Corrupted--A Scorching Hot Romance Read online

  What the hell, Londyn? When did you get so easy?

  He laughs, and kisses my nose. “Come on.”

  “Wait, where are we going again?”

  “Don’t you have some costumes to deliver?”

  “Yeah, but we sort of got sidetracked last night, and I still don’t have a sewing machine.”

  “Yeah, about that little interruption up against my front door. Sorry, not sorry,” he jokes and takes my hand to pull me up. I stand before him completely naked and his nostrils flare. Without a word, he goes to his closet, grabs a button-down shirt and drapes it over my shoulders. I grin, loving the way he looks at me with such hunger. I do this to him. I can’t even begin to describe how that makes me feel.

  “Come with me.” He takes my hand, and leads me down the hall and into another room. I come to an abrupt halt when I see a Janome HD-3000 heavy-duty sewing machine.

  “I promised this last night, and I’m a man of my word, so I apologize for not having it here then, but under the circumstances...”

  “Cason.”

  “What, you don’t like it?”

  I step farther into the room, my gaze going back and forth between the top-of-the-line machine and the man who is seriously slaying my heart, scoring it so many times I’m not sure I’ll be able to put it back together when I leave here.

  He dumps the bag of costumes onto the table. “Luis said this one would be the best for thick fabrics.”

  I open my arms, my palms up. “How...when... I don’t understand?”

  He grins. “You needed a machine, so I got you one.”

  “How did you get it here so fast?”

  “Let’s just say I have friends.”

  I nod. “Good friends.”

  “Good friends,” he agrees.

  I turn to him, and put my hands on his cheeks. I’m so glad he has good people in his life, people he can count on. He deserves that. “Thank you. I’ll be able to get the costumes fixed faster now, and I can deliver them later today. They don’t need them until tomorrow, but I’d like to get them done right away just in case.”

  “We have another machine coming, one more suited for delicate material, in case you want to work on some of your own designs. Later this afternoon we can go pick out some fabric. Luis suggested a great manufacturer just outside of Nice. It’s where he goes, and he called ahead to give us access. I think it will be a nice drive today.”

  Incredulous I stand still and stare at him. What did I ever do to deserve all this from him? His knuckles brush with mine, and from downstairs my cell blares. I tense, instantly recognizing the caller from the personalized ring. I ignore it, and Cason frowns.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?”

  “No,” I say quickly, too quickly. Cason’s eyes move over my face, but I don’t want to tell him I’m avoiding my father and all the ridiculous demands he’s placing on me. I’m not going to risk Cason kicking me to the curb if he found out what I was really up to.

  “How about something to eat,” he says, and I’m grateful when he doesn’t push. “Then you can get to work on the costumes.” He gives me a tap on the ass. “Go ahead and shower. I’ll make us something to eat.”

  I nod and force my legs to carry me to the master en suite. He’s being so incredibly sweet and giving, I can’t help but want to do something special for him, something important. I turn on the spray and as I wait for it to warm, an idea forms, takes shape in my brain. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to pull it off, especially without him finding out, but dammit, I’m going to try. Yeah, a Christmas morning to change his outlook and give him happier memories is just what Cason needs. What we all need.

  With a renewed determination about me, I shower quickly, and within twenty minutes I step into the kitchen and find Cason on the phone. He has that familiar smile on his face and his words are soft. He hangs up and turns my way.

  “Was that Peyton?” I ask.

  “How did you know?” He hands me another cup of coffee and divvies up the eggs and bacon. The toast pops and he slides a piece onto each plate.

  “I remember that smile.”

  He laughs. “When did it get so hard raising a kid sister?”

  “Ah, that’s your problem,” I say as I slide a mouthful of eggs into my mouth. Cason’s gaze drops, settles on my lips and my insides buzz to life.

  “Meaning?” he asks.

  “She’s not a kid anymore, Cason.”

  “She’ll always be a kid to me,” he snarls grouchily.

  “I’m sure she loves that attitude.” He snatches his fork from the table, his scowl still in place. “What did you guys like to do as kids? What games did you play?” I ask.

  “That’s a strange question.”

  “I used to love snakes and ladders.”

  He smiles. “That was one of Peyton’s favorites, and one Christmas we were together, with foster parents, and she got this Tamagotchi that she was crazy about, but it went missing. I actually think it was stolen.”

  “Really? By who?”

  He toys with his eggs. “The fifteen-year-old who didn’t want us in his house. Things got physical between us.” He shakes his head. “Shit, if I hadn’t decked that asshole, maybe we wouldn’t have gotten tossed out. I wasn’t the easiest kid.”

  My heart goes out to him. Something tells me he got himself kicked out before they could kick him out. Maybe it was easier leaving first, and skipping all that rejection. My heart tumbles. I sort of did the same thing to him. I rejected him and dated a boy my father approved of. I can’t even imagine the scars imprinted on this man’s heart.

  “You were just protecting your sister,” I say. “You know I always loved that about you.” As soon as that L-word leaves my mouth, his head lifts. “I just mean, you’re protective of those you care about.” I toss a piece of bacon into my mouth and chew. “What were your favorite toys or games?” I ask, hating the sadness in his eyes.

