Chapter Twenty-One – Fade to Black

Dexter trooped after us as we emerged into a beautiful master suite. Vincent's sister had one hundred percent known what she was doing. The room was just as immaculate as the first floor, but the bedroom felt more like Vincent. It was done in deep shades of black and grey. The bed was a massive four poster style and took up residence on the left side of the room. Two doors were located to my right, leading to what I assumed were the bathroom and closet. Vincent vanished into the first of the two doors, and the warmth from the electric fireplace drew me closer to it. A large flatscreen TV hung above it, and I could see the beds reflection as I warmed my hands. That was where Vincent found me when he reemerged a few moments later with some clothes in hand.

"You can change in there," he told me as he pressed them into my grasp and gestured to the far door.

Nodding, I moved into the bathroom without so much as a word. I hadn't realized just how tired I really was until that moment. Too tired to even take in the beauty of the white marble that surrounded me on all sides, I barely even looked at the clothes he handed me before I shed my sweatshirt and leggings. It felt like peeling off a second skin as I shimmied the pants down my legs. Once I was standing in just my underwear, I finally took in what he had given me. It was just one of his shirts, though it was a favorite if the faded lettering meant anything. The words on the front were faded to the point I couldn't read them anymore, but I was guessing it had once been a band tee. When I slipped it over my head, I was reminded just how much larger Vincent was than me as it fell past midthigh. The shirt was soft, and it smelled like him. The dark scent wrapped around me, the after effect of whatever cologne or bodywash he used, but there was also something there that was distinctly him. Since he hadn't deigned to give me any pants, I was glad for the length of the shirt. I unclasped my bra, slipped my arms from the straps, and dropped it with the rest of my clothes before taking them with me. There was no way I was sleeping in that death contraption.

Vincent was sitting in a large chair by the window to my right when I emerged. The window wasn't floor to ceiling like the ones in the main area of the apartment, but it still gave the same breathtaking view. His fist was pressed against his mouth, but it fell to his side when he turned toward me. In the dark, his eyes looked black. Or maybe it was the way his pupil swallowed the green as his eyes raked over me.

A flush crept up my neck to settle in my cheeks at the look on his face. My weight shifted from foot to foot and I bit my lip. I held up my clothes. "Where would you like me to put these?" I asked, my voice coming out in a low rasp. I cleared my throat. No matter how close Vincent and I had gotten, I still wasn't thrilled about him knowing the effect he had on me. However, the smile toying with the edges of his lips said he knew exactly what he was doing.

Asshole.

His movements were languid as he rose from the chair. He all but stalked toward me, and I refused to budge. There was no way I was going to back down. Not when I had promised myself just hours earlier that I wasn't going to chicken out again. Heat pooled low in my belly when he came to a stop in front of me. His gaze bored into mine and my thighs clenched in response. Wordlessly, he took the clothes from my hands and tossed them into the chair he had just vacated. His hands met my hips, drawing me forward until his heat sank into my skin. My eyelids fluttered closed at the contact, and a content sigh fell from my lips. Suddenly, I was wide awake as my body hummed under his touch.

"Juliette," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that I felt in my chest. His hands moved to my hair, tangling in it as he angled my face up to his. "If you don't want this, tell me right now."

He was giving me an out. Big, bad Vincent Monroe. Who was known for being ruthless, who wanted me so badly he was straining against his jeans, was giving me plenty of time to make my decision.

Lucky for him, I had made it before we ever set foot inside of his apartment.

"I want this," I breathed. Raising up on my tiptoes, I closed the microscopic distance between us and pressed my lips to his. He groaned into my mouth, one of his arms constricting around my waist like a coiling snake. "I want you."

His lips didn't stay on mine for long. They migrated down my cheek, across my jaw, before trailing a burning line down the column of my throat. By the time he nipped the soft spot where my shoulder met my neck, my chest was already heaving. His hands found the back of my knees and he yanked me up into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. His mouth met mine again with bruising force as he walked us over to the bed. I barely had time to register how soft the mattress was before the hard planes of his chest were pressing against my own. The two feelings were drastically different, and I arched into him, craving the heat of his skin.

