What He Executes (What He Wants, Book Twenty-Three) Page 3

  “Good, you’re up,” he said, as if it was noon and I’d been sleeping in. “I’m going for a run.”

  “At this time of night?” I shook my head. “Noah, that’s insane. Come on, come back to bed.”

  “Get dressed.” He walked out of the bathroom past me. He’d left a mess of everything that had been in the cabinets. Shampoo and face treatments and bottles of shaving cream were strewn across the counter. In the middle of it all was the purple container that held my birth control pills. He must have been counting them, making sure I was taking them.

  I remembered what he’d said on the plane on our way to see Lameuix, about how he was having thoughts of impregnating me and how no matter what, it was important that he didn’t.

  “Noah,” I said, following him into the bedroom.

  He was at my dresser, pulling out a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie.

  “Here.” He handed them to me. “Get dressed.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I told you, I’m going for a run.” He was sitting on the bed now, slipping his feet into his sneakers.

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “You will wait outside.”

  “What?”

  “In the limo. It’s parked outside, guarded by security.” As soon as we’d gotten back from upstate, Noah had fired everyone on our current security detail and hired a brand new team. If I’d thought the other team had been scary, I’d had no idea.

  These new guys were serious. All ex-FBI or CIA, their eyes dead from the horrors they’d seen. They all carried guns and wore black glasses and looked as if they’d been sent straight over from central casting.

  “You want me to wait in a limo outside while you go for a run?” I repeated, confused.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s crazy.” I shook my head. “Why can’t I just stay here?” I wanted to ask why he had to go for a run at three in the morning in the first place, but I was pretty sure I already knew the answer. He was filled with anxiety about what had happened. He wanted to go for a run to work out whatever it was that was inside of him.

  “Because I need to know you’re safe.”

  “I’ll be safe here,” I said.

  “I won’t be able to see you.”

  “How will you be able to see me when I’m sitting in a limo if you’re going to be running?”

  “I’m taking a specific route. Now get dressed. I will not ask you again.” His eyes glinted and I knew what he was talking about. If I didn’t do what he said, there’d be punishments. I was almost tempted to rebel, if only because my body craved his. He hadn’t touched me since we’d been home, and I wanted him, wanted his lips on me, his hands, his belt.

  I sighed as he turned and walked out of the room.

  What was he talking about, a certain route? I thought as I shed my pajamas and pulled on the yoga pants and sweatshirt. He couldn’t possibly mean he was going to run around the block or something, did he? That was insane.

  “Charlotte.” His voice came from the front hallway, rough and demanding.

  “Yes, I’m coming.”

  I grabbed my iPad off the nightstand.

  I was wide awake now, and if I was going to be stuck sitting in a car while Noah ran around the block like a crazy person, I figured I should at least have something to occupy my time.

  He was beautiful when he ran, his form perfect, the muscles in his legs rippling and clenching, his body moving through the quiet, middle-of-the-night streets of New York exactly how he moved through life, with purpose and intent, making it look effortless.

  Every time he went by he glanced at the limo, making sure I was okay, even though there was a security guard standing outside with a sidearm.

  The security guard had close-cropped blond hair and a nose that looked as if it had been broken a few times. I’d asked Noah his name, but Noah had insisted I not know anything personal about the security detail – even their names – since he thought it bred a familiarity that might make it impossible for them to do their jobs.

  After about forty-five minutes, Noah stopped making his laps around the block and slid into the limo next to me.

  He reached into the center console and pulled out a bottle of water and took a long pull.

  He reached behind him and pulled off his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. The muscles and skin of his body glistened with exertion.

  God, he was so fucking sexy.

  “Can we go inside now?” I asked.

  He glanced at me. “They’re checking the apartment.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not one for kidding, Charlotte.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Funny.” But he didn’t laugh. Instead, he took another sip of water and glanced at the screen on my iPad. I had my internet browser open, and I’d been googling law schools in New York. “What are you looking at?”

  “I was just…I’m thinking that it’s probably not the best idea to go back to Middleton. I’ll be behind, but I just… I don’t think I can do it.” I wasn’t even sure I could get into another school – there was the problem of the disciplinary hearing that had been called about my situation with Noah, not to mention all the horrible things that had happened to me that were connected to Professor Worthington. But I couldn’t go back to Milddleton, either. Not after everything that had happened.

  “It’s a good idea,” Noah said. “That school is bullshit. I should sue them and get them shut down.”

  “For what?”

  “For putting you in danger.” He took another sip of his water and glared out the window. I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he really thought he had the power to get an entire school shut down just because he thought they’d put me in danger. After a second I decided that he did.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not even sure I can get into another school,” I said. “Because of the disciplinary hearing.”

  “The disciplinary hearing is a moot point now that Lameuix has been arrested.” He’d told me this already, that now that Lameuix was in jail, there was no reason for whoever had reported me to the disciplinary committee to move forward with their complaint. I’d found the girls from Force, and trying to stop me from doing that had been their reason for trying to get me thrown out of school in the first place.

