When it Raynes: Chapter 2
When it Raynes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Frost Industries Book 1)
The smirk tugging at my lips is almost impossible to smother, but I do my best to train my face into a polite smile. Emerson, or Em as her father called her, is eye fucking me six ways from Sunday. Her vibrant green eyes drag slowly down my body, as if undressing me with her eyes before falling on my outstretched hand.
Iâve been too busy finding her reaction to me amusing that Iâve barely taken the time to take her in. Sheâs fucking stunning. Not like those Page Six girls Storm is always seen with, but authentically gorgeous.
Itâs been a long time since a woman has reacted this way to me, speechless and shy, and my cock seems to like the show sheâs putting on for me.
Iâm used to women falling over themselves, and others, to get to me, but I canât remember the last time I saw this shade of pink on a womanâs cheeks, and it sets something off inside me that I donât recognize. Something that has been dormant for as long as I can remember, maybe even my entire life.
I canât put my finger on what is so different about this woman, but at least sheâll make the community service Wynter is making me do a little more interesting. Not that I begrudge giving back, because I absolutely donât. Frost Industries gives millions of dollars to charity every year. We didnât come from money. Our parents were hustling every day when we were kids to build the empire we have today.
There were skipped meals, missed field trips, and a period of time when we lived in our dadâs car. Thankfully that was when Wynter was too young to remember, and Snow hadnât been born yet.
Iâm a selfish fuck in most parts of my life. I like what I like, and I live my life the way I want to, but I will always give back to my community because when we were in need, places like The Chicago Center for Youth were there for us. I came to a place just like this after school every day while my parents were doing what they had to do to put food on the table.
My hand is still held in front of me, waiting for Emerson to shake it. I wonder idly if John has noticed the immediate connection sizzling between us, or whether he is completely oblivious, but I canât tear my eyes away from Emerson long enough to check. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say heâs in denial about his little girl growing up and doesnât realize that just the sight of his daughter is enough to make me need to rearrange my pants.
Her eyes are the most stunning shade of green I have ever seen in my life, so deep Iâm sure they could pass as emeralds. Her auburn hair is loose over her shoulders and I long to hold it in my fist as I fuck her from behind, slamming into the paradise she has hidden between her legs.
Filthy images filter through my mind, the idea of corrupting the innocent girl in front of me almost enough to make me come in my pants. Innocence radiates from her like itâs radioactive. She may not be untouched, but sheâs completely inexperienced with the darker tastes in life.
Fuck. She is stunning. And she would look all the more pretty tied to my bed with black tear stains down her cheeks as I tortured her, bringing her to the edge of pleasure over and over again but never letting her fall over the edge. Flipping her over and spanking her until her ass turned the most delectable shade of red before starting the whole process again. I have to hold back the groan that rises in my throat at the thought.
âI wonât bite.â Hard. The word remains unspoken as I push my hand closer to Emerson, but itâs a lie, regardless. I would kill to sink my teeth into her silky skin, to see my marks marring her milky flesh.
Emersonâs eyes shoot to mine and her cheeks heat. The thing about being so pale is that thereâs no hiding, and I fucking love it. I donât ever want my woman to be able to hide from me. Not her pain. Not her pleasure. Not even her embarrassment. Like I said, Iâm a selfish bastard and I want it all.
My woman⦠where the fuck did that come from? I donât claim women. At least not for more than a night, maybe a weekend if they really pique my interest. But never for an extended period of time.
Emersonâs hand finally slips into mine, distracting me from where my mind threatens to go. The moment our hands touch, an electric current runs between us, the force of which almost makes me lose my balance. I canât remember ever having a reaction like this to another person, and that thought is unsettling as its meaning washes over me.
Our eyes lock and for the first time since I caught sight of her across the room, I notice the dark smudges under her eyes. It looks like she hasnât slept in a week, and a streak of protectiveness comes to life in my gut. The emotions this woman is dragging from my cold, black heart should have me running out the door, but Iâm intrigued. I want to know more about the beautiful creature that has my mind, body, and soul curious, not just my cock.
âItâs nice to meet you, Mr. Saint James.â Emerson smiles politely, but itâs fake. The sadness lurking behind the vibrant green calls to me. It begs me to take it all away, and for some reason, I want to.
âRayne. Please.â There are so many things I would like to hear her call me. Sir. Master. Daddy. But my name will do⦠for now at least.