Something akin to a growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he all but ripped the shirt off me, discarding it into the chair with the rest of my clothes. I couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped me when his eyes met mine.

"Why did you even have me put it on?"

"I had planned to try and wait until morning to seduce you," he said, one arm snaking under the small of my back to press us as close together as possible.

"You failed."

"Princess, this is one loss I will gladly take." And then his lips were on mine again and no more words were needed.

There was nothing gentle about the rest of the night. Both of us had been denying ourselves, denying our attraction to each other, for far too long. Vincent showed me exactly how ruthless he could be, barely giving me time to breathe as he made my body shatter for him over and over again. On his tongue, his hands, his cock . . . it didn't matter. I lost count. By the time he threw the condom away and brought back a warm washcloth, I couldn't even move to help him. A soft laugh rolled through him as he wiped me down. He pitched the cloth into a hamper on the far side of the room, and then crawled into bed beside me and pulled my back flush against his chest.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of my head.

"Mhmm." His laughter vibrated against my back as he pulled me closer. Guess he thought it was funny that I couldn't even find the energy to speak.

"Get some sleep, princess."

* * * * *

As beautiful as the view from Vincent's room was, it was a pain in the ass once the sun came out to play.

I groaned and rolled into him, burying my face in the crook of his neck to try and block out the light. His arm was draped lazily over my hip, and he raised it to brush my hair away from my face. His laughter hummed through me, sending a surge of heat straight to my core. My toes curled, and I feared that if I pressed myself any tighter against him that my body would fuse with his. So, despite what I wanted, I blinked my eyes open. Vincent, on the other hand, was wide awake. His forest eyes were alight as they met mine, and one of those rare smiles broke across his face.

"Good morning, princess," he said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to my forehead. Despite the sweet gesture, my nose wrinkled.

"Can we not start with the princess crap quite so early, please?" I grumbled, raising my hand to rub the last remnants of sleep from my eyes.

"You're never going to hear the end of it. Deal with it."

I grumbled a litany of curses under my breath as I dragged myself away from him and to my feet. Rounding the bed, I picked up my underwear from where they had been discarded. A frown pulled at the corner of my mouth as I realized they were torn.

Shit.

"Did you really have to physically rip them off me?" I asked, meeting his eyes. Mischief was dancing in his forest gaze as it raked over me. I was suddenly quite aware of the fact that I was still naked. My nipples hardened as his eyes swept over me again, and I let out a few more choice words as I moved to grab the shirt he had given me the previous night. Before I could get it over my head, his warmth was behind me. Heat seared my cheeks as the bare skin of him met my back. I could feel how hard he was, and there was a pulsing between my thighs that I wanted to give into more than anything. His arms came around my waist and with the smallest tug, I was plastered against him once again.

However, I knew how late we had finally fallen asleep. Dawn had been cresting through the windows, so I knew it had to be almost noon – if not past it. I had to meet Jack, and soon.

It took every ounce of willpower I had to disentangle myself from Vincent's arms. After I had gotten the shirt on, I spun to face him. There was hunger in his eyes, but the rest of his expression was soft. I kept my eyes securely on his because I knew if I let it drift any lower, I was going to drag him straight back into that bed and not leave it for the rest of the day.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked, glancing around the room. There was no clock, and I had to have left my phone down in the living room the night before.

"In a hurry to leave?"

"Vincent."

He sighed but walked over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of sweats before tugging them on. I was convinced he was leaving his shirt off just to spite me, but I wasn't going to complain. I had full view of the tattoo that I had always noticed peaking out from the collar of his t-shirts. Even though the night before I felt like I had memorized every part of him, seeing the ink in the light of day – without the sex haze – was a new experience. Now I could see that what I was normally able to glimpse peeking out of the collars of his shirt was the edges of an intricate black and grey rose design that took up the expanse of his shoulder. The swirls of smoke around it trailed down his left arm, weaving in and out of two different animal skulls. The smoke swirled in dizzying detail all the way down to the cuff of his wrist, ending so that it wouldn't be visible underneath a long sleeve shirt.

