His Brutal Game by Audrey Rush

EPILOGUE

Maisie

one year later

The morning light came through the curtains, stirring me awake. The other side of the bed was still warm. Sleeping in for Wilder meant seven a.m. The man rarely slept.

By the time I shuffled into some pajamas and slippers and started a pot of coffee, Wilder emerged, clean and ready for a day of work.

“You’re getting a shift in before the party?” I asked.

“An hour or two,” he said.

Was he getting ahead for tomorrow’s livestock orders, or catching up on leftover orders from yesterday? It was impossible to tell. But the sooner he was done, the sooner he’d get home, the sooner we’d be able to enjoy our time together.

Our one-year-anniversary party was wholly unnecessary, but because my parents hadn’t been at the wedding, it was a chance for them to enjoy our legal—and now, romantic—union. The Feldman brothers had paid for most of it, but my mother had insisted on making a cake. It was three tiers with red roses on white frosting. It was gorgeous. And it belonged at a proper wedding, but no one minded that.

We had rented this ballroom in Pierce. The brothers thought it was best if my parents never came to the farm, and I definitely agreed. My parents honestly believed my husband owned a ranch with his brother, which was technically true. Fiona knew something was up, but she never asked questions. She knew better when it came to me now. She was simply relieved that I was happy for once.

Sheer drapes cascaded along the edges of the ballroom. Endless bottles of champagne were downed, appetizer plates emptied. And after the expected greetings, my parents found a table to themselves at the back of the room, so they could people-watch the dance floor. Almost like what Wilder and I were doing now.

Wilder kept an arm around me, eyeing the crowd, a sudden blank stare rolling over his eyes. I knew that look.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“We invited Hatchcom Focus here.”

In the last year, with Forrest out of the picture, Sawyer had expanded the company, but that meant more competition, like Hatchcom Focus. Sawyer had been opening discussions for an acquisition, but nothing had been set in stone yet. The Feldman Farms had been in business for a long time here, and though the brothers liked to believe they were invincible, they knew they had to stay one step ahead of all others. Including Hatchcom Focus.

I kissed Wilder’s cheek, eyeing my sister. “Sister time,” I said. “Have fun with Hatchcom Focus.”

Wilder nodded. “Meet me at the pool after.”

We kissed, then I bounced over to Fiona. She crossed her arms, sipping the champagne like it was water.

“Slow down there,” I said. “When was the last time you drank that much?”

“I can’t shake it,” Fiona said. “It’s like I know him.” She subtly nodded at Sawyer, then turned away, as if she was afraid of him seeing her. She focused on me, though it was obvious her mind was on him. “Is he staring at me?”

Sawyer’s eyes were, in fact, glued to my sister. He didn’t even notice me watching him.

“Yep. Why?”

“Doesn’t he seem off to you?”

Yes, the leader of a hitman-for-hire execution company would have to be at least a little off. But Fiona didn’t know about that.

“You know, you seem off to me right now,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“I feel like I’ve met him before. Like I know him from somewhere, you know?”

“He’s your brother-in-law. You know that, right?” I squeezed her hand. “I’m sure you’ve run into each other in the past year. Family gatherings. Pick-ups. Carpools. Whatever.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

I studied Sawyer. He had never spoken of Fiona, but now that I thought of it, whenever I invited her to the farm, he happened to be gone.

Perhaps he was avoiding her.

Now, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. But that wasn’t unusual. Fiona was classically gorgeous.

“Maybe I’m making things up,” Fiona said. “Who knows? Everything has been weird lately.”

Fiona had a strong internal compass, but she also had a hard time believing in her own instincts, especially since she had dropped out of medical school. But I trusted Sawyer, to some extent, at least. No—better put, I trusted my husband to tell me if my sister was under any sort of threat.

Which was why I had chosen not to tell her about the Feldman Farm yet.

“If I find anything out, I’ll let you know,” I said. “But come on. Guys are always checking you out. I know you’re hot. But when will you figure out that you’re hot?”

We hugged each other, then two small hands grabbed my hips from behind. “My sisters from another mister!” Bambi said. She kissed my cheek, then Fiona’s.

“I’m glad you got time off!” I said. “Are they working you hard?”

