SWNOVELS Chased: Chapter 19
It’s a strange feeling going from having your entire life monitored with people following you and making sure that you’re safe to being completely independent again. Every time I go to do something now, I find myself tenser, more on edge.
Everyone is so sure that my stalker has moved on. It’s been two weeks since anything has happened, the flood at Ronin’s, and even I have to admit that it seems unlikely that he’s just hanging around and waiting this out.
Up until now, it’s really felt like things have been moving quickly, and the dude seemed pretty impatient. Yet things have been so calm I don’t really know what to make of it.
This morning, heading into the office, it really feels like no time had passed, and everything is back to normal. Obviously, that’s not the case, and I’m going to have to adjust to this new normal. The truth is I came to enjoy the company of Indy as my shopping and movie buddy. I swear the guy loves drama at least as much as I do.
Asher peeled off the rotation first, and now with Indy gone, that leaves only Ronin.
I’m definitely not complaining about that part.
We’ve had a lot more privacy in the past few days, and there’s something to be said for that. In fact, I’m sore in all the best ways this morning, the reminder of Ronin between my legs throbs with every step I take.
As I pull open the door to my office and step inside, I realize this is the first time I’ve been on my own in months.
Shadow Phoenix has a new pop-up show for their latest album tonight, so I’ve got a shit ton of work piled on my desk. As much as I love to organize, I’ve gotta say piles of paperwork are basically my arch-nemesis.
Okay, so the paperwork may be metaphorical—and digital—but that doesn’t mean I hate it any less. I could really go for a distraction, but with everybody busy and the Shadow Phoenix wives dealing with their husbands in preparation for today’s show—plus Penelope doing whatever it is that she does—I can’t seem to find a good enough excuse to get out of doing what needs to be done.
So, I sit and toil away behind my desk. I never used to feel this way about my job, but now that I’ve discovered what it’s like to have a fulfilling personal life, it’s getting harder and harder to want to come into the office.
I always thought that I had everything that I wanted before, that my life was perfect the way it was. Now I’m starting to think that maybe I just really hate change. Have you ever watched that show Hoarders? Well, I look at that as people who are trying to fill some void in their life with all sorts of shit that they don’t need and can’t bear to let go of. For me, instead of hoarding all kinds of trinkets and useless bullshit like stacks of old, yellowing newspapers, I’ve collected friends and nights out and business colleagues. Sure, the connections have come in handy through the years, but I never realized how unfulfilling all of it was.
Not until I met Ronin and was stalked within an inch of my life. Literally.
The day passes slowly, but I get everything done that I need to. Debauchery’s next couple of shows are booked, and after the last one they put on, I need to bring Harrison in to get the word out. I refuse to sit back and watch as their career flounders. That’s not my style, and that’s not what I’m going to do here. I’ve made a name for myself in this business because I’m a goddamn bulldog who refuses to take no for an answer. If people don’t want to show up to see my clients play, it’s my job to make them see why they absolutely have to.
Lucky for me, I happen to have one of the very best publicists in the business on speed dial who owes me more favors than I can count on one hand. I have no issue calling those favors in if it’s going to benefit my clients. The only real problem here is whether or not Harrison will answer the phone. Now that he’s mostly out of the game and only really working for Shadow Phoenix, I may have to threaten his manhood to get him to fulfill his end of our bargains.
Hopefully, he’ll just do the right thing, and my stiletto heel can stay on the ground where it belongs.
Isn’t it funny how when you want time to go by faster, when you’re really looking forward to something you can’t fucking wait for, time seriously crawls by? I think it’s even worse the more you want something, and I really want to let off some steam when I see Ronin tonight.
You might think that I’d be feeling worn down or sick because of the baby, but I’m not. In fact, the only thing that I feel is excitement and a little bit slick between my thighs because we got interrupted this morning when Ronin got called into the office. If I had it my way, I would have a solid two orgasms minimum before I crawled out of bed every morning, but apparently, life had other plans, so now I’m stuck waiting until tonight.
I’m definitely not salty about it or anything.
Even tonight, it might take some convincing to get Ronin to take me into the club’s bathroom and have his naughty way with me. A smile pulls at my lips as I grab my phone off the surface of my desk and type out a text message.
