Before we go, Callan shows Jase how to set up the wire he’s brought for him to wear, which has Harrison and me sharing dark looks of concern, and then Jase takes a moment to say goodbye to Cameron. While the cousins are talking, Callan gives me a big hug, whispering, ‘I told you so, Emmy,’ in my ear before he lets me go, and I can’t help but smile, remembering what he’d said to me the night I’d run away from Jase at Beckett House. I lean up to kiss him on the cheek just as Jase walks back over to join us, and Callan gives a husky laugh when he catches the possessive way Jase tugs me back into his side, while I simply roll my eyes.

  We have a driver who’s taking the three of us to the airport, and after he raises the privacy screen, Jase finally shares the plan he’s apparently already talked over with Callan, and while it worries us, his grandfather and I both agree that we can’t think of a better way to get the results that are needed. Those results being a clear confession from Caroline not only about what she’s done to Cameron, but also her unsuccessful attempt to have Jase killed in San Diego, and then again last night.

  Jase’s phone rings while we’re still talking, but it’s Martin, so he needs to take the call. While he’s on the phone, I turn my attention to the window, soaking in as much of this beautiful city as I can, hoping to be able to come back soon and do some sightseeing.

  We fly on a private jet down to London, and Jase has another driver waiting for us at the airport. The man takes us straight to Jase’s building, and as we climb out of the Mercedes SUV in the private underground parking garage, I feel like an idiot, because I honestly had no idea that he lives in the freaking Shard!

  God, this is one of the most prestigious, iconic buildings in London, and my boyfriend lives in one of its largest residential flats. I’m so shocked that I start to feel a little light headed, and it’s not from lack of sleep or the elevator ride that we’re taking up to the sixty-fifth floor. I’m just . . . I’m overwhelmed, and I can tell by the way that Jase is watching me that he deliberately never mentioned the fact that he lives here. But I’m not that same girl anymore – the one with barbed-wire walls surrounding her heart and a cynical view of wealthy men – and I take his hand in mine and give it a light squeeze to let him know I’m not going to freak out, which brings the first smile to his lips that I’ve seen all day.

  When we get inside the flat, leaving our luggage in the entryway, Jase tells Harrison and me where everything is, then says he has some more phone calls to make. And while I know there probably are dozens of calls that need his attention, given the hugely successful company he’s been having to run from out of town for weeks now, as well as everything that’s happening with his cousin, I suspect he just wants to be alone for a bit. He’s been on edge ever since Cameron’s heartrending confession, and I know his emotions are at a breaking point, so I give him a soft kiss and tell him to come back when he can.

  Setting my purse down on one of the dark end tables, I look around at the beautiful leather sofas and chairs, my feet sinking into one of the plush rugs that are spread out over the ebony hardwood floors, and then soak in the sight of the towering outer wall of glass. It’s a simply stunning space, and yet, despite looking like it cost a fortune, the atmosphere is warm and inviting, with lots of lush potted plants and rustic metal candlesticks and bowls. The cool air smells of cedar and sandalwood, and I just want to curl up on one of the deep sofas, pull a cashmere throw over me, and sleep for an entire week. But with Jase going off on his own, I’m not about to bail on Harrison.

  I have no idea when Jase is coming back to join us, so I go into the high-ceilinged kitchen and open the stainless-steel refrigerator, relieved to see that someone who obviously works for Jase has completely stocked it with fresh food. I make Harrison and me some antipasti, and cover a plate for Jase, then store it in the fridge.

  It’s so surreal to think that a month ago, I was researching his grandfather for my article, desperate for any kernel of information I could find, and now I’m here, sitting at the marble-topped breakfast bar in Jase’s kitchen, while J.J. Harrison, the world-famous artist, and I sit and talk about books and films while we share a meal together. When we’re done, we take our glasses of the delicious Cabernet Sauvignon that we’ve opened and go to stand at the glass wall, taking in the breathtaking view of London as it spreads out below us like a sea of lights. And when I find the courage to ask him how he’s handling the things that Jase had told him last night, before all the frightening, then gut-wrenching drama unfolded with Cameron, he starts to open up to me as he talks about the women that he’s lost in his lifetime.