  He gives a noncommittal shrug. “I never really had a favorite anything.”

  “Okay,” I say and let it go. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to open old wounds. I take a few more bites. “I’ll help you clean up and then get sewing,” I say, excited to have something productive to do.

  “I got this.” He stands, takes my plate from me and drops a tender kiss onto my head. Whoa, where the hell did that come from? “You go. Those kids are probably waiting on you.”

  I nod, and as he gathers my dishes I dart upstairs, my mind on the lost little boy with a good heart, who grew into a man with an even bigger one. I get to work and the next thing I know, I hear movement at the door. I turn to find Cason standing there. I shake my head.

  “Honest to God, I’m going to put a bell around your neck.”

  He laughs and perches himself on the corner of the desk. “How are you making out?”

  “Good, I’m just finishing up.”

  He checks his watch. “Perfect, we still have time to deliver these and get to the manufacturer before it closes.” He huffs, but there is a hint of teasing in his eyes when he adds, “I don’t mean to rush you but if you hadn’t wasted your morning sleeping—”

  “Hey,” I say and grab his shirt and pull him toward me. I press my lips to his and say, “You’re the one to blame. If you hadn’t carried me to your bed and put your cock in me again, I might have woken earlier.”

  His eyes turn a darker shade of brown, my dirty words obviously surprising and delighting him. His fast arousal curls through me, teases my nipples as well as the swelling cleft between my legs. “But we’ll discuss that later,” I say. “Right now we need to go.”

  He grips the back of my head, bringing my mouth back to his. “Now look who’s not playing fair.”

  “You don’t like when I play dirty?”

  “I like it.”

 
“But payback’s a bitch, right?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, acid eats at my stomach. We’d both wronged each other in the past which means we can never have a future, and that makes my heart ache.

  Thirty minutes later, I’m back in the small room at the back of the fruit-and-vegetable market. Marci is in a pink beret today, and she’s going over instructions with one of the crew. Cason is wandering around outside and talking to a few of the cast members.

  Marci finishes and turns to me as I pull the costumes from the bag. “All fixed,” I say. “If you have anything else I’d be happy to help you.”

  “I appreciate that,” she says, warming up to me.

  “I’m glad to help.”

  “Although now with the new budget, we’ll be able to buy better costumes and props, anyway.”

  “New budget?” I ask.

  “Yeah, some anonymous donor invested in my film last night. I got a call from the school. Crazy, right?”

  Warmth streaks through me. “I guess there really is a Santa Clause.”

  Cason steps into the room and I look at him. Goddammit, I’m so far down the rabbit hole, I’m not ever going to find my way out.

  “All set?” he asks.

  I look back at Marci, “I’m looking forward to seeing the end product.”

  “Come back for some of the filming. We’d love to have you as an extra. It will really put you in the holiday spirit.”

  “I’ll try,” I say and head outside with Cason. I slide my arm around his. “Did you hear?” I ask as we walk to his car.

  “Hear what?”

  “Some anonymous donor made a huge donation to their film.”

  “Nice,” he says with a slow nod of his head. “But you were enjoying the costumes. I hope you’re not too disappointed about that.”

  “I helped a bit, and I’m happy about that.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing we’re getting you fabric for your own designs today. Good timing.”

  “Yeah, it is, and I wonder who the donor was.”

  “If they wanted anyone to know, they wouldn’t have done it anonymously.”

  I hug him tighter as we walk. “I’m thinking it was Santa.”

  He laughs. “No such thing as Santa, Londyn.”

  “I beg to differ,” I tell him. “Santa brings joy and that’s what he did here.” I grin up at him. “Hey, maybe if I’m good, I’ll make the Nice List and Santa will bring me something, too.”

  He smirks at me. “I think after last night, you’re on the Naughty List. No worries though. I might not be Santa, but later tonight, I’m going to bring you all kinds of joy.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Cason

  I STAND OUTSIDE the door as Londyn works on her sketches, going back and forth from her drawing to her fabric. She studies the designs, examines the fabric and lays it out this way and that, as her brilliant mind races through ideas. Honestly the fashion industry needs her as much as she needs it.

  I love seeing her like this, lost in her work. For the last week, after our trip to the manufacturing store, she’s been sneaking in here every spare moment and working all hours. But I’m not complaining; after every piece she makes, she models it for me, and after I give my opinion, I then help her out of the outfit and straight into my bed. It’s been one hell of an amazing week, and I have to say I’m finding myself in a place I swore I wouldn’t go.

  A small grin curls up the corners of her mouth. “Can I help you?” she asks.

  “Yes, we’re going out to dinner.” I push off the door. “You’ve been cooped up in here too long.”

  She smiles up at me. “That actually sounds like a great idea.” She drops her pencil and I step farther into the room. I flip through her sketch pad.

  “These are fantastic.”

  She nibbles her bottom lip, her gaze darting between me and the sketches. “You don’t think they’re silly, or that I’m silly trying to pursue a career in fashion?”

  I frown, and pull her into my arms. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

  She rests her head on my chest. “You know why.” she says, her voice muffled in my shirt.

