Prevail (Triumph Book 3) Read online

  She didn’t come home last night, so I can only assume she stayed with him. Worked it out with him. But, where does that leave me?

  Used again. Alone again.

  Walking into a therapist’s office expected to tell her my deepest, darkest secrets.

  Well, sorry doc that’s not happening today.

  I breeze through Dr. Riley Andrews’ door with my face set in stone, my eyes hard and cold. My decision made—I’ll be spending the next hour on her comfortable leather couch, sulking, and possibly thinking. But, definitely not talking.

  Plopping down on the couch I cross one leg, my ankle resting over my knee and fold my arms across my chest. I set my glare on the good doctor, determined to take all of my frustration out on the innocent girl perched behind her desk.

  “Rico.” She looks up at me from the file on her lap, her sweet smile hitting me hard in my chest. I don’t even want to examine that particular reaction. “How was your Halloween?” Her eyes that are the most unique combination of brown and green, track my face, her happy demeanor faltering just slightly at the set of my jaw. I don’t answer her stupid question. I don’t let the worried pucker between her eyes lessen my glare.

  I watch as she stands slowly from her chair, moving carefully around the large wooden desk making sure her eyes never leave mine. She doesn’t stop her approach until she’s sitting in the small armchair directly to my left. Her hands twitch in her lap, one raises in my direction very nearly touching my arm before dropping back to her leg.

  “What is it? What happened?” Her voice is nearly a whisper, her worry evident in every syllable.

  Turning my head, I take the time to look at her, really look at her. She caught my attention last week, but I couldn’t quite figure out why. She’s nothing special, nothing I haven’t seen before—shit, I’ve used girls just like her time and time again.

  She’s petite in stature, but with luscious hips that are perfect for grabbing onto. Her long brown hair is plain and dull. Her facial features match her frame—small nose that turns up just slightly at the end, and her pink lips are just slightly thinner than the full pout I usually gravitate toward.

  But, those damn eyes—those unique eyes that seem to see everything I’ve ever hidden from the world—are what I couldn’t get out of my head all week. Her eyes reveal every single thought she’s feeling.

  Last week it was desire, embarrassment, annoyance, and then they turned kind. Today worry is pouring from those irises.

  The amount of worry is enough to soften my glare, to turn my body in her direction. She may be getting paid to worry about me, but for once someone is looking at me like I matter. Like they give two shits about what happens to me, what I feel. And, for this little slice of time—for one hour every week—I’m going to take advantage of that.

  “Sorry.” My eyes close, as I bring my fingers up to rub against my temples trying to fight off an impending headache. “I had a shitty night.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  I don’t, no. Not really anyway. But, there’s something about this girl I’m finding hard to resist. The words fumble from my mouth before I’ve given them any conscious thought, “You ever been used, Riley?”

  Her eyebrows crease even further that pucker line growing as worry turns to confusion. “What do you mean?”

  Unable to help myself I lean in a little closer to her, dropping my voice slightly. “I mean has anyone ever used you? For money, for sex? For anything really.”

  Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she contemplates the answer she wants to give me. I can almost see it when she decides to go with the truth, instead of the answer she’s probably been trained to give me. “Yeah, Rico. I’ve been used.” Sadness clouds her eyes, and I watch as her hands twist in her lap. I feel bad momentarily that I made her recall a memory she’s obviously tried to forget, but then I remember that’s what she’s going to do to me. She’s going to make me dig up my deepest, darkest regrets and secrets, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make her do the same. If for no other reason than to see just how shitty it feels.

  What’s fair is fair.

  “Who’s using you?” She asks in a clinical voice. I’m almost amazed at how quickly she was able to turn it off. In an instant, she went from a sad, timid girl to a cool, professional doctor.

  “How do you know I’m not the user? What makes you think I’m the used?”