Me: Feel like helping me out with a shopping trip?
Indy: Name the time and place.
I sent him another text with the details before jumping up from my desk and snatching my purse out of the drawer. I rush past my assistant, throwing him a quick excuse over my shoulder so that he doesn’t have a chance to argue with me. One of the best parts about my job, besides getting to help people achieve their dreams and seeing all the latest bands before fame got its claws in them, is that I can really come and go as I please. There’s always an easy excuse for the band needing something or needing to meet with the manager of a venue or a million other reasons to get me out of the office.
If I was stuck behind a desk all day, every day, I think I would die. I would wither up into a wrinkled, haggard, hunched-over mess that nobody would recognize and probably should never see the light of day.
When I get to my favorite store, Indy’s already waiting outside. He’s wearing black on black on black—black ripped jeans, a black T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He’s got his arms folded across his chest and is leaning against the wall, and I laugh as I watch woman after woman pass by gawking at him.
I can objectively admit that he’s good-looking, but he’s more like a brother to me. He might as well be Damon for all the things I feel for him. It’s hard for me to see him as anything else in the face of the perfect specimen that is Ronin Desai.
‘About time you showed up, Red.’ Indy pushes off the wall and slings his arm over my shoulders, earning me a jealous and petty glare from a woman leaving the store we’re about to walk into. It only makes my grin bigger.
‘Have I taught you nothing? You know the only way to show up is fashionably late. I see you also didn’t get the memo of having a woman for a BFF. Showing up with drinks in hand for your shopping date is rule number one,’ I say, elbowing him in the ribs as we walk inside the modern brick building.
‘Considering I know for a fact you’re not supposed to be drinking caffeine right now, and Ronin would chop off my hands with his goddamn machete if I did anything that might put you or the baby at risk, I think I’ll leave you to get your own coffee, thanks.’ His crooked grin as he pulls his sunglasses off and tucks them into the neck of his T-shirt shows me he’s kidding, and yet the seriousness underlying his tone tells me he knows it’s not really a joke. Ronin’s overprotective ass has already gotten Indy on his side. If I’m not careful, my girlfriends will be next on his list.
I huff, pouting just a little bit. I know Indy’s right, and ever since we found out I’m pregnant, Ronin has been beyond overprotective. Every ounce of caffeine in my house—along with all my other favorite yummy things like cream cheese and deli meat—mysteriously disappeared.
Okay, it’s probably not a mystery.
On the plus side, there are a whole lot of things on that do not eat list that I don’t even touch regularly, so all in all, I’d say my eating life isn’t impacted too badly, and it’s for the best cause ever.
‘You going to tell me what we’re doing here?’ Indy raises his eyebrow as we stop in front of the lingerie department. ‘I wasn’t joking before about the hands, you know. If Ronin found me here in this section with you, I have a feeling my hands are the last thing he’d be wanting to cut off. That machete would be aimed at something more south and far more precious to me.’
‘You sound awfully scared of my boyfriend for someone I happen to know for a fact tortures people on the regular,’ I point out.
Indy doesn’t deny it but waits me out instead.
‘I promise I won’t let him cut your dick off. Besides, we’re here to do something nice for him, so if he has a problem with it, he can just get the fuck over it.’ I step up to the rack of insanely expensive scraps of lace and satin and silk. I’ve always had a weakness for delicate, pretty things that I can wear under my clothes. It’s like a secret I keep with myself, knowing how amazing I look, and the only one who gets to see it is me—or whoever I decide is worthy.
In this case, the blessed recipient is Ronin, and I can’t wait to see his face when he flips up my skirt tonight and sees whatever I’m about to pick out here on display just for him.
‘Okay… What are we looking for?’ Indy hovers behind me, picking up a white lace nightie between his index finger and thumb and holding it up like he’s afraid it’s going to bite him.
‘What do you think this is going to do to you?’ I pluck the lace out of his hand and wiggle it around before folding and putting it back on top of the pile. ‘It’s not like it’s going to get knocked up and start demanding you pay child support or something.’
Indy swallows hard, and I swear all the color drains out of his face. ‘Don’t joke about shit like that.’ He shivers, looking around like he expects the underwear surrounding him to do exactly what I just said. I can’t help but laugh. This is exactly the reason that I love having him around.
