Crude Heir (Billionaire Heirs #3)

Chapter 20

Derrick

Her eyes open wide, the red rims glaring against a face that’s gone pale. She’s taken the time to shower and change. So she didn’t just run away from me; she erased everything about me. Somehow, that pisses me off even more.

“Explain yourself,” I growl, inches away from her face.

She jerks back, her head hitting the wall behind her. I haven’t put any pressure on her arm until now, but I’m holding her firmly to make sure she stays in place. A quick squeeze should remind her there’s nowhere to run this time.

“I…” Her gaze meets mine, turning apprehensive as her brows steeple.

I set my arm on the wall by her head, effectively caging her in. “I’m waiting.”

“I wasn’t born Nicole Fuentes.” The tip of her tongue comes out to wet her lips. “But it’s the only name I’ve ever known.”

There could be a dozen reasons that could be true, but it doesn’t make sense. I need details. I need to know how one thing links to another.

“How is that possible?” I study her face, checking to see if there’s anything in her eyes that might give her away.

“Three years ago, my family—the people I knew as my parents—were killed in a car accident. After the funeral services, my grandmother sat me down and told me I wasn’t their child.”

That’s a hell of a time to get the news. It’s one loss on top of another, right when she would have been the most vulnerable.

“They came across the border illegally. And somewhere along the way, they found me.”

My mind reaches for a possible explanation. Was she abandoned? How could a young child end up alone? “Found you?”

She blows out a breath. “From everything I’ve read since I found out, I assume that’s another way to say they kidnapped me.”

Kidnapped. Hell. Is it possible? My temples are throbbing. I lean away, only now realizing I’d leaned in to begin with.

“There’s nothing else I can tell you.” She shakes her head, her expression pleading. “Not who I am, not where I’m from, not how old I am. Everything I know…belongs to Nicole.”

I’m speechless. Out of all the things she could possibly say, I never expected this. “So, how did you become Nicole?” How does someone go about creating a persona? “Did she tell you that?”

She nods. “That was actually the easiest part.” She takes a deep breath. “They bought a package with a birth certificate and social security number. It helped create their background. It’s all they needed to establish residency in the United States. I just happened to be a kid who matched the documents they were offered.”

Who the hell thinks it’s better to drag a random kid along to make things easier for them? Out of anything I could have imagined, this would never have come up.

There’s one more thing I can’t go without knowing.

“And Keith Kelly? What’s your relationship with him?” There has to be a reason she’s digging through everything, even to the point of risking her job.

She shakes her head. “He’s a nice man. I was just trying to find out what’s happening with his company.”

Which doesn’t give me the answer I want. “ What is your relationship with him?” There are too many things about her that could draw a man’s attention. “He didn’t just pick you at random.”

Her cheeks turn red, making my stomach drop. Do I even want to know what happened between them? As much as I may not be ready to hear this, I have to know.

“I met him the day I went to an interview for a temp job. I got turned around and I asked him if I was at the right building.”

In the back of my mind, I have a memory of him smiling down at me when I was a kid. A kinder expression than what he shared with others. Not something I would have caught at the time, but now, with hindsight, I realize he—

“We ended up in the same elevator,” she says, snapping me out of the memory. “And he tried to set me at ease when he saw I was nervous.”

“So you’re telling me it was a chance meeting?”

She nods. “I didn’t know who he was until a couple of weeks later.” She exhales. “We kept bumping into each other, leaving late.”

Yes, whatever else can be said about the man, he’s a hard worker. First in, last out mentality.

“When my assignment was over, he had…your mother interview me.”

The churning in my stomach settles. It makes sense that she’d feel indebted to a man that helped her. So it makes sense that someone would go out of their way to return the favor. I still don’t like it, but it fits.

“I was offered a permanent position, but I turned it down…for obvious reasons.” She swallows uncomfortably. “I ended up assigned to the AP department and helping out as an admin.”

The only bad part about that is that she caught Simon’s attention. Thinking about him is enough to sour my mood even more.

Annoyed, I glance around, inspecting the small, tidy apartment. It has the right items, but nothing that speaks to the woman herself. The place has about as much personality as the corporate apartment where I’m staying.