  She flashes a quick smile at me before leaning back in her chair. “Oh, I have no doubt that you’re both, Rico but for today let’s talk about who’s using you.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” Deflection. I’m the fucking king at it.

  Riley quirks one eyebrow up at me, her hazel eyes seeing right through me. She stares at me for long seconds and I start to wonder if she’s going to press me, make me answer her question, without ever answering mine. “I’ve been in love once, yes. Is that who’s using you, someone you love?”

  One quick jerk of my head.

  “A girlfriend?”

  Another nod.

  I watch those eyes again as emotion after emotion flicks through them. Understanding. More sadness. Jealousy.

  Jealousy, really? Perfect. Another means of distraction, another opportunity to put off talking about my problems. Resting my forearms on my thighs, I lean forward until her lavender scent assaults my senses. Makes sense a sweet girl would smell so damn good, so damn forbidden. Stretching just the tips of my fingers out I brush her knee with my digits, taking joy in the way her muscles twitch under the touch and absolutely loving the soft whimper she lets out. “You wouldn’t use the person you loved would you, sweet girl?”

  “R-Rico,” my name an innocent stutter. The sound of her nervous voice eggs me on, encourages me in a sick, twisted way. I slide my fingers higher, pressing my palm harder on her thigh until the strong muscle is gripped in my hand. The cute sound she made earlier has nothing on the kitten-like purr vibrating her lips.

  The differences between the sweet girl in front of me hardening my dick to a goddamn rock and the girl that’s got me twisted in knots—the girl I’m avoiding discussing—is humorous.

  Angelica is walking, talking sex, with her long legs, long blonde hair, full rack, and the confidence to flaunt it all. Riley is quiet and timid, her looks are pretty but nothing about her screams sex. Except that damn noise.

  Riley’s expressive eyes clear, the desire and want washed away with a blink. In its place is fire—hot and angry. Her small palm covers mine where it rests on her thigh; her grip is strong and sure. “Touch me again,” she flings my hand off of her, “And we’re done here. Am I clear?”

  Holy shit. The sweetness was working for me, but this attitude? This fire? It’s really working for me. I can tell she’s serious, and as eager as I am to push more of her buttons, to bring this side out of her more I’m going to back off. For now.

  “Got it, Kit.” Unable to resist I flash her a wink before getting out of her space, and lean back against the soft cushions behind me. “Ask away.”

  She takes a minute to gather her composure. She flicks through the notes sitting on her lap, her breathing becoming more and more controlled with each passing second.

  I take advantage of her distraction to adjust myself in my pants. I have no idea how just barely skimming her thigh was enough to get me hard, but I’m painfully fucking hard. There is something about this girl, something that turns me on and makes me curious. I hated the thought of therapy, I still hate the thought of someone else knowing the regrets and secrets locked in the deepest parts of my brain, but I’m too invested in this sweet, feisty girl to quit now. I’m determined to find out where this goes, how far I can push her.

  What it will feel like when I push myself into all that small, curvy deliciousness?

  “Rico?” That pucker between her eyes is back as she repeats my name. Shit. I was so lost in fantasyland I completely checked out and missed her question. Quirking an eyebrow at her I silently beg her to repeat herself.
“Tell me about this girl you love.”

  My heart clenches, my throat swelling with the emotion of the situation. I knew Angelica and I were only fuck buddies, she’s made that plenty clear but over the past few months I realized how much I need her, want her. Possibly love her. I’ve also realized just how little I mean to her.

  “Her name is Angelica, she is best friends with my best friend’s fiancé. I met her last year and we started hooking up.” I look up from my lap catching a hint of heat in her eyes again. My lips quirk at the thought of her being jealous, at the thought of her picturing the same images I was just a few moments ago—only it wasn’t Angelica I was envisioning. Clearing my throat, I continue telling her about Ang, “When I overdosed last year, she’s the one that found me. She stuck by my side the whole time I was in the hospital and through rehab. She even gave me a place to live when I got out.”

