“Go.”

  “But, Rhett—”

  If she said another word to me, my willpower would break. And if my willpower broke, I’d never forgive myself.

  “Go!”

  Silence stretched, the atmosphere becoming thick with it.

  A short time later, there was the click of my door.

  I closed my eyes and went to the bar to pour myself a drink, as I silently berated myself for allowing two women in one night to exit my suite unfucked. Then I stepped out into the cold air of my balcony, gazing at the full moon glimmering upon the water.

  I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Emery

  The sun blinked out its last goodbye, sinking behind the hill. The city was too bright, too loud, too everything. I needed to get away. I needed to see the stars just like I could see them in West Virginia when I was a girl. When the first one winked at me, I felt myself relax, the small pinpoint of light beckoning me to follow its path.

  As my headlights cut in front of me, a blur of a shadow darted across the road. I slammed on my brakes, but the figure had already disappeared, lost in the darkness all around me.

  Taking in a deep breath, I began to move again, pressing the gas, and picking up speed.

  There it was again.

  A shadow. No, it was a wolf. This time, he was standing on the side of the road, watching me drive by, my lights reflecting off the silver of his coat. I blinked, and he was gone. Stopping the car again, this time I pulled to the side of the road. Where had he gone? Why had he left me? Isolation settled on my shoulders like a heavy cloak.

  Feeling foolish, I began to drive again, going nearly a mile before he appeared. He wasn’t running this time. Instead, he was in the middle of the road, facing me. Unmoving, he stood there regal and proud. I rolled forward, centering him with my lights, needing to see him better.

  He was beautiful. A strong mixture of dark and light, but it was his eyes that captivated me, a swirling universe of red and green. Why was he here? What did he need to tell me? I felt very strongly that he needed to tell me something. A secret perhaps? Something even deeper?

  “Come to me.”

  I gripped the black leather of the steering wheel and closed my eyes as the words reverberated around me. “No. I’m scared.”

  “What do you fear?”

  I opened my eyes, and it was him. Rhett.

  Regal and proud, he walked toward me, his hand held out, beckoning me to do as he asked. With shaky fingers, I opened the door to the car and stepped out, shivering in the cold.

  As he approached, I reached out to touch him, but he stopped me with a shake of his head.

  I dropped my hand, forgetting that I needed permission to touch him.

  “Turn around.”

  I obeyed and felt the warmth of him as he stepped closer behind me. With a quick movement of his fingers, the straps of the dress I wore slid down my shoulders, puddling at my feet. His fingertips brushed over my skin, leaving a burning trail everywhere they touched.

  “Place your hands on the car.”

  Bending forward, I did as I was told, feeling the warmth of the automobile through the metal, the vibration of the running engine singing through me, quivering through every nerve.

  “Absolutely perfect,” he breathed as he stepped closer. He reached around me until his hands were on my breasts. When he pulled on a nipple, I cried out. Pinpricks of pain went through me as he tugged and pulled, twisting even as his teeth grazed my shoulder.

  Rhett growled and stepped back, one hand moving to my hair while the other came down hard on my bare ass. Although it didn’t really hurt, I cried out in surprise, and he spanked me again. I squirmed, torn between wanting to get away from the pain and wanting more. Before I could decide, his hand came down again.

  “Such a pretty shade of pink,” he murmured, his hand soothing the sting he’d created.

  “Is that what you like?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. Instead, his fingers dipped between my legs, and I gasped.

  “I think it’s what you like, Emery. See how wet you are?”

  I blushed. He was right. I could feel the slick moisture on my thighs. His fingers slid between my folds to circle my clit, and I pushed my hips back, desperate for more. I needed him inside me, needed him to quench the desperate ache that was so unfamiliar.

  The lips on my shoulder moved to the back of my neck before inching down my spine. He kissed the round slope of my ass then down the back of my thigh. His hands pushed my legs farther apart, then his lips found me, his tongue lapping at my center.