  “Actually, I don’t.” I’m about to press, when her cell phone rings. Her head lifts, and her eyes go wide. This isn’t the first time she’s ignored whoever is calling. “Come on, let’s get changed and out of here,” I say, desperate to protect her from whatever, or whoever, is filling her with anxiety.

  She nods in agreement, and follows me to the master suite. She moved her meager wardrobe in here a few days ago, and she’s yet to take me up on my offer to go shopping, buy whatever she wants. She slips into a sexy little black cocktail dress, followed by a pair of heels. I pull on a suit and tie, and we head to the front door where we put on our coats.

  “What are you in the mood for?” she asks.

  I laugh at that. “Do you really have to ask?” I say. This woman has turned me into a hormonal teen without even trying, so what I’m always in the mood for is sex. No matter how many times I’ve claimed her, I can’t seem to get enough.

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

  I tug her to me, and my lips graze over hers. “What, don’t you want that, too?”

  “Oh, I do. As a matter of fact, I have a new outfit to put on for you tonight.”

  “It’s nice how our interests work so well together.” She gives me a strange look. “You know, you like putting clothes on, and I like taking them off you.”

  She laughs at that and gives me a small shove. “Come on, let’s go or we’ll never get out of here.” I lock up and we head toward my car. “How about we walk?” she suggests.

  I look her over. “You’re in heels.”

  “I can’t get anything by you, can I?”

  “Smart-ass.” She chuckles as I scan her face. Her smile is genuinely happy, and she’s far more relaxed than she was when I first brought her here. “Will you be warm enough?”

  She gives me a grateful smile and my heart squeezes. She’s a strong, independent woman who likes it when I care for her. “I am,” she says and slides her arm around mine. We head toward the downtown core and she takes a big breath and exhales slowly.

  “I love it here, Cason.”

  “Me, too,” I say.

  “How long do you spend in Cannes each year?”

  “I’m usually here the winter months.”

  “I’d live here all year round if I could.”

  “You don’t think you’d miss your family?”

  Her chin drops, and her gaze goes to the ground. “It’s not like my father would miss me at work, and my mother is busy with other things. My closest friend is Jennie and she’s here a lot.” She laughs. “Jennie is from the auction.”

  “Yeah, I actually recognized her.”

  Since she brought it up, I decide to walk through that door. I tug her a little closer to offer my warmth and support. “What were you really doing on that stage, Londyn?”

  Her mouth opens, and it’s obvious she’s going to recite the same lies about it being a thrill. She stops when her eyes meet mine. Her breath comes out heavy. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

  As we approach town, I snort and glance around. “We’re in Cannes, with all the time in the world,” I tell her.

  “You’re right.” She bites her lip, the struggle in her eyes tugging at my heart. Whatever is going on with her is causing her a tremendous amount of stress. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

  “Londyn—”

  “What am I saying, you already hate me.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s what I know, but I don’t want to go back, Cason. I want to stay the rest of the week. Promise me I can?”

  “Yes,” I say quickly. Shit, I don’t want her to go back either. Although now
I’m not sure I do want to know the reason behind the auction. She opens her mouth but is suddenly cut off by Marci.

  “Londyn,” the student director belts out. “You’re back. Just in time for the filming of the final scene.”

  Londyn shakes her head. “Oh, I wasn’t...we weren’t.” She glances up at me, the emotions in her eyes a mixed bag of excitement and concern. It’s a Christmas film and she knows how I feel about the holiday, but right now, in this moment, it’s not about me. It’s about Londyn. She wants to watch and I want to do this for her.

  “I’m not starved to death,” I say. “We can stay and watch the final scene if you like.”

  The wide smile that splits her lips hugs my heart.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  She goes up on her toes and rewards me with a kiss. I hug her to me, and a second later her mouth is gone. She claps her hands as she turns to Marci.

  “Can we be extras?”

  “After a kiss like that, you two are perfect.” She waves her hand. “Come on. The hero and heroine’s Christmas wishes came true, and they’re about to share their first kiss. The extras hug and kiss, too, as they watch them accept love into their hearts.”

  “Sounds corny,” I say, and Londyn whacks me.

  “Do you not have any romance in you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well maybe the scene will melt some of that ice.”

  She takes my hand and tugs. We go silent as we stand around the gazebo, and the couple inside exchange loving words. Christmas music plays in the background, and Raphael, who I met last week, comes on to the scene dressed as Santa. He speaks to the couple, but we’re too far to hear. I caught Londyn skimming through the script over the last week, and her big smile is a clear indication she knows what’s being said.

  “He’s telling them wishes made at Christmas do come true.”

  I nod and avoid looking at her. I don’t believe in anything Christmas, but I’d be a real prick if I didn’t let her live in this fantasy world a little while longer. We continue standing, and when the couple kiss and the cameras span the crowd, everyone is hugging and kissing, and I pull her to me. Her face is awash in happiness as I kiss her. My God, she’s so into this, gobbling up the festive season like it’s a big turkey dinner and she hasn’t eaten in weeks. Am I a total prick for not putting up a tree, decorating it together? For not going back to spending the holidays with my sister when I caught the melancholy in her voice?