  ‘I have so much guilt weighing me down,’ he rasps, ‘it’s a wonder I can walk. Guilt for failing Gianna and my Sarah. Even Janine. And now, knowing what kind of woman I let Jase live with for all those years after Sarah’s death, I . . . Christ, I failed him too.’

  ‘I know he doesn’t want you feeling that way,’ I tell him. ‘And he definitely doesn’t blame you. So there’s no sense in dwelling on the past, no matter how painful it is. For you and Jase, the most important thing is that you have each other now, and where you go from here.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right, Emmy. I just hope I’m able to do right by him.’

  With a gentle smile, I say, ‘The fact that you want to tells me you will. You’re certainly not the kind of man to change his course once he sets his mind on something.’

  He gives a wry, quiet laugh and returns my smile. And though it’s only early evening, I know he didn’t get much more sleep last night than me and Jase, so I’m not surprised when he says, ‘I hate to leave you, but I’m about dead on my feet. Will you think it terribly rude of me if I head on to bed now?’

  ‘Not at all,’ I say, carrying our wine glasses into the kitchen. ‘I actually think I’ll do the same.’

  ‘Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,’ he murmurs, sounding worried. ‘Make sure Jase sleeps.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  He smirks at my words and I feel my face go pink, thinking Harrison’s dirty sense of humor is definitely something his grandson inherited. And the more time I spend with Harrison, the more I notice other little similarities as well, from mannerisms to things they’ll say and the way they say them.

  Now that they’re finally building a relationship, I hope the two remarkable, headstrong men will continue to grow closer, because I truly believe they need each other. Harrison is the only real family Jase has left in the world, and I believe Jase will eventually be able to lure his grandfather out of the dark, lonely world he’s made for himself, and back into the light.

  I turn off all the lights and head down the opposite hallway from the one Harrison walked down, since the guest suites and master suite are on different sides of the flat. I’m listening for Jase’s voice, thinking he’s probably still on the phone – but it’s the sound of Metallica’s ‘Enter Sandman’ that draws me to a door located on my right. I give a light knock, but doubt he can hear it over the music, so I open the door and peek inside.

  I’m surprised to see that the room’s not his study or bedroom, but a gym. Though it’s not like any home gym I’ve ever seen. This one is all gleaming equipment, from the state-of-the-art treadmill and rowing machine, to various weight and resistance ones, along with every kind of free weight you can imagine. The wall with the door is covered in weight racks, the two side walls are completely mirrored, and the back one is nothing but glass, the floor the same gleaming ebony hardwood as the rest of the flat.

  I have a feeling Jase has been in here since he left me with Harrison, trying to work out his anger and frustration by pushing his big, muscular body to its physical limits. He’s dressed only in a pair of black gym shorts, his tanned skin gleaming with sweat as he bench-presses what must be an ungodly amount of weight. I stay where I am, not wanting to distract him. But as soon as he finishes his reps and reaches back, racking the bar, I walk in and shut the door behind me. He instantly sits up as he looks over at me, and there’s an expression on his handsome face that I swear I’ve never seen before. It’s this strange, provocative mix of love and need and raw, visceral craving that goes straight to my head.

  Straight to my heart.

  I can feel my own answering need like a living, breathing thing inside my body, just as fierce and feral as his. It’s pacing its cage, demanding to be fed, and as his dark, piercing gaze searches mine, I know he can see it. Can see the hunger that’s building inside me, all but burning me alive.

  Without a word, Jase reaches down with his battered right hand – his knuckles still swollen and bruised from where he hit Cameron last night – and he picks up the remote that’s on the floor. He uses it to lower the volume of the music, instead of turning it off, and as Bullet For My Valentine’s ‘Waking the Demon’ begins to play, Jase moves to his feet in a breathtaking shift of muscle and sinew, and starts walking toward me.

  His tall, sweat-slick body is hard and ripped, the look in his dark, heavy-lidded eyes telling me that he’s going to use the hell out of me tonight, because I’m the only thing that can ease him. And I’m okay with that. I’m so okay with it that I start pulling my clothes off for him before he even reaches me, because this sexy, alpha beast of a man is hurting, and he’s mine, and I love him. I love him so much I don’t even know how to tell him.

