Heath Read online

  She fights a smile. The last time I saw her, my dick was inside her ass on her wedding day to another man. Picking up where we left off would be very naughty. Catrina never was a good girl.

  “And if Catrina is too busy to entertain you, I’m available,” Isabel pipes up, smiling at me.

  I stare at her. Small tits. Thin and willowy. Nothing in the looks department that even compares to Catrina’s voluptuous body. The fact that she considers herself an equal to my love is laughable. Still, I toy with her.

  “I may take you up on that. A man has to eat and no man wants to eat alone,” I say, flashing her a polite smile.

  “Isabel, you should run along,” Elliot snaps. “The adults are talking.”

  I snort and Catrina slaps my thigh. I capture her hand with mine and bring it to my lips to kiss her knuckles.

  “I am an adult,” Isabel hisses. “Don’t be an asshole.”

  Helen gasps from nearby. This time, I let loose a boisterous laugh.

  “She certainly has an adult mouth on her,” I taunt.

  Elliot rises from his chair and points at his sister. “Please leave, Isabel. I have some matters to discuss with Mr. Heath. Alone. Go on, now.”

  Isabel—the fragile fucking girl—stares at him as though he’s struck her. Her bottom lip wobbles as she stands. When her eyes seek out mine, I wink at her again.

  “Now,” Elliot reminds her.

  With a huff, she rushes from the room. Five bucks says she’s in the hallway bawling her eyes out. “You had matters to discuss?” I ask, my interest piqued.

  Elliot sits once again. “Do tell us how you’ve come to live at Windy Hills. Last I heard, Hunter and Francesca were living there. All was well.”

  Francesca. I nearly shudder. I can’t stand that woman.

  “It seems Catrina’s brother has welcomed me back.” Because I highlighted the goddamned will and shoved it in his face. Crenshaw made sure I had a home there, stating that as long as Hunter owns the home, I have the right to reside in it. “Time heals all wounds, I suppose.” I lean in and whisper to Catrina, “Time stopped while I was gone. Time was frozen as I tried to memorize every detail of you, my love. The soft sound of your laughter. The breathy way you say my name. The exact shade of pink your skin would turn when you’d come.”

  She gasps. “Heath…”

  “I can almost still taste you on my tongue. Sweet,” I murmur before kissing her temple. “Or is that the lemonade I still taste?”

  When I pull away, Elliot’s face is nearly purple. He grips the arms of the chair as he grinds his teeth together.

  That’s right, motherfucker. You never really had her. She was always mine.

  “Heath,” he grinds out. “If you’ll excuse us, my wife and I have plans this evening that we must get ready for.” He stands and holds out his hand, waiting for me to shake it.

  “No, we don’t,” Catrina blurts out.

  I twirl a lock of her hair around my finger and tug. “Don’t worry, love, we have all the time in the world.”

  She groans when I stand and I have to pull my other hand from her death grip. I don’t shake Elliot’s hand and walk past him. Catrina starts after me, but Elliot snags her by the wrist and hauls her to him. I won’t stick around for his sad attempt at being macho.

  “We’d love to have you for dinner at the Windy Hills Estate, Catrina. Any day, you’re more than welcome.” I flash her a suggestive smile before stalking out of the sitting room.

  I whistle a jovial tune as I exit their impressive home and stalk toward my brand-new Bentley Mulsanne. The car is like my old Honda, but a helluva lot more expensive. I admire my vehicle as I approach. When I sit down inside, I’m shocked to find Isabel sitting in the passenger seat. All attempts at behaving with any sort of decorum have flown out the window. I’m no longer playing a fair game with Elliot and Catrina. No, all bets are off now. The gentleman has taken a seat and the beast is ready to play.

  “May I help you?” I sneer, my tone condescending as hell.

  Her hazel eyes widen as though she didn’t expect that sort of greeting. “I, uh, I like you.”

  I lift a brow that says, And your fucking point?

  “And I thought maybe we could go out or something,” she rushes out, her face burning crimson once more.

  “Hmmm. Or something? Elaborate on the something.”