‘Okay, okay. I’ll take pity on you. I need to find something that’s gonna blow Ronin’s mind tonight. Something that will tempt him to act out of character.’ I drift away from Indy, feeling him following behind me. This store just so happens to be divided into sections by color, so I move toward the black.
‘How out of character are we talking?’ Indy moves up closer behind me so he can look over my shoulder but not so close that he might accidentally touch something.
I spin around and look up at him, blinking my big green eyes innocently. ‘Slamming me up against the club bathroom wall, ripping the underwear off because he can’t wait to slide that big dick inside me, and fuck me until I come screaming so many times I forget my own name out of character?”
‘Jesus. You know, I could’ve gone my whole life without hearing that, especially with the extra graphic detail.’ Indy shudders again, muttering something about how he’s going to have to skip lunch now. Despite that, he moves forward and plucks a hanger out of the center of the rack, and thrusts it at me. ‘Here. This one. If you try it on, you can get one of your girlfriends to give you their opinion with a picture. I do not need to see that.’
One of the sales girls has been hanging around shooting flirty looks in Indy’s direction this entire time, so I take pity on the poor bastard. ‘Why don’t you go have a little fun? I’ll meet you back here in half an hour?’ I nudge him in the direction of the girl, who’s no longer being inconspicuous about her interest. Her tits are practically falling out of her shirt. I should ask her what bra she’s wearing because I bet if my boobs fell out of my shirt like that, it might just give Ronin the push he needs to lose control.
Indy goes to put his moves on the girl, but I grab the back of his jacket and yank him back. ‘Find out what kind of bra she’s wearing while you’re in there. I need to get one.’
Indy laughs and salutes me before sauntering off to the giggling salesgirl.
I wonder if I look like that with Ronin, giggling like a total idiot. Oh, I’m not judging the girl, just wondering if we all fall to pieces like that around a hot guy. It’s no wonder that type of guy usually falls for the girl who keeps her wits and challenges him. It’s as cliché as ever, and yet every time I tell Ronin to fuck off, he gets a glint in his eye that spurs me on.
If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.
Now that Indy is occupied, I’ve got to refocus on my mission. I really need to try this thing on, so I hope that he takes his little fuckfest with the pretty worker into a back office or something. The last thing I want to hear while trying on this lingerie is Indy getting it on. I’m just as grossed out by that idea as he is seeing me in lingerie.
I step into the fitting room and pull the heavy curtain closed. I’ve only got one thing to try on, so it shouldn’t take too long. Once I’m decked out in the lacy black thong and the black garter belt that matches, I slide the silk stockings up my legs to my thighs and buckle them. Finally, I slip on the matching bra, and let me tell you, it does wonders for the girls. They are fuller and perkier, which is fantastic because my stomach is still flat, so I’m rocking all the perks and very few of the downsides of pregnancy.
If this is how it always is, I could see how people have, like, six kids.
Better get through this first one, though.
I need a new set of heels and a dress to hit at the perfect length to give a little peek of the top of my stockings, so I tempt Ronin to give in to my wicked ways. Seducing my man is way more fun than I ever thought it could be, and I’m definitely going to have to do this often.
I don’t even need to send a picture of how hot I look to my girls because I already know. I undress and pile up the clothes, knowing that it hasn’t been half an hour yet and hoping that they have more than one girl on staff so I can buy this and continue on with my day.
I mainly brought Indy along because I wanted a man’s opinion of the best piece of lingerie in this place. Now that I have that, I can deal with the shoes myself. Although he may just give me shit for it since I don’t know if he would admit it to any of the guys, but Indy is a total shoe whore.
I swear he might give his left nut if the right pair of Air Jordans came along. Oh, and the guy has never met a pair of motorcycle boots he doesn’t like.
Lucky for me, when I get to the register, there is an annoyed-looking, slightly older, and more with her shit together saleslady ready to handle my purchase. I hand over my black card and sign, a huge smile on my face. I bet I know exactly what she’s annoyed about if the faint thumping sounds coming from behind her are any indication.
