Manwhore +1 (Manwhore, #2)(61)

“I admire you.” I shoot him an awed glance and shake my head. “How you so easily dismiss the attention.”

Then I loosen the elastic band on my hair and pull it to my sides to use it as a curtain to hide my face. He watches me in confusion. I can feel people staring at us now, and uncomfortably, I grab the aviators he just pulled out and slip them on my face.

He looks down at me with a half smile and eyes narrowed in speculation. “Want a fake mustache with that?”

“I’m good.” I grin.

I follow him to the car and we don’t bother to set the bag in the trunk. The car is super spacious anyway. He opens the door before Otis can fully make it and we ease inside.

“Rachel . . .” He falls sober, plucking off the aviators.

I’m smiling, but I also feel ashamed. “Sin, I’m sorry.” I drop my face. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to the attention you get.”

“Don’t notice it. Don’t give it even a moment’s thought. I never do.”

“Hmm.” My mouth twists wryly. “It’s not only the attention, but wondering what lies they’ll put out . . . having no control over that.” I feel my heart squeeze a little as our eyes meet, him sitting across from me, broad and muscular and drop-dead gorgeous. And I admit the closest thing I can say to I love you. “It’s hard when everyone stares at the man you want, and you want him to want nobody but you.”

He simply says two words that melt me.

“He does.”





THE TOY


When I come out in my bikini, Malcolm is leaning on the railing. He seems to be talking to some guys out on the lake. He’s in swim trunks and a polo, his wide torso stretching his shirt in a way that I can see the muscled grooves on his back as he leans forward.

I hear the guys down on the lake daring him to take out his Jet Ski and race them. They’re boasting quite loudly that they’re going to kick his ass this time. “It’s long due, you f*cking bastard!”

In reply to that, Saint lets go a low, throaty laugh, and he yells down at them, “Nah, I’m with a friend today!”

“Lady friend or lady friends?” they bait. But Saint doesn’t bite, and I hear the zoom of Jet Ski motors as they leave.

Barefoot, I kind of stand a few feet away, not knowing what to say. Every muscle on his back and shoulders is visible through the stretch of his shirt as Malcolm jerks a hand over his hair and then he pulls out his phone, starts dabbling.

“Do you know everyone on the lake?”

When he hears my voice, he turns, and the smile he’s wearing fades. There’s a breeze and I hate that my nipples are quick to scream, We’re cold!

I rub my arm and he says, lowering his body sideways onto a nearby chaise, “Come sit.”

He pats the space beside him, and though he looks in control, I see him inhale, very slowly and very deeply. I take the chaise next to his instead, smiling and feeling shy.

“This is . . . well, I guess you bought me this. Thank you.”

He doesn’t look at the bikini; he’s looking at my face, almost as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “You’re welcome.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and his voice drops a decibel. “You’re making my mouth water.”

I stare at his sparkling green eyes, at his seductive smile, not knowing what to say.

A nervous laugh leaves me.

But he just stares, his extremely intense attention homed in on me. Water laps against the boat as the Chicago wind does its thing.

“Do you believe your father’s interest in Edge is purely business?” I ask him, remembering the reporter we just encountered.

“He’s competitive. I’m like him in that respect.” His lips curl in a sneer as he turns to contemplate the lake water.

“He’s competing against . . .”

“Me.”

“Goading you?”

“Using you.” He levels his stare on me. “He sees you as my weakness. He’s right. He’s waiting to see if I rise to the challenge. He’s been wanting to show me he still has power over me for years.”

Silence.

The heavy kind that weighs on your heart.

“After Mother died, I broke free of him. Moved out, left the family business. I was old enough to take my stock. I sold my shares to his worst enemy, forced him into bed with the last man he wanted there.” He snarls and laughs, his eyes gleaming ruthlessly now. “Payback for all the times he cheated on my mother.”

I wait with bated breath for him to tell me more, and it doesn’t take him long. It sounds as if he’s speaking about someone else, he’s that distanced from his father.

My father died; his father is alive, but somehow it feels as if we both grew up without one.

“With that money, I started my empire. I supposed he thought I’d lose it all on whores and Vegas. I don’t need to pay women to be with me. And I have better sense than Vegas.” He smirks proudly at that. “No one has ever underestimated me like my father.”

“What happened to the family business?”

“Weakened. He lost control of his own board. Had to buy back his own stock to recoup the majority of his business. By then he’d formed a bad reputation. Not paying suppliers. He couldn’t stand growing weaker while his weak kid grew better and stronger.”