  She bites on her thin bottom lip. This poor girl is simple and boring. I wonder if she compares herself to the beauty who resides inside her home. What a horrible life to always be second best.

  Boldly, Isabel leans forward. “We could kiss,” she breathes.

  “Have you kissed anyone before?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “Nobody that matters.”

  “I shouldn’t matter to you,” I growl. “I take and take. I never give. Not to someone like you.”

  Her brows furl together and her eyes water like she might cry. I would gobble you up in a second, Goldilocks.

  “I could surprise you,” she says.

  “You can’t handle anything about me,” I warn. “Much less surprise me.”

  Boldly, she climbs across the center console and straddles my lap. I won’t admit it, but this does surprise me. Her body is bony and awkward, but it gives me ideas. Wicked ones.

  Fuck you, Elliot.

  I grab the front of Isa’s dress and yank it down, exposing her small tits to me. With a critical eye, I inspect them. One is slightly bigger than the other. Imperfect.

  “I’m a monster.” I look up at her. “Do you understand? I would destroy you.”

  She cups my cheeks with her hands. “Maybe I want to be destroyed,” she murmurs breathlessly.

  A low, evil chuckle rumbles from me. “So you’d let me fingerfuck you right here? In the driveway with your brother close by?”

  Panic flashes in her eyes, but she squeaks out a yes.

  “I don’t think you deserve to come,” I sneer.

  She runs her fingers into my hair, messing up the gelled style. “Okay.”

  Okay.

  Ha!

  “Okay,” I mimic, taunting her. “We’ll see.”

  She gasps when I shove her dress up her thighs, seeking her panties. I easily tear them from her tiny body and shove them in the cup holder. Then, I slide my fingers past her golden snatch and push my longest finger deep inside her. She’s wet—dirty little girl—and she’s not a virgin.

  “Yes,” she whimpers. “More.”

  “More fingers?” I challenge.

  She doesn’t answer, so I work another finger into her tight channel. Her body clenches around my fingers and worry flickers in her gaze.

  “I’m rough. Sweet little girls like you can’t be with men like me.”

  “Why not?” she asks, pouting.

  “Because I’ll fucking hurt you,” I snarl.

  She cries out when I grab a handful of her hair and draw her to my mouth. I don’t kiss her but bypass her mouth instead and latch my mouth to her neck. I fuck her needy cunt hard with my fingers, but I don’t let her come. She moans, faking her pleasure. Liar. I bite her goddamned neck until she screams and tries to get away.

  As she scrambles into the passenger seat, I watch her. She cries and adjusts her dress but doesn’t climb out of the car. Stupid girl. Wiggling my wet fingers, I get her attention.

  “Do you taste good?” I ask her.

  Tears roll down her cheeks and she shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t know either,” I tell her simply. “And I don’t care.”

  She gapes at me.

  “I’ll purchase you some new underwear next time I’m in the city. Now if you’ll run along, I have business that needs tending to at home.” I give her a polite smile, dismissing her.

  Her fingers clumsily fumble for the door handle as she climbs out of the car. I watch her run back to the house, pushing past Helen, who watches me in horror.

  I wave to Helen with my fingers that are still wet from Elliot’s little whore sis
ter.

  Helen turns on her heel and disappears.

  Good riddance.

  After a shower, cleaning any residue of the slutty girl off my person, I exit the bathroom with my towel tied around my waist. I’ve taken up residence in my old room at Windy Hills. For now. Soon, I’ll make some changes.

  “Up.”

  The sound of a young voice steals my attention. Hunter’s child—Harrison is his name I’ve learned—toddles along the hallway, his chubby arms reaching up for me.

  I glare at him. “What, boy?”

  “Up,” he says again. “Up.”

  The hallway is empty, but his nursery room door is ajar. Can’t these half-wits watch their kid?

  “Go to your room,” I bark out.

  He blinks at me, unfazed by my outburst and tone, with wide blue eyes but doesn’t budge. “Up.” He lifts his arms for me to pick him up.

  “Were you born stupid, boy? I said go to your room.” My voice thunders in the hallway.