Bag in hand and card in wallet, I wonder if I have enough time to sneak in a chai latte before Indy is done. Honestly, I would be disappointed if I didn’t. The girl is risking her job after all. Doesn’t she deserve at least a couple of orgasms?
I decide to risk it and head outside, walking up the sidewalk and passing a couple of storefronts before getting to the coffee shop on the corner.
Ten minutes later, I’ve got my latte in hand—decaf, thank you very much—my lingerie taken care of, and a new pair of shoes in my very near future. For the first time in weeks, as I pull open the door to go back into the shop to meet Indy, I feel that telltale tingle on the back of my neck that makes the hair stand up. Glancing over my shoulder, the sidewalk is empty, and I don’t see anything out of place.
This is really the first time I’ve gone anywhere besides home and work, so it’s understandable that I might feel that way. I brush it off and let the door close behind me. Indy is leaning against the counter murmuring something in the ear of a very flushed and freshly fucked looking girl, and if I were placing bets, say he’s weaving a spell to get her to forget to ask for his phone number.
I’m also jealous as hell, considering how my own sexcapades ended prematurely this morning, and I’ve been stuck in hornyville all damn day.
Doing my very best Taylor Swift impression, I shake it off and tilt my head with a little laugh, sipping the hot spicy deliciousness gripped in my hand while I casually stroll over to the two of them. I figure the least I can do is give Indy a reason to walk away. ‘Finished so soon?’ I raise my eyebrow at him in challenge, and for a second, he takes the bait, scowling at me. But then this is Indy, and outside of his job, he’s not a very serious guy.
‘I don’t think I got any complaints, right Sweetness?’ he asks, tucking a strand of the poor girl’s blonde hair behind her ear. Again, she giggles, and this time it grates on me, not gonna lie. I don’t think I’ve even heard the girl say one word this entire time. I glance down at her name tag and snort—Victoria.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
‘Well, as fun as this is, I’ve got a new pair of shoes to find, and they’re not gonna by themselves. Hopefully, Indy took care of you, Victoria, because unfortunately, I can’t spare another twenty minutes today. If not, maybe next time, yeah?’ I wink at her as her cheeks turn pink. ‘At this rate, I’m going to run out of time and only have half an outfit.’ I stare up at Indy, and he pushes off the counter, looking reluctant, but I know better. He can’t let the girl know that he does this almost every time I go shopping, so he’s got to play like he doesn’t want to leave even though he’s dying to get as far away from her as he can.
So many guys think shopping with women is only for gay men, but here’s Indy proving them wrong day after day. See, most of the girls who work at the stores don’t come across a whole lot of straight guys, so when one that looks like Indy comes in ready to throw down, the legs practically fall open with no effort at all. It’s a win-win for both of us.
By the time I’ve got my new red bottom heels and the tightest, shortest, and slinkiest dress I’ve ever seen bought and ready for tonight, I’m out of time. I blame Indy for the reason that I’m dressing in a bathroom at the last shop. No time for a shower or to fix my makeup or my hair, so I’d have to work with what I have in my purse. It’s a damn good thing that I’m an expert at improvising.
Indy’s working the show tonight just like Ronin, so he’s my ride to the venue. I Ubered here from the office, so I didn’t have to deal with my car, and I pat myself on the back for thinking of my future self like that. The drive to the venue is across town, so it takes a solid hour, but I make Indy blast nineties pop music, and I do the girliest squeal ever when he sings along to the Spice Girls. He also tries to make me promise not to tell anybody, but I’m still kind of pissed off that he made me late tonight, so I don’t agree.
Stepping out of Indy’s car, I can admit I feel sexy as hell. This dress hugs my body like a second skin, and the tops of my stockings and the clips for the garter peek out from the hem exactly like I pictured.
Ronin’s outside the building standing against the door, all sculpted muscle and radiating pure don’t fuck with me vibes. Shit, my heart is already racing at just the sight of him. I hope I look like a sex goddess, pure confidence and sexual energy that lures him in—sort of like a siren except for the death part. The fact that his eyes eat me up as I walk across the parking lot, heating and filling with lust and dark, steamy promises makes my legs want to clinch together to get some relief, but I can’t. If I do, I’ll be waddling across the parking lot, and that’s not enticing at all. No, I have to strut my stuff if I intend to continue playing my game and getting him to give in.
