Feeling White Read online

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  FEELING WHITE

  An erotic novel

  The second part of The White Trilogy

  Copyright ©2015 by Charlotte E Hart

  Cover Design by MAD

  Formatting by MAD

  All rights reserved

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved alone, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of those trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal use and enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people, or used for any other reason than originally intended. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Join me at www.facebook.com/CharlotteEHart.author

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Acknowledgements

  To Feel

  English definition of “Feel”.

  -To be aware of (a person or object) through touching or being touched.

  (No object) Be capable of sensation.

  (No object with complement) Give a sensation of a particular quality when touched.

  Experience (an emotion or sensation).

  To Experience

  English definition of “Experience”.

  -practical contact with and observation of facts or events.

  -an event or occurrence which leaves an impression on someone.

  Sensation

  English definition of “Sensation”.

  - A physical feeling or perception resulting from something that happens or comes into contact with the body.

  Belligerent

  English definition of Belligerent

  Line breaks: bel/li/ger/ent

  Adjective:

  1, Hostile and aggressive

  2, Engaged in War or Conflict

  Origin

  Late 16th century: from Latin belligerent-“waging war”, from the verb belligerare, from bellum “war”.

  FEELING WHITE

  By

  Charlotte E Hart

  2015

  “A belligerent state permits itself every such misdeed, every such act of violence, as would disgrace the individual.”

  Sigmund Freud

  Chapter 1

  Conner

  “D ick.”

  Looking down the steps towards the tarmac beneath him, he shuddered at the ominous wave sweeping through his skin. The electric river of foreboding would have been exciting for him a while ago, but not now and certainly not this time. Thankfully it had been a few years since he’d needed to be concerned about his friends’ dubious behaviour, or had needed to consider carefully how to turn him back in the right direction again. The last time anything close to this magnitude had happened, it had been that irritating green-eyed goblin that pulled him back from the edge. He’d never forgiven himself for not being enough that time round but the guy had thoroughly fucking lost it and his own arsenal simply hadn’t been enough. Pascal Van Der wanker Braack had apparently got something up his sleeve that he simply couldn’t give, and while that sucked big time, it had at least worked. More than likely this was going to be another fucking nightmare, possibly worse. And at the moment, even after the entire flight to mull it over, he couldn’t begin to imagine how he was going to drag back the rage still coursing through his own veins, let alone deal with the lunatic in full-on arsehole mode.

  The immediate two phone calls to the prick had gone straight through to voicemail as the car stormed towards the private airport. He’d probably been off his face already; his normal damned reset switch usually contained alcohol of some sort so he’d eventually called Angie at the central hub to confirm that the flight to New York had actually taken place. Thank God she was a decent sort because she really didn’t have to tell him anything. In fact, she was risking her job by doing anything to help him at all, and after the way he treated her last year, he was surprised by her pleasantness to say the least. Of course she did get the words ‘dickhead’ and ‘arrogant twat’ into their brief conversation. She was right and he deserved every word of it, not that he gave a shit about her reaction to him but he at least acknowledged it.

  The Limo now waiting at the bottom of the steps seemed fucking hilarious for the type of activity he was likely going to be a part of for the next few days or maybe it would be weeks. Who in the hell knew what he would need this time to bring him back to reality? The one thing he did know was that the idiot would need someone beside him to rein him in. He was bound to get himself in all sorts of trouble. The bastard thrived on it, breathed it in and swallowed it whole while smiling through the pain, and nine times out of ten, the guy just found it to hurt people anyway. It’s just what he was by nature - violent. Whether the fucking goblin and his tricks had managed to tame it or not was really irrelevant because it was always there, hiding and waiting for the next opportunity.

  The world saw a man in control, a man who moulded himself into whatever he needed to be to gain money and status, but that’s not what he was in reality, not underneath. He was a sadistic bastard with plenty of blood on his hands and a fucked up head to boot. And this new torment was going to be just enough to reverse the sanity, enough to start the shit all over again, because the loss of Elizabeth Scott would mean the loss of balance, of moral input, and that meant undiluted fury would reign again. Clearly the idiot was more than capable of looking after himself but it was the others that became involved that Conner worried about. The man’s ‘calm down’ switch sometimes needed one insane amount of adjustment and more often than not, that was his job. To pull him back from the brink and find his friend again, his brother of sorts, the only family he damn well had left.