  “Harrison?” Francesca calls out in a singsong voice as she exits the bedroom. When she sees me, she flinches. “Mr. Heath.”

  I lift a brow, waiting for her to approach. “I’m about to do some work and I don’t need a baby interrupting me,” I snap. “Go on. Take him away.”

  She’s frozen in place, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Up,” Harrison says again, tugging at the bottom of my towel.

  I grumble and fist his overalls at his back. He lets out a squeal of delight as I pick him up as though he’s a fucking puppy trying to piss all over my floor. I stalk down the hallway past her and into his nursery.

  “Stay here,” I order as I deposit him into his crib.

  “Noooo!” he cries out.

  Francesca, finally having found her wits, rushes past me to collect her son. I leave without a backward glance. Stalking down the hallway, I make my way to my room and push inside. I’ve just closed the door behind me when I realize I’m not alone.

  “Did you fuck her?” Catrina asks, her nostrils flaring with fury.

  I frown in confusion. “Francesca? Hell no.”

  She swallows and shakes her head, pointing out the window toward her new home at Low Valley Estate. “Not her. Isabel.”

  I laugh. “Is that what she told you?”

  “Don’t laugh at me, Heath! This is serious. That is my husband’s sister. You don’t get to just fuck her to piss me off!”

  Raising a brow, I take her in. Her cheeks are flushed from anger and her hands are shaking. The dress she’s put on is a simple one that I could get into quickly if I chose to do so. I drop my towel, loving the way her angry eyes turn to lust as she admires my impressive physique. Turns out, working out is a great channel for aggression. I wonder if my countable abs and perfect oblique muscles reflect my anger.

  She brings her hand to her mouth as her gaze settles on my cock. It’s flaccid at the moment, but thoughts of Catrina bouncing on my dick has it thickening between us.

  “Put some clothes on,” she mutters.

  “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” I challenge.

  She nervously twists her massive diamond around her ring finger. “Focus. You fucked Isabel and I won’t let you change the topic.”

  I prowl closer to her, but she doesn’t retreat. Once my cock is pressed against her stomach, I run my fingers through her silky tresses. “I didn’t fuck her.”

  “But Helen said she was straddling you in your car and—”

  “Helen makes shit up,” I snap. “Nosy bitch.”

  “So you didn’t do anything with Isabel?”

  I press my thumb to her pouty bottom lip, missing the way it feels against my flesh. “I didn’t say that.”

  Her lashes blink rapidly at me. “What?”

  “She came on to me. I fingered her. Poor thing couldn’t handle a love bite so she ran off crying,” I say with an evil grin.

  Catrina growls and slaps me. “You asshole!”

  When she starts to slap me again, I grab a handful of her hair, pulling her close to my face. “I’m an asshole because you care so much about her virtue or because you don’t want me with anyone else?”

  She tries to look away, but I tighten my grip in her hair.

  “Tell me,” I hiss, my mouth close to hers. “Tell me. Are you jealous, Catrina?” I brush my lips across hers. “Because I’m fucking blind with rage over the fact Elliot Motherfucking Lincoln gets to stick his mediocre dick in you whenever he wants to.”

  Tears well in her eyes. “I don’t love him.”

  “No, you love me, which makes all of this so fucked up.”

  “I do love you,” she agrees. “We can be together. Like old times. He doesn’t have to know.” She starts to unzip her dress and I shake my head.

  Catrina loves her secrets.

  “Get on your knees.”

  Fire blazes in her eyes. “What? No.”

  “Now, love.”

  She softens and allows me to ease her to the floor. My cock bobs in her face. Her gaze is challenging as she looks up at me. I simply lift a brow and silently say, If you love me like you say, suck my fucking dick, love.

  Her left hand wraps around my thick cock and her diamond glimmers in the light. Satisfaction trickles through me. There’s no sweeter revenge than being able to take the very thing your enemy adores the most and bend it to your fucking will.

  “Suck my dick and tell me you could never love him like you love me,” I sneer, never letting up the death grip I have on her hair.

  Her tongue darts out and she licks my tip, sending shivers of pleasure rippling through me. “Always you, Heath.”