  I moaned, the sound reverberating down my body to rest between my legs. I pushed back on his face, grinding with an urgency that was hedonistic and raw. A finger joined his tongue, then a second, spreading me wide as he worked them inside me, threatening to drive me mad.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged in a desperate rush of words. He growled his agreement and drove his fingers harder into me. Just as I felt an explosion building deep inside, he pulled away, and I cried out from the loss.

  Before I could plead for more, he was back, but not with his fingers this time. His hard, thick cock slammed into me so unexpectedly that I screamed.

  “Stop!” I cried, feeling ripped open by him. But he didn’t listen, he grabbed my hair in his fist, pulling back until his mouth could reach mine, silencing me with his lips.

  In and out.

  Pleasure and pain.

  I wanted to beg him to stop and beg him to continue in the same breath.

  “Don’t come yet,” he commanded, his voice rumbling low from his chest. “If you come before I give you permission, you’ll be punished.”

  His hands slid down my arms, and his weight pushed me down on the hood of the car, his teeth nipping at my shoulder, my neck. He took a bite of my flesh, his tongue soothing the sting.

  Pleasure and pain, the perfect combination. Until it wasn’t. Until he sank his teeth into the side of my neck, fangs sinking into my flesh.

  Even as agony exploded, I knew I was going to come. I felt the rush, the primal clenching of my insides as my desire crescendoed before the pain hit me again, the fangs sinking deeper.

  Deeper.

  He growled, and I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing could escape my throat. His nails raked down my arms, sinking into my hands, piercing them to the metal.

  I opened my eyes.

  They weren’t hands. They were claws. Long and sharp, they protruded from the heavy coat of fur on his paws.

  I screamed. My entire body was one giant, trembling nerve as the sound tore out of me.

  He laughed, and with a snarl… howled.

  Jerking awake, I jumped from the bed, ready to fight the beast in my room. A sound came again, and I whirled in its direction.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Breathing heavily, I slowly descended back to reality. It had been a dream. A nightmare. A memory?

  I wasn’t sure.

  The knock sounded again, and on shaky legs, I walked to the door. On the other side was a smiling Juliette standing next to an equally smiling Misty Chamberlin, the stylist.

  Juliette’s smile faded when she saw me. “Are you okay?”

  Pushing my hair back from my face, I gave her my best grin. “Yes. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  Juliette lifted one of her makeup bags. “Good thing I brought this, you look like hell.”

  I shot her a look. “What time is it?”

  “Seven. And you need to book it. Breakfast at eight, and we’ve got a lot to do in an hour.”

  Misty stepped to the side and was soon pushing in a rack of clothes on wheels. “Hit the shower, and then we’ll go through your wardrobe.”

  My jaw fell open as I eyed the beautiful clothes. “Those are for me?”

  “Yep. If they fit and you wear them, they’re yours to keep even after the show.”

  I fingered the silk of a chocolate-colored, one-piece jumpsuit. Over the same hanger was a slip of underwear and matching bra. I looked at the label. 34-AA. It was what it was. On the platform under the clothes was a lineup of drool-worthy shoes. There was a pair of chocolate wedges with laces that would tie up my legs.

  I was in love.

  Sexy and far from slutty, this outfit was exactly what I would have chosen for myself had I been the one doing the selecting. I told Misty so, and she grinned.

  “The color will be perfect against your skin, bringing out the gold tones. I think you should wear your hair half up and half down with these…” she whipped open a case, exposing dangling earrings.

  “Should I wear it now?”

  It seemed too dressy for breakfast, and Misty seemed to agree, shaking her head. “No, that’s an evening outfit. For daytime and for competitions, you’ll want movement. I have a ton of skinny jeans and leggings. Sweaters and long shirts. I wish it wasn’t winter. It would be so much more fun dressing you in shorts and little tops.” She winked at me. “If you win, I’ll dress you for your vacation with Rhett.”

  If I won.