I step up in front of him, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap me up in his big arms and kiss me in a way that proves I’m his to everybody who happens to see us. His tongue invades my mouth, his touch igniting every sense. All I can do is hold on and go along for the ride, hoping I don’t melt into a puddle at his feet. His fingers trace up the curve of my waist, stopping at the underside of my breast as his thumb strokes along my peaked nipple. He groans low and deep in his throat in a way that ignites my core like nothing else ever has.
I think my plan is working.
The hand wrapped around my back tightens and slides lower until the tips of his fingers brush the top of my ass. He pulls his hand off of my breast, and I whimper at the loss of contact, at least until I feel his fingers sliding up my thigh and plucking the elastic of the garter. He pulls it out and lets it go, so it slaps along the skin of my thigh, stinging. His fingers slip underneath the same elastic to smooth away the sting.
The throbbing from the skin of my thigh radiates straight to my core, and I can feel wetness pooling between my legs. I shift my hips forward, so his hard length presses against my stomach. I’m wondering if I lift onto my toes if I can rearrange his delicious cock right where I want it, rubbing against my clit. Then, maybe he’ll grip my thigh and wrap my leg around his waist, yanking my panties to the side and hurrying to undo his belt so he can slip inside of me.
My hopes are dashed a second later when a throat clears behind us, and Indy makes his presence known. ‘I waited as long as I could, but if you two are about to start fucking out here, I’m out. I need to know where to go so I can avoid having to bleach my eyes, so where do you want me, boss?’
Ronin and I pull away from each other, but he doesn’t let me go. That hand that’s on my back criminally low, practically on my ass, grips me tighter and holds me as close as I can get against his straining erection. ‘I’m not your fucking boss,’ Ronin snaps. ‘Go inside and talk to Connor.’
As soon as Indy’s gone, I look up at Ronin and link my hands behind his neck. ‘Is the band here yet? I better get in there and get to work too.’
‘They’re here, but you’re sure as fuck not going anywhere. We have unfinished business to take care of.’ Ronin pushes his hips against me, and I feel exactly what kind of unfinished business he’s referring to.
I lift my eyebrow. ‘As much as I find your cock irresistible, I’m not about to fuck you in the entryway to some club for a work function.’ Ronin looks like he wants to argue, but I press my finger against his sensual, full lips. ‘Give me fifteen minutes to do a lap around the club and check in with the band, then meet me in the women’s bathroom.’
I don’t give him a chance to argue, and I do exactly what I said I would. I check in with the guys of Shadow Phoenix, and they’re all good to go. They’re professionals, and even if they weren’t, Jericho is practically a second manager slash more of a control freak than I am. He’s way stricter than me, and he’ll let them have it if they’re not doing things up to his standards.
It’s not until I’m heading back to the bathroom for my rendezvous with my man that a wave of dizziness hits me, and I stumble against the wall. I’m sure it’s nothing, and I’m probably just overly tired, and I need to sit down for a minute, but I don’t want to give up on my plan. I can rest when I get home.
Unfortunately for me, Indy happens to see my stagger, and I know he won’t let it go.
‘What’s wrong?’ He’s at my side in a second, and his hand grips my upper arm. I don’t want to admit how much I need him to hold me upright right now because the dizziness is coming in waves.
‘Nothing. Don’t overreact. I’m just a little bit dizzy. I’m sure it’s fine, and I just need some water or something.’
‘I’m getting Ronin, and you’re taking your ass home right the fuck now.’ Indy’s head starts to swivel as he’s looking for Ronin across the gathering crowd.
‘You know if you tell him, he’s just gonna freak out, and Connor needs him here tonight. Let me tell Jericho I’m taking off, and I’ll Uber. Ronin can finish up the night and meet me at home. I’m sure I just need some water and some sleep.’
The dizziness is already starting to subside, and Indy looks me over like he really doesn’t want to go along with my plan, but finally, he sighs. ‘You’re a shitty influence, you know that? I think this is a mistake, and I can’t promise I won’t change my mind, but if you leave right now and text one of us when you get home, I’ll just tell him you weren’t feeling great and leave it up to you to explain more when he gets home after the show.’