  Noah also seemed to think that now that the professor had been found and arrested, that it was now clear that he’d been following me, that the police would drop the idea that I was the one who had killed Jason Cartwright. I was inclined to believe him, since I hadn’t heard from them since I’d been back in New York.

  “I just need a new start,” I said. “I’m going to go down to Middleton tomorrow to talk to them about withdrawing and make sure everything’s settled with the hearing.”

  Noah took the iPad and angled it toward him. “NYU?” he asked when he saw the home page on the screen. “Why not Columbia?”

  “I don’t know if I could get into Columbia. They don’t take many transfer students.”

  “I know the head of admissions. I’ll make a call.”

  “No.” I reached out and took the iPad away from him, a little rougher than I’d intended. “I mean, I want to get in on my own.”

  “Fine. Columbia is a too far, anyway. And NYU is perfectly acceptable.”

  “I don’t mind taking the subway to Columbia.”

  “You wouldn’t take the subway, Charlotte, you would take a car.”

  Oh. Right. I was still having trouble getting used to the fact that in Noah’s world, money meant nothing. I wondered if I would ever get used to it, if when I was his wife and half of his fortune was legally mine, if I would still have the urge to ride subways, if I could stop myself from constantly calculating how much it cost to have a car service on call 24/7.

  “And besides, it has nothing to do with the car,” Noah went on. “A trip that far uptown would be a logistical nightmare for security.” His phone buzzed from the pocke
t of his shorts. He pulled it out and scrolled through an email, typing a reply while muttering something about people being inept.

  “Wait, what would be a challenge for security?” I asked, not sure I’d understood.

  “Keeping tabs on you at Columbia.”

  My mouth dropped. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  He sent his email, the whoosh sound from his phone echoing through the car. “Relax, Charlotte. If your heart is set on Columbia, I will work it out. You don’t have to worry.”

  “I’m not worried about Columbia, Noah, I’m worried about the fact that you assume a security detail is going to be following me to a new school.” I was leaving Middleton to hopefully leave behind the fact people might know my history—showing up at a new school with a security detail was like having a big neon arrow pointing at me that flashed GIRL WITH BAGGAGE.

  “I’m not assuming anything, Charlotte. It’s non-negotiable.”

  I started to get out of the car, but he reached over and grabbed my hips, pulling me back down on the seat.

  His dark eyes blazed with hunger. He hadn’t touched me since we’d gotten back from upstate, and I knew he must have been pent up. His need to dominate me must have been at an all-time high. Usually he needed to take his emotions out on me sexually a couple of times a day. “You know my first priority is to keep you safe. Always.” His hands tightened around my waist as if to illustrate his point.

  “But I am safe. There’s no one after me anymore. Professor Worthington is in jail. Bia’s dead, Lameuix is in jail. Everything is on tape. They won’t be getting out for a very long time.”

  “He got out once, he can get out again.”

  “Noah.” I reached up and touched his face. “Please, Noah, I just want things to be normal.” I craved it. This was finally our chance. The Lilah Parks case was over. Noah had reported everything he knew about it to the police, then recused himself. Colin Worthington was in jail. Lameuix was in jail, Bia was dead, the girls had been released. It was our one chance for a normal life. “Please, let’s go inside.” I started to get out of the car again, but he pulled me back to him.

  “This will never be normal, Charlotte. The way I feel about you, the way you make me feel is not normal.” His voice was ragged and rough, and it brushed over my skin like warm sandpaper, leaving me tingling and wanting.

  “I get that,” I said. He was obsessed with me, and I with him. We wouldn’t ever be normal, not after everything we’d been through together, our scars and history, past and present, that bound us together like an invisible tether. “But we need to move on at least a little bit. I want to marry you, to start our lives together.”

  His eyes shone with emotion, and I reached up and ran my fingertips over the strong muscles of his bare shoulders.

  “Please,” I said.

  “I keep thinking about how I brought you there,” he said, his hands moving from my waist and tightening around my forearms. “It was my fault you were in danger.”

  “No, it wasn’t your fault,” I said. “And now it’s over. Reliving it over and over isn’t going to help anything.”

  He reached up and smoothed a strand of hair back from my face.

  “Please,” I said. “You can’t control everything, Noah. It’s impossible.”

  “I can’t let you get hurt again.”

  “I can’t be stifled, Noah. I can’t start a new school with security following me around. What’s the point?”

  “The point is that you’ll be safe.”

  “The point is that it will make me a freak! If you’re going to have security following me around, there’s no point of even starting a new school.”

  “That’s the way it is.” He said it so matter-of-fact that it infuriated me.

  I tried to slide away from him, but he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back to him, his lips sealing over mine. His tongue pushed past my resistance, his tongue tangling and dancing against mine. He held the back of my head and deepened the kiss.

  I tried to pull away, but I knew it was useless.

  When he finally ended the kiss, he continued to hold the back of my head, his tongue tracing a searing trail over my throat. He stared into my eyes, and my breath came in short gasps.

