

Skye

There was something I didn’t reveal to Damon and Jerome when we had the discussion in the office, and the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. I still had a father out there somewhere who’d gone AWOL. What if he got wind of my newfound success and decided he wanted a piece of the pie?

When you came from nothing, money did strange things to a person. It changed you, and no one was immune to the lure of it. It could be for better or worse, but once you were tempted with the prospect of attaining it, you changed. If you came from poverty, it was easy to justify using deception to obtain it. My father had never been a man of high morals, and I wouldn’t put it past him to try and strong arm me to gain access to my newfound success.

I wasn’t exempt from the changes success brought; I can already see how money has changed me. I made a conscious decision to let it change me for the better by helping my mother and younger brothers and sisters.

What if my father got wind of just how well off my boyfriend was, and he planned to use me to get to Damon’s millions. The thought that I could be the cause of Damon being in any kind of danger appalled me.

I wasn’t in the habit of using anyone to get anything. I had worked for a living all my life. I didn’t mention my biological father was a possibility because, to be honest, it was embarrassing.

The whole time I was growing up, he treated us like we were dirt. I remembered how, when he was there, he drank away every dime of money my mother made cleaning rich people’s toilets. I could still vividly remember all the nights she had to go down to the bar and pull him off some hussy he was buying drinks for with her hard-earned money.

The best thing he had ever done for us was walk out of our lives. If he was trying to come back for greedy gain, slithering around like the snake he was, I was going to be beyond pissed.

I was embarrassed that my worthless father might be the one causing problems. Even though I was ashamed to tell Damon what I suspected, I needed him to find out where my father had gone when he disappeared. I felt like I was forced between two decisions, and neither was one I wanted to make.

I would keep my suspicions to myself for now and try to do some research on the Internet. The last thing I wanted any man to think was that I was using him for money. I would get a job flipping burgers before I gave up my dignity. I have always been independent, and loving Damon wasn’t going to change the way I was innately wired. If I could find out where my estranged father was without Damon’s help, I would. I didn’t want him sinking thousands of dollars into hiring a private investigator if I could do it by myself.

The Internet was a wealth of information, even for a novice such as myself. The biggest problem was that it was entirely possible that my father could be living on the streets. If he’d dropped out of society, I might not be able to find him. Regardless, it couldn’t hurt to try. I settled it in my head. I would look for him on my own and see what I came up with so I didn’t have to use Damon’s resources yet again. He’s done so much for me already—things I could never repay him for—and I wasn’t going to abuse the privilege of having access to a very powerful man, no matter how readily available and willing he was to help me.

Damon

She was keeping something from me, and I had every intention of finding out what it was. The last thing I was going to let happen was for her to distance herself from me. Being in a monogamous relationship might be new territory for me, but I was no stranger to distance and what it took to obtain it. I was a master at erecting barriers between those of the opposite sex and myself. Though I didn’t think she was being malicious, I did feel like she was intentionally keeping something from me. Secrets were the first step in creating a lack of trust, and I wouldn’t allow anything to sabotage our new relationship.

In order for us to be successful, we needed to be honest with each other, and I was getting to the bottom of this now. I reached over and used the speaker to call her into my master bedroom.

I stood as she entered the room, purposely stalking my way over to her until I had her backed into the wall. I rested one hand on the wall to pin her in as I ran my thumb over her full bottom lip with the other.

“So fucking beautiful.” When she attempted to speak, I cut my eyes at her and shook my head, letting her know I wanted her to remain silent. For now, she was going to listen to what I had to say.

“You’re hiding something from me, Skye. No, don’t even think about lying to me.” It was a demand for what I needed—the truth.

I watched as she took a deep breath as if trying to work up the courage to reveal whatever her secret was.

“My father left us in Haiti years ago. He never gave us any warning, just left. He went back and forth to America for work a few times. He always promised to come back, and he always did until that last time. Not long after he abandoned us, my little brother died from a sickness he got because our water source was tainted. We had already been through the trauma of a devastating earthquake hitting our area and then to have my brother die… well, it hit us all very hard. I think what bothered me the most was that he didn’t even bother to come to my little brother’s funeral. I’ve never been able to wrap my head around that.”

“So, you think he has possibly returned and is stalking you to milk you for money?”

“It’s a possibility. I was embarrassed to tell you, and I didn’t want you spending your money to hire someone to find him. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

I ran my finger down her face to her throat, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat as her jugular thrummed beneath the pad of my thumb. As serious as this conversation was, she was still making me rock hard.

“You’re making my cock hard,” I snarled. I clamped my hand around her throat lightly as I made my next statement. “I don’t want to make love to you, though. I want to fucking take you, mark you, own you. I want to make you mine. I want to succumb to my visceral nature.”

I watched her chest heave as her breathing became rapid, and it was the only answer I needed. It was time. I had held off long enough. I don’t know if the threat of losing her caused me to take matters into my own hands or not. All I knew was that I had to have her, and I had to have her completely. My fingers pulled frantically at the buttons on her shirt until, frustrated with how slow it was going, I grabbed the two sides and tore it from her body. I ripped at her cutoff denim shorts and pushed her over onto the bed.

My hands quickly unbuckled my belt and pulled my pants down in rapid succession. I had to be inside her. When she taunted me by scooting away as she giggled, my hands clamped the sides of her perfectly voluptuous hips and pulled her back in my direction. I made myself wait at her opening, barely pushing into her for fear of hurting her. I wanted this to be a good memory, not a painful one.

Her pussy glistened, betraying her need for me, as I stroked the head of my cock around her opening and over her clit until her hips began to move in sync. I waited until she climaxed, and then I slowly pushed my full length into her. I gave her body time to adjust to the intrusion. Her fingers fisted at the sheets in a tight grip, so I paused to ensure she was okay.

“Just go slow, baby,” she replied when I questioned her.

I pulled back to the point of almost exiting her tight, wet warmth and slowly pushed back into her, eliciting her cry of pleasurable pain.

“You’re not giggling anymore. Is this no longer funny? Does this feel like a man who’s playing games with you?” I gave her no time to answer me as I continued, “You’re mine. This sweet, little, pink and black pussy of yours is mine to take whenever I feel the need to mark you.”

“You feel so good,” she groaned, clutching at the sheets in a cross of panic, desire, and need. I pulled my cock from her and bent down to position my face between her legs. “Don’t fucking move,” I growled as I situated my body.

I pulled her legs back where I had full access to pleasure her again. I buried my face in her slit and licked her from top to bottom like a man starved for her essence. Her body began to shake as I sucked at her needy pearl. My cock throbbed and I felt like I was going to lose it as she screamed her release. I rose up and slowly pushed back into her opening, watching the magic we made together as our bodies were joined as one. I pulled my cock from her and spilled my seed all over her stomach, rubbing it in with my hands to mark her.

I laughed when she turned her head to look at me and asked, “Did you just write
mine
on my stomach?”

“You’re damn straight I did because that’s what you are. You’re mine.”