  He walked heavily down the steps and pulled his coat around his chin. November in New York was sodding cold and as the wind whipped past his face, he thought of Belle - damned frosty. Would she ever be less so? God he hoped so. If he didn’t make this right, he had a feeling the love of his life would be gone because there was no way she’d put her sister through the anguish of ever having to see either of them again, and unfortunately for him, she’
d be right to do just that. Her sense of unwavering loyalty for Beth would rapidly diminish any feelings she had for him, if she had any at all that was. He still wasn’t sure about that.

  He’d warned the arsehole, told him how important this was, not to piss around with Beth and not to screw her over, but the bastard hadn’t listened for whatever fucking reason. So now he was standing in New York in an attempt to not only save his friend’s existence but also his own future, because without Belle, he would disintegrate. His own carefully constructed barriers had disappeared long ago where she was concerned and she was very much a part of him now, deep inside of him. He wouldn’t make it through losing another chance of happiness because she was it for him - the first one since Katie and Jonah - his only chance of a family again, of a new future. If she left him now, he knew he would blame the prick forever and that just wasn’t fucking acceptable, not at all.

  Sliding into the back seat, the random driver closed the door on him and wandered off so he pulled out his phone and reached for the bar. Whiskey, nice fucking choice. Tipping back a large one, he refilled it and thumbed through the numbers till he found the right number. His finger hesitated for a second as he gazed out the window, following a helicopter chopping around the night air, and smiled to himself at the thought of happier times with his friend. It wasn’t that long ago really that they were partying their lives away, but that was before the Scott women fell upon them and gave them a reason for living, really living. God, the man pissed him off.

  How many times was he going to do this? Would it always be the same with him? He knew the guy’s childhood had been pretty bad and that some serious shit had gone down at some point in his past, but what the hell sent him into uncontrollable rages was still completely unknown. He didn’t even seem to care about what he did to people, violently or otherwise. Maybe it was that dick, Aiden Phillips, and his dealings that had done this to him. Or maybe not. Who the fuck knew? But why couldn’t the man just level himself out and be something close to normal?

  The thought made him chuckle. He couldn’t even face the thought of the word normal being in the same sentence as the rather legendary Alexander White. It was just bloody ridiculous; the two just didn’t fit together at all, and it was a damned good job he considered him his only family because it was the only reason he currently had for not killing the bastard. How the guy pulled off being a respectable businessman when his inner core was clearly filled with something other than sense was unfathomable, but he just did somehow. The fact that he was possibly the finest looking male specimen on the damn planet helped but that wasn’t why people admired him. They admired the philanthropist, the money-maker and the shark, all traits Conner admired, too, but underlying that was loyalty. He’d never had a friend he could call on regardless of anything and Alex White was just that, loyal.

  The cityscape loomed up at him as he crossed the bridge into Manhattan and again he felt the aggravating prickling sensation reach his neck. He looked down at his phone with a sigh and pressed call.

  “Conner,” Andrews said sharply.

  “Where is he?” he asked quietly.

  “The Parlour,” Andrews replied with his usual bored tone. He tapped on the privacy glass and told the driver where to head. The dull nod indicated that he’d heard him so he closed the screen and returned his attention to the call.

  “How is he?” Another stupid question but there might be some hope that he wasn’t currently killing something, or at the very least trying to destroy it.

  “I think you know how he is,” Andrews replied with a small chuckle. He rubbed his forehead then pinched the bridge of his nose to try and dull the constant throb as he imagined the image of the dick in full-on mode. It was nothing to fucking laugh about.

  “Well, can you keep him there until I get there? I’m just coming over the bridge. I should be with you in about twenty minutes,” he said as he poured another drink and knocked it back, hoping to clear his head somehow for the oncoming battle.

  “He currently has four women in the room with him. I doubt even Alexander White can manage that in less than twenty minutes.” Conner’s eyebrows shot up at Andrews’ witty retort. He couldn’t ever remember humour being a part of the driver’s repertoire. And the fact that the dick was with women at least meant he wasn’t hurting anything… Well, to some degree anyway.

  “I’m pretty sure he’ll have a damned good try, and frankly I wouldn’t be surprised if he managed it. We both know what a fucking maniac he is when the right mood sets in.” He chuckled at the thought. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d come here to make the idiot see sense or kill him he’d be pretty impressed with the guy.

  “To be honest, I doubt he’ll be going anywhere for a while. He can barely walk, let alone fuck anymore. The likelihood is he’ll pass out within the hour. He’s already been at it for most of the day. This is the second group.”