She shifted her weight to one hip, proud to be the new manager at The Trap. “The owner likes to think that he runs the show, but I do,” she winked. Once Bambi had gotten over the shock of not having to work to survive anymore, she had gravitated toward The Trap. It was what she knew best. She didn’t want to do any more dates, but she liked being able to look out for the dancers who did. And with the trust the Feldmans had secured for her, she didn’t have to worry about money anymore. She could do the kinds of jobs she wanted.

And with a woman managing the club, the dancers could advocate for themselves in a way that they hadn’t before.

“How are you doing, Fiona?” Bambi asked.

“You know,” Fiona said. “Surviving.”

Bambi and I both rolled our eyes. Fiona’s version of ‘surviving’ was a lot different from ours. But I eyed Bambi, warning her not to tell my sister anything about what we had been through. The longer Fiona was able to stay innocent about our sex work and the Feldman Farm, the better.

“Your man is waiting by the pool,” Bambi whispered.

“Thanks,” I said.

Once I made sure that everyone was occupied and entertained, I slipped out the double doors in the back of the ballroom. Wilder stood next to the pool, the light from under the water silhouetting his body. He was handsome in a suit, but it wasn’t him. He was the man in long sleeves. Sweat on his skin. A gleam in his stormy eyes that saw past everything. That was my Wilder.

I locked the doors behind me. Wilder turned; his shirt was unbuttoned. I ran a hand over the hair on his chest, relishing in him.

Wasting no time, he brought his lips to mine, searching me. Though we had more practice since our first kiss, he was still forceful, still demanding in everything he did. And I loved it. He picked up the sides of my dress until his warm hands were on my waist. I lifted my hands, letting him undress me. He growled when he saw my bare skin, then cupped my pussy, rubbing his palm on my clit, his cock hard against his leg. I pressed a hand into him, enjoying his length, and he unbuckled and unzipped himself, then brought out a pair of handcuffs.

“Can you be quiet?” he murmured. Sawyer was in the ballroom, and he knew we were into some screwed-up stuff. Fiona had an idea, but she, luckily, didn’t know the details.

As long as Sawyer and Fiona were in there, distracting the rest of the group, no one would hear us.

“Yes,” I said.

I put my hands behind my back, the light from the pool rippling over my curves. The metal cuffs clicked together, binding my wrists. He lowered me into the water, and though we were in the shallow end, it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

He pressed my stomach against the side of the pool, knowing exactly where the jet stream was, the water pounding into my clit. He cupped my neck, stuffing his nose in my hair, gripping my ass as he enjoyed me. His cock pressed against my back, full and hard and thick. The fucking would come later.

Right now, it was about what Wilder wanted, and he wanted to feel my power against his.

Grabbing my cuffed wrists, he pulled me under the water, staring at me through the clear liquid. He was calm—a bubble floating above me—then he mounted my head, his cock pressed against my hair, as he kept me under the water. I wiggled my body, trying to get out from under him, but he kept me still until my garbled yelp mumbled through the liquid, bubbles floating up with me.

He let go. I gasped in the fresh air, just long enough before Wilder pressed his mouth to mine. With my nipples between his fingers, he pinched and twisted me until I was moaning against him. I rubbed myself on his thigh, humping him like I would never be able to come fast enough. Hair was matted to my face, my makeup streaking across my skin, but Wilder was stoic, staring into me, always seeing more than I let out. Studying me. Seeing how much he could get away with. The worst ways he could get me off.

His hand went down to my pussy, massaging my clit, the pressure hard, then he swiftly pulled me deeper into the water. I danced on my tip-toes, barely keeping above the surface, trusting him, trying not to let the fear get to me. To focus on pleasure.

But the struggle was surfacing.

I had known exactly what he wanted to do for our anniversary. And I had agreed. Because it thrilled me as much as it frightened me, and there was no one in the world I could do this with. Only Wilder.

“I love you,” I said, and he pushed me in deeper. I kicked my feet, doing my best to float with my hands bound behind my back. He held me by the waist, giving me a few seconds of buoyancy before the inevitable came crashing back. Forrest may have been gone, Sawyer may have gotten over their sibling rivalry, and my biological family may have been back in my life, but that didn’t mean that everything was pure now.

For us, there would always be this: the danger of death mixed with our sex, lust lurking deep in the water, waiting to take us under. Because no matter how hard we tried, this was who we were. And we didn’t want it any other way.

He yanked me up by my hair. I gasped, taking in a breath.

“I love you so much,” he said.

Then he pulled on handcuffs until I was underwater again and I knew he would never let me go.

THE END