  So I’m going to show him instead.

  ‘I don’t want to talk,’ he says, his deep voice so raw and low it makes me shiver. ‘Not right now. We’ll talk later.’

  ‘But are you okay?’ I ask, gazing up at him with concern as he stops a foot away from me. I’m standing in nothing more than a small, lacy black pair of panties, all my clothes strewn around me on the floor, as if I disrobed in a windstorm. But the air in the gym is calm and still, and I know that the storm is inside me, raging in my veins.

  ‘I will be,’ he husks, taking that final step that brings his body flush against mine, the heat of him making me gasp. ‘I just need to be inside you, Em. As fucking deep inside as I can get.’

  He picks me up then, with his hands on my ass, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, my legs around his waist, and press my trembling lips to his as I nip at his bottom lip, and whisper, ‘Take whatever you want from me, Jase. Whatever you need.’

  He growls in response, tilting his head as he takes my mouth with a scorching, blistering kiss that has me clinging to him as he carries me across the room, to the bench he was just using that sits parallel to one of the mirrored walls. Setting me on my feet, he says, ‘Straddle the bench, with your bare arse to me, Emmy.’

  My heart hammers with excitement as I follow the rough command, slipping off my panties and then straddling the black leather bench so that I’m facing the weights, instead of away from them. I turn my head to watch Jase, and as he starts to unwind the black Velcro wrist supports he’s wearing, he tells me to reach forward and hold on to the metal bar that extends about five inches on either side of the bench at its head. I do as he says, and his long legs straddle my back as he leans down and uses one of the wrist supports to secure my left hand to the bar, binding me to the bench.

  I’m breathing hard and fast, like I’m running a race, but the music’s drowning out the sound. I can feel the huge, diamond-hard length of his cock pressing against my back as he leans over to my other side, securing my right wrist, and if I’d ever had any questions about whether bondage would turn me on or off, they’ve been answered. Because this is one of the hottest damn things I could have ever imagined, and I know it’s because of the man that I’m doing it with. Because I trust him, and am willing to go down whatever intense, sexual path Jase wants to take me on, feeling as if he’s binding me with so much more than fucking Velcro.

  He’s binding me with his need. With his pain and his passion and his hope for what we’re building together, and I love him so goddamn much that it hurts.

  And I want him so desperately I’m literally dripping down the insides of my thighs, my pussy already puffy and drenched, and he hasn’t even touched it yet.

  I start panting harder as he settles on to the bench behind me, my hips rolling as I grind my clit against the warm leather, my nipples so tight I swear I can feel my pulse in them. My wide gaze is glued to the mirror, and I watch as Jase pulls the elastic band of his shorts down over that broad, mouthwatering penis that is all mine, mine, mine. I make a low, throaty sound of appreciation when it springs up against his ridged abs, so big and hard that I have no doubt I’m going to have trouble walking tomorrow. But it’ll be so freaking worth it.

  He wasn’t lying about needing to be inside me, because I only get about five seconds to stare at his beautiful cock, and then he’s burying it in my cunt. I’m soaked in my juices, but tight, and he’s careful to avoid my scar as he grips my hips in a firm hold and starts working his way in with thick, grinding lunges, the way his muscles ripple and flex under his skin so impossibly sexy that I can’t stop watching. Then his hands slide lower, over my ass, and I make a hoarse sound of shock when he uses his thumbs to pull my cheeks apart. I look over my shoulder, watching his molten, heavy-lidded gaze turn volcanic blue as he soaks in the sight of his dick thrusting in and out of me, and I know it must be one hell of an explicit view. He’s seeing every part of me, but I’m not shy or embarrassed, because his body is mine and mine is his. There are no boundaries or borders between us, and I’ll gladly let him have whatever view he wants of me, because God knows there are so many that I want of him.

  I never realized I could be so dirty, but loving this wickedly sexy alpha has unleashed my inner wild woman, and now I crave every part of him. I want him to fuck my oiled breasts and then come straight down my throat as I open my mouth for him. Want to watch him jack that big, textured penis in his strong fist until he comes all over my bare pussy while I finger myself for his greedy, blistering gaze. Want to sixty-nine with him until we both pass out from exhaustion still knotted around each other, completely drained and quivering with aftershocks. I want it all, because it’s Jase and I love him and I want to do everything I can to give him pleasure and rock his world. I want to give it to him so good and hot that he’s always satisfied, because I know he’s always going to do the same for me.