Then I catch sight of a travel bag sitting on the small couch. She was on the brink of leaving. Feelings of loss and anger rumble inside me. Why? I know where she is. I could find her the same way I found her this time, as long as she has her phone and laptop.

“So why did you run?” I ask, needing more answers.

“I lied…to you, to everyone.” She lowers her gaze. “Even after everything we did,” she whispers.

Highlights from those moments flash through my mind. Her walking in on me. Her gasp of pleasure. The level of trust she showed this morning. And feeding her. All moments that are more intimate than anything I’ve ever shared with anyone.

Yet she was walking away.

“Where were you going?” I glare at her, waiting to see what she was planning.

She hesitates, blinking rapidly. “Anywhere,” she says, her voice hollow. “I don’t really know.” She lowers her gaze, her dark lashes fanned out over her cheeks. “Wherever the next bus could take me.”

I blow out a breath, shaking my head at the audacity of this woman. “So you thought you’d just walk away, disappear into the crowd?”

She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Anger wells inside me. Whatever else she could have done, running should not have been the answer.

Pulling her arm, I lead her away from the wall. “Show me your place.”

“There’s not a lot to see.” She moves forward. “The kitchen.”

I get a glimpse of a galley kitchen with clean counters and an empty dish rack before I realize she’s favoring her left ankle. “What happened to your foot?”

“I, um, I stepped wrong,” she says, keeping her gaze from mine. “When I was going down the stairs.”

This damn woman.

Without letting her go, I head across to the hallway leading to what has to be her bedroom, bringing her with me.

We pass the bathroom, where she’s clearly just showered. The unmistakable scent of her toiletries greets me as I go by.

Then we enter a familiar space, her bedroom. It’s exactly the same as when I saw it through her camera. The small dresser on one side, with nothing on top. A bookcase with what must be some of her favorite books, along with a few figurines. The makeshift desk where she was sitting. And the bed.

“Is that the closet?” I ask, releasing her.

“Yes,” she answers, bringing her hand up to rub the spot where I was holding her.

I stare at the foot of the bed, the exact place I saw her, and lift my chin, nodding in that direction. “Show me.”

Her brow furrows in confusion then she tentatively steps toward the closet. Opening the door, she reveals an orderly space with everything put in its place. Not a single item is on the floor that doesn’t belong there. There’s no stacks of rumpled clothes.

So no matter how early she leaves to go to work, she still takes the time to make the bed and clean up the kitchen before leaving home.

She has an innate understanding of rules. She incorporates them into her daily life, even if she doesn’t know it. Her routine dictates the things that should be done, and she takes care of them, regardless.

Yet she’s ready to take off to parts unknown without a solid plan. She’s putting herself in danger, which infuriates me.

I study her, as if it’s in a whole new light. Despite the jeans and loose blouse, a stark contrast to the business attire I’m used to seeing her in, I still think of her in only one way. Mine. And that means, she’s showing off assets to any man around.

“Take off your jeans,” I growl, my jaw clenched. For a moment, she hesitates, her chest rising and falling rapidly under my intense scrutiny.

She looks down at herself then back over at me. “But I—”

I set my jaw, my expression flashing with disapproval at her failure to follow instructions.

She stops mid-sentence, closing her mouth as she deals with some sort of internal struggle for one more second.

“What do you want me to wear?” she asks, her expression closed off.

“Anything other than jeans.” I tip my chin toward the closet.

Turning, she reaches into the closet and pulls out a peach skirt. Her eyes dart between mine as she complies with my order, but only after taking her sweet time to close the door.

She tosses the skirt over her shoulder then dips her chin against her chest, bringing her hands up to her waist.

I lower my gaze to where her fingers are fumbling over the button on her jeans. Now that she’s fallen in step, I’m fully focused on her, on her body and what she’s doing at her waist.

She slips the button out of the waistband and my cock goes incredibly harder. It’s pressing into my jeans as the rasp of the zipper fills the room. And when she pushes the jeans past her waist to show the turquoise underwear she’s wearing, my mouth starts to water.