  “So you and she still live together?”

  Anger and frustration, and if I’m being honest remnants of hurt run through me. “Technically,” I bite out. “But, she’s been staying with her boyfriend most nights for the past few months.”

  She sets her pen down, her small, dainty hands coming to rest on top of her notepad. Her knowing eyes bore into me for long minutes making me feel like a damn science experiment. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t move. She just watches me. I can almost see the thoughts working in her head as she stares me down. And I’m not sure I’m happy with the direction they’re headed.

  She leans forward just slightly and her lavender scent hits me, momentarily distracting me from her question. “When do you think you started loving her, Rico?”

  Snapping my gaze from her lips to her eyes I take a moment to really think about my answer. I think on some level I’ve always loved Angelica, but in a totally different way than I feel now. These feelings started when she started to pull away. When she stopped coming home to me at night. When she started dating Ryan. “I guess a few months ago. Why?”

  Understanding flashes in her eyes. “Here’s what I want you to do tonight. Go home, think of all the reasons you think you love her. Focus on when she stopped being a friend you care about and started being someone you wanted a relationship with. Focus on when things started changing. Really think about the timeline.”

  She’s serious. She’s giving me homework. What the hell? I give her an incredulous look, my lips tilting in a crooked grin. “You’re giving me homework?”

  Her own lips twitch and I wait, my breath caught in my chest for that smile she’s only let me see once. She’s pretty all the time, but when she smiles she’s gorgeous.

  She doesn’t disappoint. Her face breaks out in a stunning smile—the grin taking up most of the space on her small face and my heart beat picks up a little.

  Then she giggles and that sweet, sweet girly sound hits me square in the chest and I can’t think through it. Shit, I can hardly breathe through it. “Yes, Rico. I’m giving you homework. Think you’ll survive?”

  No. No, I don’t. I think this girl is going to kill me. Slowly. Torturously. Deliciously.

  Snapping out of the haze she put me in, I hone in on my cocky, playboy ways… by using the same grin and dark eyes that have gotten me into every single pair of panties I’ve ever wanted inside. “Oh, Kit,” I taunt, loving the way her brow crinkles at the nickname. “You should know something about me,” I pause letting my voice drop even lower, so low she has to lean forward in her chair to hear me. “I never back down from a challenge.”

  My eyelids flutter at the sweet little gasp she lets out. I sit there for a moment savoring the sound. Oh, yeah this is going to be fun. I never realized I had a type of girl before—I’ve always believed in equality, having been with girls of all sizes and colors—but the one denominator is their personality. I’ve always been with girls that are confident, sexy... some might even say easy.

  But, Riley is different; she’s soft, sweet, and so damn innocent. Everything I’ve never had. Everything I’m determined now to take. To taste.

  Pushing out of my seat on the couch I walk past her toward the door. “See you in a few days, doc,” I call over my shoulder without a backward glance.

  Chapter Three

  Riley

  “Oh, shit,” I blow out a thick gust of air as I slink back in my chair. I’m in so much trouble. His words bounce around in my head. I never back down from a challenge. Does that mean he sees me as a challenge? Does that mean he’s going to make a move? Does he actually see something interesting, worthwhile in me?

  The way he looks at me makes me wonder if maybe he does see something in me. Then, I wonder if I’m losing my damn mind, because the odds of someone that delicious wanting someone so dull is laughable.

  Seriously, he probably meant the words at face value. He doesn’t back down. He takes everything that’s thrown at him. I mean, isn’t that fact obvious? He’s fought through more than most people should ever have to face.

  Shaking my head at my ridiculous thoughts I force my brain to start working again, and head to my desk to input the session notes into my computer.

  I may not know exactly what his parting words meant but what I do know is that boy is going to kill me. He’s going to make me question every promise I’ve ever made to myself and I’d be shocked as hell if he didn’t cause me to throw everything I’ve ever worked for, wanted, out the damn window.