  We’re the perfect team, and I know, with every part of me, that I am a lucky, lucky woman.

  The song has shifted to Alice in Chains’ ‘Would?’, the heavy beat pulsing through my veins, and I cry out as Jase curls one of his powerful arms around my waist, our legs still straddling the bench as he stands, lifting my lower body until my feet are no longer even touching the floor. He’s so strong he handles my weight with ease, my hands still bound to the bar, and I’m so completely in his control that it’s mind-blowing.

  He throws back his dark head and roars as he starts to take me even faster, his massive cock spreading me apart as he drives in hard and deep, going all the way to the root, and I’m gasping for breath, already on the verge of coming. He’s pulling me into each hammering thrust, serving my pussy up to his pounding cock, and I let my head hang down, my hair falling over the bench as I give him my complete and total surrender.

  It may be rough as fuck and hotter than hell, but there’s more emotion burning between us than could ever be explained. I feel like we’re merging and melting together. Our pleasure and pain. Our hopes and needs. Our dreams and hungers. He’s the perfect answer to every question my heart has ever had, and I want nothing more than to take him into every part of me and keep him there forever. For always.

  ‘Every part of you,’ he growls, making me wonder if I just moaned those words out loud, as he grips one side of my bottom and pushes his thumb deep into my ass, the sudden invasion making me cry out. ‘I want it all, Emmy. I’m taking it all. Tonight, baby. Right now. I’m going to fuck this tight little arse so hard that you scream.’

  Oh . . . Oh, God. Just thinking about it has me dripping, and he knows it. Can feel just how excited I am as my pussy gets even wetter for him, his dark shaft gleaming with my juices. ‘Yes,’ I moan, so full of him I can barely breathe. ‘Whatever you want. Whatever you need.’

  He makes a harsh, guttural sound deep in his chest that tells me he’s close, just as I start coming apart for him, my inner muscles pulsing around his thrusting shaft as a violent burst of pleasure scores its way down my nerve-endings, my body hungry for the feel of him blasting inside me, filling me up. But he pulls out at the last second, and I toss my hair out of my eyes as I turn my head and watch in the mirror as he fists his dark, wet cock and starts jerking it in rough, rapid strokes. His head goes back, chest heaving, every muscle in his arm flexing and coiling as he works his dick faster and harder. And then his head drops forward, and he makes a savage sound at the back of his throat as he presses the bulging head right against the puckered ring of muscle between my ass cheeks.

  I gasp his name, and his eyes meet mine in the mirror at the exact moment he starts to come, his hot seed covering the tiny hole and dripping over my skin, sliding down to my pussy, and then pooling on the bench below us, as he just keeps coming . . . and coming.

  It’s the dirtiest thing I’ve ever seen. The dirtiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

  And then it just gets filthier, and a thousand times more intimate. He’s still rock-hard, the heavy weight of his cock resting against one butt cheek, as he uses two big fingers to start pushing his hot ejaculate inside me, working it inside that tight ring, and I know what’s coming. He’s already told me exactly what he wants, and though I’m nervous as hell, the truth is that I want it too. Because it’s Jase, it’s us, and there are no walls between us. No barriers.

  He replaces his fingers with the broad, wet head of his dick, and I give a hoarse, shocked cry as he starts to push inside, penetrating me, so many new sensations bombarding my system I can’t even make sense of them all. He’s careful, but determined, working his heavy cock into my ass one thick, blistering inch at a time, and I know he’s going to give me every one of them. That he’s going to bury himself to the root, and the awareness makes me shiver and moan. Or maybe that’s just from how strange and savagely intimate it feels to have him burying himself in such a forbidden place. I’ve never, in my entire life, thought I would let a man fuck me in the ass. But with Jase . . . God, there’s nothing, no part of me, that I wouldn’t offer up to him. And as he pulls back a few inches, then gives me a gentle thrust, I realize that this . . . Yeah, this feels good.