I could pretend it’s the splash of color on those panties that’s caught my attention. That it keeps my gaze fixed on the juncture of her thighs while she lowers the jeans over the curve of her hips. But I’d be lying.

The scent of her arousal hits my senses when she steps out of the jeans. Anyone else would leave the discarded clothes on the floor. Not Nicole. Instead, my girl picks them up, folds them, then sets them on the seat of the office chair before yanking the skirt from her shoulder.

Hmm, Miss Fuentes is not happy. Lips pinched, she pulls up the skirt then throws me an annoyed glance.

I shrug out of my jacket and drape it over the nearby chair, giving her pause.

Determined to show her the consequences of being so reckless, I settle down at the foot of the bed. With my gaze boring into her, I wordlessly demand obedience. Her face drains of color as she bites her bottom lip nervously.

“Come here,” I command, my tone unyielding.

She swallows hard, hooking her thumbs together.

“I’m not going to say it again.”

I’ve committed those brown eyes to memory. I recognize the fear and uncertainty in an instant, but there’s something new that’s making my cock hard. Submission.

She takes a tentative step forward then her eyes drop to my lap. Clearly, she’s aware of the stirrings in my pants as she approaches.

As she reaches the spot in front of me, stopping just short of my touch. I maintain a steely glare, determined to keep her off-balance.

Now that her legs are bare and on full display, I have to force my gaze back up to her face. Despite the blouse being loose, I can make out the tip of a firm nipple. So I’m not the only one affected, though I admit, I didn’t expect my desire to come into play.

“You have to know there are consequences for every action.” I pat my thigh, indicating where I want her.

Her gaze darts away, so I let her have a few seconds to contemplate what she’s done. Meanwhile, she’s wringing her fingers, bending her knees slightly as she presses her legs together. “You want me to sit in your lap?” she asks with a note of uncertainty.

“No, I want you across my knee.”

Her eyes shoot open and her nostrils flare. She finally caught on to what I’m going to do.

“Now.”

Clutching at the material on the skirt, as if it will save her, she approaches me. Going down on one knee, she studies my legs, stretching out her arms tentatively, second-guessing herself, then finally settling across my lap.

The heat of her body tugs at my desire. Once again, I’m ready to kick myself for underestimating the power this woman has over me.

I pinch the bottom of the skirt, bringing it up past her waist. She gasps, tensing every muscle.

The panties barely cover the important parts, reminding me of how freely she was going to go out in public. I pull up my hand, letting my palm land on her plump butt cheek with a resounding slap.

A quick, high-pitched cry escapes her as her body jerks. She brings her hand up to her mouth, an accusatory expression on her face when she turns to look at me.

“That’s for running,” I say, my voice firm.

My hand lands a second time, eliciting something that sounds like eep .

“That’s for hurting yourself along the way.”

I lift my hand and she tenses. Bastard that I am, I wait for her to glance over at me again. Then I drop my palm.

“That’s for putting yourself in danger.”

She smothers what may be a moan. A shiver runs through her, leaving gooseflesh along her skin. The spot at the curve of her ass is turning red.

“You aren’t supposed to be enjoying this,” I say dryly. Though my own dick is throbbing.

“I’m not,” she replies.

Her words offer the perfect opportunity. I reach back to the waistband of her panties and pull down, baring her ass.

She turns, her eyes wide in concern. “Derrick,” she says in a loud whisper.

I pull the wet center along the inside of her thighs as far as the material can go. Then I come back, whacking her ass again. “This one is for lying.”

She shoots around. “I’m not lying.”

I burrow through the top of her blouse, to her hard nipple. “No?” Then I slide my hand to the inside of her thigh, following the soft skin until I find her pussy, as drenched as I expected. Her hips push back on my fingers, needing more.

“Tell me again how this isn’t making you wet.” My voice has a husky note that has no business being there. I wait for her reply as I move through her wetness, finding all the spots that held me fascinated not long ago.

Her chest rises and falls against my leg. “It’s not because of the spanking,” she says. “It happened when you came to the door.”

Fuck my life. My sweet little angel has been like this the entire time?