‘It’s not a lie. I don’t feel great.’
Indy glares at me and doesn’t let my arm go until we find Jericho. He also must’ve called a car because, by the time I’m done checking out, he’s shoving me into the backseat of an Uber and slamming the door closed. I rest my forehead against the cool glass of the window as exhaustion washes over me on the ride home. I’m so fucking disappointed. I really wanted to get down and dirty at the club, but now I guess I’ll have to just take a nap—in my new lingerie, of course—and wait for Ronin to get home. I’m sure a couple of hours of sleep will clear up any grossness the baby’s causing.
This whole growing a baby business is no joke.
The driver lets me out right at the door to my apartment building and the security guy barely even scowls at me as I walk past his desk. I’m considering it a win.
The elevator meanders up, and when I step out into the hallway of my apartment, I slip out of my shoes, dangling them with two fingers while I dig out my keys. By the time I get inside the apartment, I toss my shoes off to the side, and I’m so tired I almost want to crawl to my bed. My bones feel like they weigh five hundred pounds each, and I consider stretching out on the couch instead because it’s so much closer, but the cloudy fluffiness of my custom mattress is going to win that battle every day of the week.
While I walk, I grab the hem of my dress and peel it over my head, tossing it down onto the floor and leaving it wherever it is. I’ll deal with it later. I peel back the covers of my bed, not even bothering to turn on the light. Sliding between my sheets, it takes me all of half a second to realize there’s something wrong. Something cold and wet and a little bit sticky that definitely should not be there coats my sheets, and the strong metallic smell that can only be blood hits my nose like a wrecking ball to the face. I pull my shaking hand out, not really wanting to confirm my suspicions, but it’s so dark that I can’t see, so I jump out of bed, feeling a burst of energy from the adrenaline that has just spiked through my veins.
When I turn on the light, I look at my bed and gasp. The sheets are soaked in crimson like my skin. Red streaks coat my body and drip down my legs. For a second, a terrifying thought hits me that this could be from the baby, but then the blood is cold. If it was coming from my body, wouldn’t it be warm?
I hurry back over to the bed and peel back the blanket, trying to find the source, but before I can take in my ruined sheets, a loud crashing sound from the living room makes me jump. Footsteps pound down the hall toward my bedroom and I look frantically around for a place to hide.
My pulse rushes in my ears so loudly as I dive for the closet and turn the handle to shut the door as silently as I can, that I don’t even know what’s happening or who’s inside my apartment. I crawl to the back of the closet, pressing my back against the wall in the dark and covering my mouth with both hands to keep my gasping breaths as quiet as possible.
My chest aches from how fast and hard my heart is beating, but I hear voices murmuring and something slams into the wall beside the door, making me jump. A little squeak escapes the hold I have on my mouth and I freeze, hoping the loud noises coming from my bedroom cover up the sound.
A woman’s laugh carries back toward me, muffled through the closed door and the wall. Have I been wrong this entire time about who’s been following me? I was sure it was a man, but now… I just don’t know.
Fuck, if only I’d grabbed my phone I could have sent Ronin a text for help, but stupidly I left it on my nightstand. It sounds like whoever’s in my room is destroying the place, and I wince as I hear the shattering sound of glass breaking.
Suddenly, everything goes silent and I press harder against my lips to keep quiet, but the door flies open. I squint in the harsh light, unable to see whoever’s blocking the door because they’re backlit so their face is shrouded in darkness.
Fitting.
I’ve got a pressing new problem a few seconds later when the figure dives for me. I throw my hands up and kick as hard as I can, giving up all pretense of staying quiet in favor of doing as much damage as I possibly can.
I realize how hopeless it is when a second figure steps into the small space with a cloth in her hand. My hands are clamped together in a powerful grip and the man I can hardly see straddles my legs so I’m unable to kick out anymore.
She leans down, her face close to mine and my eyes widen in realization at who my attacker is just as she covers my nose and mouth with the cloth. I struggle, breaking my hands free and claw at her hand and wrist, but it’s like iron, immovable and unflinching in its hold. Holding my breath, I resist until my lungs are screaming, but eventually, I’m forced to inhale and, when I do, the world goes dark.