Page 28 of Madness

He was right…I hated myself.

16

Maddox

Kincaid sat in the car beside me as Bash drove through the city. Her fingers twisting in the hem of her skirt. The same black skirt I lifted while I spanked her round ass. Her foot tapped, drawing my eyes to her battered shoes. I frowned as I looked at her.

Her jacket was too light for the weather. Her clothes were holey and worn. Her hair was soaked, the ends dripping onto the smooth leather seats. She looked like a drowned rat.

I didn’t like it. I didn’t like how defeated she looked. Or that I’d even noticed any of it. But I had. It made something twist in my gut.

I worked my jaw back and forth, trying to figure out why it bothered me. I leaned forward to adjust the heater controls and turn the vents towards her. Kincaid glanced at me, the corner of her mouth curling into a small smile.

The shriveled organ in my chest knocked abruptly as if it was trying to come back to life. Impossible. It had died a long time ago if it had ever worked properly. Which I highly doubted.

I watched her expression as we pulled into the circle driveway in front of my house. It was strikingly similar to my father’s, only smaller. Two stories of cold imposing stone, surrounded by acres of woods and lush lawns. It was a well-protected fortress just outside the city. There was no such thing as too much security when your job was to make enemies.

“Where are we?” She asked as she stared at the house.

“My home.” Her body tensed next to me. I could almost taste her fear. I resisted the urge to shove her against the seat and do just that. To suck it from her lips as I fucked her mouth with my tongue.

“I thought you said we were going to dinner.” Her voice had a slight tremble to it, making my cock harder than it already was.

“I didn’t say I was taking you out. I said you were having dinner with me.” I smiled as I watched her hands shake. She was caught in my cage again. “Here. At my house.”

Without another word, I exited the car. My shoes slapped the wet ground as I rounded the car to open her door. The rain had finally stopped leaving a fog in the air. Her wintery eyes flicked to me as if she was suspicious of the gesture.

“I told you I could be a gentleman,” I whispered in her ear as I took her hand. My fingers tightened around her, not letting her go as I walked her to the door. Her skin felt like a brand. Searing me to her.

Bash opened the front door allowing us to cross the threshold. We were standing in my foyer. To the right, a closed door led to my office. To the left were two doors; one leading to a living space, the other a dining room. In front of us was a staircase leading to the bedrooms and a hallway that led to the kitchen, a bathroom, and a second living room I never used.

I tried to look around as if I was seeing it for the first time. The way Kincaid was seeing it. It wasn’t as opulent as others. The floors were stone rather than marble. There were no gaudy chandeliers or expensive artwork. Everything was done in shades of gray. It suited me, but I had an overwhelming urge to know what Kincaid thought.

She glanced around with parted lips. “I guess the Mafia business pays well.”

“It does.” I didn’t bother denying what I was. There was a sick thrill with my job that I enjoyed.

I stared at her for another moment. She was so beautiful. Innocent. I wasn’t sure why I’d brought her here. I’d never brought a woman to my house before. Not that she’d be staying for long.

It was all part of the game. I wanted her out of the normal space I met her in. Wanted to throw her off balance. There were plenty of places I could’ve taken her, but then I’d pictured her here. In my house. In my control. A crazy need to make that a reality had tossed aside my common sense.

Taking her hand, I led her up the stairs. “Wait here.”

I didn’t stop to see if she listened or what her reaction was. I continued down the hall to my room. I pushed through the doors and headed to the walk-in closet. I grabbed a black button-up shirt off a hanger before returning to the little dove. She stood trembling as she watched me. I thrust the shirt into her hands.

“You can use this room to change.” I pointed to the door behind her. It led to one of the guest rooms that I also didn’t use.

“Change?” She scrunched her brows as she looked at the shirt in my hand.

“You’re shaking and dripping everywhere. You can’t eat dinner like that.”

She bit her lip, continuing to look away from me. “You sound like you care.”

“I don’t.” I said too quickly. “Not about you. But you’re ruining the carpet.”

Why the fuck did I care if she was shivering? Cold? Wet?

I didn’t.