"What?" he asked, following the path of my gaze. Picking up on what had my attention, he moved so he was right in front of me, allowing me to see it in closer detail.

"What are these?" My fingers trailed over the two skulls, one much larger than the other. They were similar, but the horns on the large one closest to his shoulder arched outward, while the horns on the smaller one, below the crease of his elbow, wound back in on themselves.

"A bull and a ram," he explained. "Taurus and Aries. Me and Alana."

My throat closed, and tears pricked my eyes. It was beautiful.

"Did she get to see it?" I asked. He nodded, taking my hand before pulling me back to the bed. He sat on the edge, settling me between his legs. He kept my hands in his and wrapped his arms around me. My back was flush with his chest as he propped his chin on my shoulder.

"We were always close growing up." His voice was soft, not a trace of the darkness coating it that I was used to. Somehow, that unnerved me more than when it was present. "We had been in foster care, but we were a part of the lucky few who were never separated. The minute I turned eighteen, we left and never looked back. It wasn't hard to get custody of Alana, she was only two years younger than me, and our foster family vouched for me. We actually had it pretty good. We only ever had that first family we were placed with. They were good people, but they had their own kids too. They did their best, but Alana and I were always just kind of on the fringe of things. Though, looking back, I think that was our fault more than theirs."

"I'm so sorry, Vincent."

He shrugged. "I got the tattoo after we left. Something to represent that we would always be together. No matter what life threw at us. The skulls were her idea. She was always into astrology."

"What happened to your parents?"

"They were killed. Caught in the middle of a gang war." My breath froze in my lungs. He must have felt the sudden rigidness in my spine because he swept the hair off my neck and placed a few kisses there before he continued. "So, I came back here a few years after Alana and I were set, and I killed the fucker who was the reason our parents were dead. Apparently, killing a gang leader makes you the next one. Whether that was your intention or not."

The air left me in a whoosh at the new information. "So, you were . . ."

"Twenty-one when I took over," he finished for me, his chin resting on my shoulder again. "It's been eight years, and I spent the first half of that wrestling everyone into shape. Anyone from those days either left or swore allegiance to me. We do things differently now. And it's worked out for us so far."

I knew he was being vague for my sake. But, in that moment it truly sank in who I had shared a bed with. Vincent had just admitted to murder. Granted, I always knew he was dangerous. I always knew he was someone I needed to stay away from. But knowing the rumors of his reputation and hearing the confession from his lips were two entirely different things. And I was sure that was not the only blood on his hands.

Hands that were currently wrapped tightly around mine, as if he was scared I was going to run.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, putting a voice to my thoughts. His tone was gentle, and I let myself relax. If there was one thing that I could appreciate about Vincent, it was that he had never hidden anything about himself from me. I had always known exactly what he was.

"A part of me has always been afraid of you," I admitted, letting the tension leave my shoulders as I pressed back into him. "Lucky for you, I'm not very good at listening to my baser instincts."

His laugh rumbled against my back. "I'm glad to hear it."

We stayed like that for quite some time. For the first time in what felt like years, I was completely at peace. But I knew it had to end. At least for the day. I had an appointment with Jack, and I had to get ready to go out with Devyn. A deep groan reverberated through my chest as I heaved myself from his arms. He didn't fight me a second time. While I dressed, he made his way back downstairs.

When I found him, he was busy in the kitchen. I could hear the grease popping as he cooked bacon, and the smell made my stomach rumble. Dexter was sitting just a few feet away from Vincent, eyes trained on the man's every move. Vincent took a piece of cooked bacon off the plate and tossed it to Dexter without moving his eyes from the pan in front of him. I rolled my eyes as Dexter all but dove for it, acting like I never fed him.