  After he’d tossed me out of his room last night, I’d be lucky to make it past eggs and waffles this morning. The change in him had been so sudden, like I could see the shutters come down, hiding his thoughts. His spirit. His soul.

  But I’d seen the torment first. A torment similar to what Ryan had worn so often. My dad. But his was for a different reason, I realized. It had something to do with the meticulous permission he insisted on.

  But why?

  Unable to sleep after I’d left his room, I pulled my laptop out of my bag and booted it up. Googling his name, I found article after article about the Beasts, his charitable efforts, his many women.

  Jealousy clawed at me as I saw model after model on his arm, but never the same one twice.

  But all those pictures seemed to have been taken over the past couple years. Before that time, there was very little. After clicking through multiple pages, I could only find his name on different patents and trademarks. At twenty-five, he’d spoken at a chamber business dinner, the article boasting about his success with some online storage system he designed.

  But there was so little before that.

  Finding his name in a college yearbook, I’d smiled at a young Rhett Hamilton, who looked so awkward and a bit nerdy in the picture. I traced the thick glasses with my fingers. More than a bit. I searched for a high school yearbook but could never find anything with his name. I searched for his mother’s obituary. I didn’t know when she died and only that Rhett had been a teenager, but I found no Hamilton that seemed to be right.

  At five this morning, I’d finally shut the computer down and caught a couple hours of sleep. I yawned. It wasn’t enough.

  “Hurry,” Juliette said, getting me moving. Grabbing my robe, I headed toward the shower, but knew that, even if I scalded myself for hours, I wouldn’t be able to burn the memory of last night away.

  A huge part of me didn’t want to.

  Even if I never experienced it again, I didn’t want to forget how it felt to be with him, as scary as it turned out to be.

  No, not scary. That wasn’t right.

  Uncertain, maybe.

  I didn’t know what to expect, and I didn’t know how to respond. Didn’t know if I was doing it right. Or if I was pleasing him.

  We’d gone from me massaging his feet to me feeling… everything.

  Every. Thing.

  Pain mixed with the most exquisite pleasure I’d ever known, the two combining with each other like a wave building before it hits shore.

  Then it was over.

  He’d walked away from me, turning his back on me. And I didn’t know why.

  “Hurry!” Juliette’s voice made me jump.

  Letting the conditioner sit in my hair, I swiped my legs and underarms with a razor, then rinsed quickly. Wrapping a towel around my head, I pulled on a robe and opened the door. I was rushing to get ready… for what, I didn’t know.

  An hour later, I was walking down the stairs, nerves playing across my skin. Juliette and Misty had waved their magic wands again, and I felt pretty and not overdone. The jeans were ankle length, hovering over three-inch suede booties. That was paired with a loose tank and long waterfall cardigan in a deep plum. A long rope necklace and earrings dressed the look up a bit without seeming like it was trying too much. My hair was pulled back from my forehead but left loose in the back. A light dusting of makeup finished the look.

  I felt confident and put together until I walked through the dining room’s enormous arch.

  Seven gorgeous women sashayed about, dipping food from a buffet set up on the side or sipping juice at the table.

  “Hi.” That came from the blonde school teacher, who was digging into a stack of pancakes. Her name was Amy, if I remembered correctly, and she gave me a warm smile.

  “Hi.” I blinked as the lights of a camera turned on me. Looking around, I noticed there were three of them ready to capture every moment.

  She waved me in. “Grab a plate. The pancakes are out of this world.”

  I plastered a smile on my face and looked around as I headed toward the buffet. I suddenly didn’t feel as confident around all the tiny skirts and dresses with thigh-high boots.

  Taking Amy’s suggestion, I plucked up two pancakes, then filled the rest of my plate with fruit. Dashing some maple syrup on top, I poured a glass of orange juice and looked for a seat. That wasn’t exactly a problem as the table would seat at least twenty.

  The school teacher noticed my discomfort and patted the chair beside her. I bet she was excellent at her job. I was relieved to see that she was wearing jeans too, hers much lighter than mine. Her blouse was a pretty shade of blue that brought out the blue in her hazel eyes.