  I ran my hands up over the back of his neck, over the spot where his hair met the smooth skin. We gazed into each other’s eyes as the emotions between us flamed and burned. I loved him so much I could barely take it.

  “I love you,” I whispered. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too,” he said roughly, and the words caused my nipples to peak and my pussy to thrum.

  And then, just like that, he was done behind soft. He grabbed me and flipped me over on the seat, before tugging my yoga pants and panties down until they rested just below the curve of my ass.

  He spanked me, just once, the blow so sharp it stung.

  “Please, Noah,” I said, my eyes filling with hot tears.

  “Is this what you want, baby?” he demanded. “Does this feel normal?”

  He spanked me again, the flesh of my ass jiggling with the intensity. He grabbed my ass cheek and shook it after striking me again.

  I moaned through my tears.

  “That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact. He laid down on top of me, pressing his hard body to mine. He grabbed my hair and pulled it hard, his mouth slanting against mine again as he kissed me again. He moaned into my mouth, the vibration causing me to moan back, leaving me breathless.

  “This is what’s normal for us, baby. You under me, taking a spanking. Your pussy getting wet from the pain. You are submissive to me. I own you, and this is what’s normal. Do you understand?”

  “Noah,” I groaned. I wanted to talk, but I could feel myself melting under his touch, melting under his dirty words and his touch.

  “Do you understand?” He tugged on my hair again.

  “Yes, sir. Yes, I understand.”

  “Good girl.”

  He pulled back from me, giving my ass one final, stinging slap with his open palm before reaching under me and flipping me back over on the seat so that I was on my back.

  He straddled me and ran his hands over my body, grabbing my breasts through my sweatshirt, lifting the weight in his hand and squeezing gently.

  He pushed my hands up over my head and then ran his hands over my body.

  “God, I want to tie you up,” he murmured. His voice was low and heavy, and I watched him over me, shirtless, the golden skin of his bare chest glimmering in the small amount of light that shown in through the windows of the limo. His body was a work of art, every line, every muscle, every tendon seemingly carved from stone.

  He held my wrists up over my head.

  “Charlotte,” he whispered. “Fuck, Charlotte.” Then he released me. “Take off your sweatshirt.”

  I pulled it off, my nipples instantly hardening under the sheer fabric of my bra. He might have had a need to dominate me, but I had a need to be dominated, to be spanked and punished. I needed him to do this to me just as much as he needed to do it to me, and no matter how much I fought against my urges, it was always a losing battle.

  He gazed down at me, then leaned down and brushed his lips over mine so gently I could barely feel them. I raised my head up, greedy for him, wanting his tongue in my mouth, his lips on mine.

  But he pulled away, kissing over my chin, down over my neck, his tongue swirling gently around my pulse point. I gasped and tilted my head back, giving him access to my body.

  His breath skated over my cleavage, down over my rib cage, over my stomach. I arched my back, but he held me down roughly against the seat.

  “Stay still.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You will.”

  “Noah.”

  He ignored my protests and I gathered my self-control and kept my hips on the seat, even as his thumbs dipped low under the waistband of my yoga pants. My fists clenched at my sides and I bit my lip, willing my
self not to move. Defiance would not make him give me what I wanted any faster – in fact, it would most likely only prolong the torture.

  He began to pull my pants down, slowly over my hips, the whole time following their descent with his mouth, kissing under my navel, my thighs, my knees.

  When he finally finished removing them, he kissed the arch of my foot and gazed down at me, spread out for him in just my bra and panties.

  “Jesus,” he murmured. “Look at your tits.”

  He cupped them through my bra, his thumbs moving over my nipples until they were rock hard. His movements were rough, but his touch was feather light. He held my tits in his hands, squeezing roughly, but his fingertips barely brushed the tight peaks of my nipples.

  The contradiction between the two sensations drove me crazy, and before I knew it, I was arching my back again.

  “Naughty girl,” Noah breathed, his hands still kneading my breasts.

  He slid his hands down my sides and hooked his thumbs in the sides of my panties, then pulled the elastic and let it go until it zinged against my skin. The movement tugged my panties down just enough to expose the top of my mound.

  A strangled whimper escaped my lips, and I reached behind me and gripped the handle on the limo door, my fingers digging into the leather.

  Noah loosened the cups of my bra just a little bit, pulling on them until my nipples popped free. He rolled them gently between his fingers, and I arched my back again, wanting his hands and mouth all over me.

  This earned me a hard slap against my tit, and I cried out.

  “Stay still.”

  “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please…” my voice was a breathless whisper, and I couldn’t even finish the sentence, because I wasn’t even sure what I wanted. All I knew was that I wanted more of this, more of him – his hands, his mouth, his cock, his kiss.

  “Please what?”

  “More.”

  “Like this?” His hands came back to my panties, and he pulled the sides down just a tiny bit more, until more of my mound was exposed. “So smooth,” he murmured, bending down to kiss it.

  I arched up into him, and he slapped my panty-covered pussy.