âI canât tell you how excited we are to have you here.â John grins and I immediately drop Emersonâs hand. The moment our skin connected, the rest of the world disappeared, her dad included. How long had we been standing there, staring at one another with our hands linked?
Emerson looks startled as if the same spell that cast over me had charmed her too and had been broken just like mine was.
âIâm excited to be here,â I tell him. Usually when those words leave my mouth, itâs a lie, nothing but a nicety, but not this time.
âWhen will you be starting with us, Mr.⦠Rayne?â Emerson asks nonchalantly, as if sheâs indifferent. But thatâs not the case. No, Emerson is anything but disinterested. She is just as affected by me as I am her, whether she wants to admit it or not.
âTomorrow.â I smile.
Johnâs head whips to me and I know itâs because I told him I would start next week before his daughter walked into the room and became the object of my affections, but I ignore him, barely even glancing in his direction before returning my gaze to Emerson.
She nods once. âIâll have some paperwork for you to fill out, just for health and safety, those kinds of things.â Her eyes are looking anywhere but at me, and something deep inside me, the depraved part that canât wait to corrupt the little lamb standing in front of me with innocence dripping from her, relishes in putting her on edge.
âSure.â I adjust my suit jacket to give my hands something to do, to keep myself from reaching for her just to feel the electricity again.
âEm has been working so hard on our charity gala. There are still some tables available if youâd like to come. I know youâre a busy man, and weâre already so grateful for you volunteering your time.â John smiles.
Is that why she looks so tired? Because every spare moment is spent trying to raise the money to keep this place open? I look around at the gym weâre standing in, taking it in for the first time since I walked in. The basketball court needs to be re-polished. The paint on the walls is cracked and aged. The equipment looks like itâs about twenty years past its use-by date. The entire place needs work.
I look to Emerson just in time to see her roll her eyes, and a smirk tugs at my lips. I knew she would be sassy. Under the polite exterior is a firecracker, and I canât wait to set her off. âHow many tables do you have left?â I ask, pulling my phone from my jacket pocket and shooting off a text to Wynter to let her know what Iâm doing. She handles the finances for the legitimate side of Frost Industries, including all charitable donations.
âThree,â Emerson replies.
I nod. âIâll take them.â
John stands there for a moment and stares at me, like he thinks Iâm joking, but when I donât laugh, his face turns serious. âAre you sure?â
âAbsolutely. My brother and sisters have plenty of friends who love an excuse to dress up.â I shrug and look to my phone when it buzzes with my sisterâs response.
I shove the phone back into my pocket and look up at John and Emerson staring at me like Iâve grown a second head. âI can write you a check now? Otherwise, if you would prefer cash or bank transfer I can organize that?â I look around and hope they donât ask for cash. Five dollars would get stolen if it was left unattended in this place, let alone what I assume would be a few grand.
âThatâs very kind of you, Rayne.â Emerson seems anything but impressed, but that same polite smile is pasted on her face. I wonder how hard I would have to push for her to unleash the other side of her. The one lurking at the edge of her carefully preserved exterior. Would I have to make her hate me? Or could I push her just hard enough for her to snap?
Would she hit me? Maybe slap me across the face?
The thought makes my cock jump and I know I need to think about something else before one of them notices my very obvious hard-on.
âA check would be great. Thank you so much for your generosity.â John reaches for my hand and I quickly move to shake it.
âDonât mention it.â I smile. My intentions are anything but pure. No. I have a feeling I would use any excuse to be as close to Emerson as possible until I can work her out of my system.
I say my goodbyes but canât find an excuse to touch her again. Thereâs plenty of time though. Before my car door is closed, I have Everettâs number dialed.
âWhatâs up, brother?â
âI need a favor.â
âIs it really a favor when I work for you?â he scoffs.
I scrub my hand down my face. âIt is when it has nothing to do with Frost.â
âIâm intrigued. Go on.â
âI need every bit of information you can get me about Emerson Miller.â
âConsider it done.â And a moment later the line goes dead.
Everett is the best tech guy Iâve ever come across, and he has a no questions asked policy that gets him extra points with me. If he wasnât obsessed with my little sister I would like him a whole lot more, but beggars canât be choosers. I start the car and peel out of the parking lot before the hubcaps on my Mercedes can be stolen.
Hopefully it wonât be long before I can find out everything there is to know about Emerson.