  As I sat, a couple of the other women greeted me while a few ignored me completely.

  “What was he like?” the pixie-cut hairdresser asked someone, and I glanced over to see a huge smile spread across Carlie’s face. The cameraman across the table from her focused in.

  She clasped her hands over her enormous breasts. “The best ever. Older men know how to take their time,” she tittered.

  I stared at her. Was she really saying what I thought she was saying?

  The woman across from me, Gabrielle, didn’t look pleased. “I can’t believe you slept with him the first night,” she spat, but Carlie only smiled wider.

  “Aw, don’t be jealous. I’m sure you’ll get your turn.” She laughed, a high, grating sound. “Well, maybe not. He did say he wanted to see me again. He almost wouldn’t let me leave in time to get ready this morning.”

  I was still staring. The woman was lying.

  She shot me a look. “What?” Her nose wrinkled. “Don’t be so straight-laced.”

  The camera turned on me, and I kept my face neutral as I stabbed a bite of pancakes.

  Pixie-cut — Abby, I remembered — pressed on. “Details, please. How big is he? How many times?” She leaned forward. “Did he tie you up? Apparently, he’s into all that.”

  A surge of protectiveness washed over me. “You shouldn’t be saying that.”

  Carlie laughed and mimicked me like a second grader. “You shouldn’t be saying that.”

  The big man from last night stepped into the room. “She’s right,” Dillon said. “You shouldn’t. Turn the cameras off.” The red lights all went off immediately, and he spoke again. “As I’m sure you’ll remember, you signed a nondisclosure agreement. That means that anything you do with Mr. Hamilton personally is considered private and no details are to be disclosed.” He looked between Abby and Carlie. “I’m disappointed that you didn’t remember it.”

  It went right over both of their heads.

  “It’s a re-al-i-ty show,” Carlie said with a shrug, her boobs bouncing with the movement. “We’re supposed to talk about the reality of what’s happening in the house.” She batted her lashes. “Right?”

  Dillon stared a hole right through her. “No private details. If you can’t abide by the agreement you signed, you can leave the house now. Mr. Hamilton’s attorney will be in contact with you this afternoon.”

  Carlie waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Dillon didn’t back down. “Do you understand?”

  She blew out a breath. “Yes, I understand. Geez. This isn’t going to be nearly as fun as I thought it would be.” She slid a glance my way. “I didn’t know I’d be living in a house of prudes.”

  I stared at her levelly. “I didn’t know I’d be living in a house of liars.”

  The camera came back on as Carlie stood. “Liars? You calling me a liar?”

  I stood too. The woman was half a foot taller than me, but I didn’t back down. “Actually, yes. I am.”

  “What’s going on here?”

  I groaned and sagged down into my seat at the sound of Rhett’s voice. Perfect. My chance of ever seeing that one hundred thousand dollars was fading fast.

  Let’s see…

  I tossed him into a pool.

  Cried on his shoulder.

  Almost slept with him the first night I met him.

  Got thrown from his room.

  And now, nearly got into a fight.

  At least I was memorable.

  I stabbed a strawberry. What was wrong with me?

  “Anyone going to answer?”

  Dillon stepped in. “Emery was reminding the other women of your nondisclosure agreement.”

  I glanced over at the bald man, and he winked.

  “And why exactly was there a need for a reminder?” Rhett asked, looking directly at me.

  I stuffed the strawberry in my mouth, refusing to say a word.

  Actually, it seemed like everyone had gotten very interested in their food.

  Before Rhett could say anything more, Phil Harris waltzed into the room. The cameras swung in his direction. “Good morning, everyone,” the host exclaimed, his smile as bright as always.

  As if on cue, everyone exclaimed, “Good morning, Phil.” I lamely waved.

  Rhett stepped over to the buffet and began building an enormous plate. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and sausage was piled high.