  Conner sighed with something close to relief. At least he’d found him and that meant he could get him back to the apartment and lock him in until he sobered up.

  “Is it just booze?” he asked, hoping to Christ that coke hadn’t been introduced to the mix yet.

  “So far, yes.”

  “Are the girls okay?” he questioned as he cringed at the possibility of a really pissed off Alex.

  “Yes, they seem to be quite enjoying their sessions. There was one in the first group who looked a little ruffled, but Roxanne said she would be okay once she’d been paid off.”

  “Good, okay, that’s good.” He blew out a long breath and refilled his drink.

  “Do you know what happened?” Andrews asked.

  “As far as I know he left a note for Beth telling her it was over. Other than that, I have no idea. Everything seemed to be going so well. I don’t understand any of it,” he replied, still trying to wrack his mind for some other miraculous piece of information.

  “He saw her with Henry DeVille. They were apparently too close for his liking. He thinks he saw something happening between them.”

  Conner’s head instantly cleared of confusion. He saw everything in seconds and completely understood Alex’s reaction to what he thought he’d seen or actually had seen. His ability to read his friend’s mind had become almost second nature over the years so it was plainly obvious how this was going to pan out, and given that he was probably in love with Beth, the result would more than likely be ten times worse.

  “Oh fuck, that’s not good at all,” he replied.

  “Quite. He thinks she’s been working with Henry behind his back. He believes everything has been a lie up until now. What do you think?”

  “I don’t believe it for a minute. There’s not a bad bone in her body. Besides, you know how suspicious and paranoid he is. He’s probably conjured up all sorts of images in his fucking head. What a prick. Why didn’t he just talk to her?” The moment the question had left his mouth he shook his head in irritation. Alex was completely unable to show any form of vulnerability or emotion up until lately. He had hoped the prat had gotten past that but obviously not. “I’m getting too old for this shit, Michael,” he said with a huff.

  “Can you ask Belle to clarify anything? Maybe if we get this sorted quickly enough, he won’t go off the rails completely this time. And stop fucking whining. I’ve got ten years on you and two wars. I don’t need your moaning,” Andrews replied with a touch of anger threatening. Conner tensed a little but reined it straight back in. Michael Andrews was not someone to mess with and he’d been there with Conner every time Alex had gone ballistic. For years he’d been the only one Conner could rely on to help with the idiot in twat mode. Until the green-eyed thing turned up anyway.

  “Yes, but you get paid for it, and stop pretending you don’t enjoy it. I can already see you going all covert, you arsehole. Have you got your earpiece in yet?” he replied, laughing at his own sarcasm.

  “Grow up. Where are you now?” Conner looked out the window and saw the Chrysler building.

  �
�Not far, just coming up Lexington. Should be ten minutes.”

  “I’m in the upper bar,” Andrews replied as the phone went dead.

  He frowned at the phone for a few moments, not quite sure what to do next. He needed to call Belle and find out what the hell Beth was doing with Henry. How did she even know him? Surely it wasn’t possible that Alex was right. He tapped his fingers on his knee, trying to engage his Alex brain for a few minutes. He’d learnt this trick a long time ago. The only way to try and understand Alex White was to become him for a while, to try and feel whatever he was feeling. He’d become so good at thinking the way that Alex did that he could almost envisage everything through his eyes. His paranoia was beyond abnormal and his destructive tendencies were quite immeasurable, but Conner’s grasp of his emotions had solidified into something he could hold on to - something to help him guide the man back towards everyday life, or at least his version of everyday life, which was pretty strange to say the least.

  Finding Belle’s number, he hit call and hoped she’d have the right answer and not something that would make his ‘Alex brain’ suspicious.

  “Have you located the bastard yet?” she asked angrily. No ‘hi babe,’ she didn’t even say his name. He bit back a smile; he loved her smart mouth, what she did with it and what came out of it.

  “Fuck, I love you,” he replied as that smile emerged. He couldn’t stop it. The woman was everything he’d ever wanted.

  “Yep, I know. Has he got some sort of excuse for his wankerish behaviour? Actually, have you killed him? That’s probably more acceptable to be honest.” She was clearly still very pissed off. He sighed again at the thought.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten to him yet, but I need to ask you a question and I need you to be really honest with me. I have to know the truth before I get there,” he said, trying to let her know how serious he was for once.