Ungrateful little shit.

"I try to limit his people food intake," I said as I eased into the kitchen, taking up a seat at the large island.

Vincent winced and had the good sense to look sheepish when he glanced at me over his shoulder. "I should've asked first."

"One piece of bacon won't kill him," I replied, grinning. "But unless you want to clean up a bunch of vomit off these pretty floors, I wouldn't suggest anymore."

"Noted."

We ate breakfast, and before I knew it, we were descending the steps into the warehouse. After the noise of the night before, the air was eerily quiet. There were still a few people mingling around, the guys apart of them, but everyone seemed subdued. Lucas's head popped up from where he and Brandon were slouched in front of the massive TV, and he waved to us. A smile touched my lips as I waved back, but it fell the minute I caught the devilish gleam in his eyes.

He hopped over the back of the couch and made his way over to us. Vincent eased us to a stop, and I heard a sigh fall from his mouth. The blonde's eyes raked over us, no doubt taking in the absolute rat's nest that was my hair. My spine straightened as he grinned, and I cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth.

"If you say one word, I'll come up with my twenty-fourth way to kill you."

To his credit, Lucas didn't even blink. "But if Vincent gets to tumble around in the sheets with you, I should at least –"

He grunted as my fist connected with his stomach. A deep groan slipped through his lips as I stepped back, shaking out my hand. I might as well have hit a brick wall with all the damage it did, but the disbelief in his eyes was worth it. My eyes cut to Vincent, but he was trying to smother a smile before it could upturn his lips.

Brandon had no such qualms about his laughter as he came up behind Lucas and clapped him on the shoulder.

"It's about time someone else was on the receiving end of her fist," he said, wild delight dancing in his eyes as he watched his cousin.

"Who the hell taught you to hit, sugar?" Lucas asked, trying not to make it obvious as he rubbed the spot my punch had landed.

"I've had a couple good trainers over the years," I said, breezing past him with Dexter in tow. "See ya later, boys."

A small chuckle fell from Vincent's lips as he caught up with me in time to hold the door open before we ventured out into the noonday sun. I shielded my eyes against the glare as I made my way towards the SUV. As usual, Vincent helped boost me into the seat before rounding the vehicle himself. His ghost of a smile was playing around the edges of his lips, making an answering one break out across my own face.

We were on the road before he broke the silence.

"Didn't I warn you to keep your hands off my men?"

"If I remember correctly, you just told me hitting them didn't score me any brownie points. You never said I couldn't do it."

"You're impossible."

My lips twitched. "You thought it was funny and he had it coming. No one would argue that."

"Touche."

I had to restrain my laughter as we pulled into the parking lot of my building. Vincent helped me get Dexter out of the car and walked me to my door. As I opened it and disengaged the security system, he leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. After two tries, I finally entered everything correctly. When I met his eyes, they were gilded like sunshine filtering through a forest canopy.

"What?" I asked, arching my brows.

"You're beautiful."

"Oh." My entire face went scarlet in an instant. "Thank you."

"What're your plans for the rest of the day?"

"Just a few errands, and then Devyn and I are going out tonight," I told him with a shrug. I wasn't sure why I didn't tell him about my self-defense classes. But if I examined it further, part of me knew I didn't want to admit that I had felt so weak the night the guys had taken me to him. I hadn't been able to fight back. Between the fear and knowing that I could never outmaneuver even one of the men, I had been useless. I never wanted to feel like that again.

If anyone would understand that, it was Vincent. But I wasn't ready to give up that piece of myself. Not yet at least.

"Juliette?" My name snapped me back to reality. I blinked at him a few times, and his lips twitched at the corners. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

"No," I admitted.

"I was asking if you all knew where you were going?"

"We haven't talked about it yet," I said, blowing out a breath and crossing my arms. "Though I'm sure we'll at least stop by Tuxedo. Anthony and Dante always let us have a couple free shots."

"Is this strictly a girl's night?"