  The sad part? All he has to do is smile at me, and look at me with those deep, dark brown eyes and I’m totally done. I’d give him whatever he wanted.

  I’ve always thought myself plain, uninteresting, but I’ve never had a problem garnishing attention from the opposite sex. I’ve never hated who I was. I’m comfortable in my own skin–curvy as it may be. I’m comfortable with my boring, home-bodied personality.

  At least I was until William. He fucking ruined me. He made me question everything. I started wondering what guys see in me. Started questioning if they just wanted to bed an innocent and that’s all they wanted in me. I started questioning my ability to make decisions, to help my clients make decisions. I started questioning the people in my life and if I could really trust them.

  But, more than that I started questioning who I really am. What I stand for. What I want out of life.

  William always seemed so safe. In the beginning, he was stable, loving, and attentive. He came from a good family and had dreams and ambitions that far exceeded my own. After William destroyed me, I started wondering if safe and stable is really what I wanted, if that was who I even was anymore. If that’s who, I even wanted to be anymore. If ever.

  I’ve never been reckless, stupid, carefree. I’ve always surrounded myself around those types of people—people like Roxy—because I envied them. I’ve always wished I could just let go, even for a little while, and just be. Just enjoy life.

  I try telling myself that’s the reason Rico appeals to me. He’s something I’ve never had. Something I’m finding I want more and more. He’ll satiate that hunger; take away that craving for recklessness.

  He’s everything William never was. Sexy, hard, damaged. He’s the quintessential bad boy. He looks at me like he’ll eat me alive, leave me dazed and sated, and then walk away. After six months of celibacy that’s exactly what I need—a quick, easy, delicious fuck. I don’t need someone else to make love to me. I want to be ravished, fucked hard and long. Then I want to walk away and not look back.

  I want the option of going back to my simple, clean, organized life when the fling is over.

  The truth of the matter is that I don’t know that I actually have it in me to just drop my guard, to let loose like that. And, regardless of the boundaries, the rules you’re still letting someone in and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Especially to let someone like Rico in? I just don’t know if I have it in me.

  The longer I sit here visualizing his eyes and the way they were constantly taking in my face and my body, darkening with each pass, the way his voice dropped to this unfairly sexy rasp
when he tried to goad me and the way his strong hands felt on my thigh, the more I want to be that girl.

  I might not be sure if I can let Rico in like that but, I’m going to let him in like that. I have to. I need this.

  ***

  Two days later I’m ready. I’ve slept on it. I’ve fantasized about it. Shit, I’ve shamefully—no, the new version of me would not be ashamed—masturbated to the thought of being with Rico. I’m ready for him. My defenses are down. My inner vixen—as small as she may be at the moment—is ready to come out and play.

  I need this. I need that man to satiate this hunger in me, to feed the need to do something dirty and unexpected.

  I’m totally ready. Except that I have no idea how to do this. I’m not a flirt, and I certainly don’t throw myself at men. I could have asked Roxy for help, but I didn’t want her to know what was going on. So, I spent a little extra time on my hair and makeup, and I carefully picked out my outfit, hoping those small changes were enough to grab his attention.

  I was hopeful up until two seconds ago when my carefully crafted plans fell to pieces. I nearly burst into tears just now, as he waltzed into my office—late.

  His eyes are dead, his normal smirk missing. He looks depressed, alone, scared.

  “Rico?” My voice wavers with disappointment as I have an internal struggle. I work to put away the wanton hussy I’d been prepared to be, and find the professional therapist I was born to be. Something is wrong. He needs me and in a much different way than I need him.

  Slumping in a chair across from me he gives me a chin lift. He remains silent, the hurt rolling off him in waves. Unable to stay away I make my way around my desk, for the first time in a long time unsure of what my next move is.

  Perching on the edge of my desk I place myself directly in front of him, forcing him to look at me, acknowledge me. “What happened?”