  She slides her juicy lips around my hardness and eases down as far as she can go. I let out a groan of pleasure. The tip of my dick teases the back of her throat, but my practiced whore doesn’t gag.

  “Do you suck his dick?” I demand but keep her head stationed over my cock.

  Tears well in her eyes as she tries to shake her head. I push forward into her throat and my eyes fall shut. Fuck, I’ve missed this—missed us.

  “Good girl,” I hiss out.

  She gurgles and slobbers but otherwise takes my cock like she has long since perfected how to do. When I’m about to come, I pull out and stare down at her beautiful face. My fist rubs up and down my length until I explode. White ribbons of cum splatter on her smooth flesh. Her eyes flutter shut as more cum clings to her thick black lashes. I love that I’ve just defiled what legally belongs to Elliot Lincoln, and I’ve done it in that motherfucker Hunter Crenshaw’s house.

  Oh, how easy it is.

  When I’m finished, I step away and pick up the discarded towel before tossing it at her. She swipes away my mess and then stands quickly.

  “I don’t want you seeing Isabel,” she bites out.

  I bypass her to grab some boxers from a drawer. Once I’ve put them on, I stroke my fingers through her hair. “You’re not allowed to be jealous, Catrina. You’re married, remember?”

  “Heath…”

  “I have some work to do. You know the way out.”

  Helen

  The Present…

  “UGH, HE’S BEING DIFFICULT,” EMILY groans. “He’s toying with her.”

  “That’s Mr. Heath for you,” I agree.

  Her phone buzzes and she sighs.

  Finn: You can’t ignore me forever.

  “I can and I will,” Emily says, huffing. Instead of replying to Finn, she texts Porter.

  Emily: You can’t ignore me forever.

  I want to add my two cents, but I bite my tongue instead. I’ve meddled enough in this lifetime to know it doesn’t matter. Love does what it wants in the end.

  “Okay, continue,” she instructs. “This is getting juicy. Don’t leave any detail out.”

  “Very well.”

  Catrina

  The Past…

  “THAT BASTARD!” I SLAM THE front door of the estate and stalk up to Isabel’s bedroom, swinging her door open.
r />   “What the hell were you thinking?” I cut across the room, and grabbing a handful of her hair, I drag her out of her bed and onto the floor. “He’s not yours! He doesn’t even want you. Don’t you ever touch him again.” I climb onto Isabel, who is crying like the damn baby she is and, winding my hand back, I slap her right across her face.

  “Catrina!” Helen shouts, running into the room and pulling me off Isabel before I can slap her again. “What has gotten into you?” she admonishes, but I ignore her, shooting daggers at Isabel. Helen reaches down and helps her up, moving her hand from her face to check out the damage. Such a whiny little girl. It was just a slap. I watch her cry crocodile tears to Helen.

  “Oh for God’s sake.” I roll my eyes at her dramatics. “It won’t even bruise.” She should’ve thought about the consequences of her actions before she threw herself at Heath.

  “What is going on here?” Elliot enters the room, his eyes taking in the situation.

  “Catrina attacked me,” Isabel cries.

  “Why would she attack you?” Elliot asks, confused.

  “Because…” she begins. My eyes meet Isabel’s and my brows rise, silently daring her to tell Elliot she let Heath finger her. When she cries harder, not answering, I hide my grin. That’s right, skank, you wouldn’t dare tell your dear old brother the truth. We both know you don’t have the guts.

  “She borrowed my dress and didn’t give it back,” I say and Helen shoots me a shrewd look. Fuck off, witch.

  “A new dress can be purchased. Right now I need to speak to my wife in our room, please.” Elliot grasps hold of my elbow and guides me down the hall to our bedroom and into our sitting room. Once we’re inside, he closes the door and gives me a knowing glance.

  “Want to tell me what’s really going on?” he questions.

  “I already told you,” I snap. “If you don’t believe me, that’s on you.”

  Elliot cuts across the room and backs me up against the wall. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, wife! Helen saw you follow after Heath! Did you fuck him?” His nose finds its way to my neck and he sniffs me like a dog.