The sour look on his face deepened. “Don't Hey, Elroy me, you little bitch. You fucking whore.”
I paused halfway to the door, startled. He hadn't spoken to me that way in a long time. “What?”
He stalked up to me, towering over me like Dorian did, except Dorian made me feel safe, and Elroy just made me feel small. Too small to fight him. Too small to defend myself.
But one night I had finally stood up for myself, and I hadn't let him beat me down since. I set my jaw and glowered up at him. All pretense of not being totally pissed to see him fell by the wayside.
“Don't talk to me like that,” I said, scowling. “I'm the mother of your child, and I deserve some respect.”
“Respect? Does Sinclair respect you?” At the horrified expression that crossed my face before I suppressed it, Elroy continued, “Oh yeah, I know all about your 'arrangement' with that greasy old man.”
“He's not a greasy old man!” I snapped. “He treats me better than you ever did, and I was your wife.”
Elroy let out a bitter snort. “Oh yeah? How good is he going to treat you when I tell him about Dorian? Do you think Sinclair will be so nice when he finds out the pussy he's paid for is being handed around like party favors?”
An icy hand clutched my heart, but I fought to keep him from seeing how much his words hit me. How did he know about either of them?
“Neither man has any claim on me,” I told him, forcing my voice to be steady. “And it's none of your fucking business, anyway.”
“Actually, it is my business.” He grinned, but there was nothing happy about that look. “Your pussy has been my business a lot longer than it's been either of theirs. And you know what, I think I'll tell them that. And then some.”
The setting sun cast dark, twisted shadows over his features. Features I'd once loved. Or I thought I'd loved. He'd killed any positive feelings I had years ago, but he still had ways to manipulate me. I needed to be tough. I needed to be strong. He fed on my weakness, and I couldn't show any of those now.
“Just spit it out. I don’t have all day.”
“I’m threatening to expose your whore ass.” He took another step toward me. “I have videos of you fucking and sucking for money, and I have no problem showing them to your sugar daddies. Take a minute and remember all the shit you did. How do you think they'll feel if they see you taking two guys while you're pregnant with my daughter?”
All the blood drained from my head, and it was suddenly hard for me to breathe. He wasn't lying. Not about this. It didn't surprise me that he'd recorded the times he pimped me out. A few of the guys who'd paid for my “services” had been politicians. The rest...well, it wouldn't have surprised me if he considered selling them as sex tapes.
Another thing that stopped me cold.
“You would do that to your daughter?” My voice was thin but not shaking. “If those get out–”
“Come on, Briana.” He gave me a condescending look. “Do you think she won't eventually figure it out?”
My nails dug into my palms, but I barely felt the pain. “What do you want?”
“The only thing that matters, baby.” His eyes glinted. “Money.”
I didn’t have money, and the asshole knew that. He didn't have to tell me how I was supposed to get it, because I knew he didn't care. I could either ask Sinclair or Dorian for the money...or I could make it on my back again.
And neither of those things would happen. Ever.
“If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the cops,” I warned.
My voice held a steadiness that the rest of my body did not. I kept my hands clenched so they wouldn't shake. I couldn’t let him see. I had to be strong now.
“Is that how you want to play this?” He seemed unruffled by my demand. “You don’t think I’ll do it?”
“Go!” I barked.
The ferocity of the command surprised even me. He took a step back, casting me one more evaluating glance before turning and heading for his car. His laughter floated back to me, still shaking in the doorway. It only intensified the roiling sickness in my belly. But I was determined to see him leave.
Only when Elroy was finally out of my sight did I run into the building and into the lobby bathroom. Once I emptied my stomach, I went to the sink, rinsing my mouth and face. I didn’t cry though. I had to figure out what to do. I didn't doubt Elroy would make good on his threats, and I needed to have a plan in place before that happened. Not just because it would hurt me and Dorian and even Sinclair. But because it would hurt Mikala.
And there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen.
25
Dorian
Pacing had become a fun new habit of mine. Right up there with a root canal.
I liked being productive, but while waiting to hear something from Briana, I'd started doing the most pointless time-wasting task there was: pacing. I went from one side of the living room to the other, then back again. Over and over. I didn’t have my phone as I walked because that would have been fucking sad. Instead, it sat on the top of the bar, where I could pretend that I wasn’t waiting for it to buzz. Where I could pretend I had other things on my mind.
At some point, I'd have to admit to myself that my plan of getting Briana out of my system was either taking a detour or backfiring entirely, because seeing her again, tasting her again, had only made me want her more.
Thus, me texting her fifteen minutes ago and asking her to come up to my room. Selfishly, I'd asked her to come on some sort of hostess errand even though it was a Saturday afternoon, and I didn't know if she had the day off to spend with her kid. If she told me she couldn't come, I'd let it go, but I wasn't quite altruistic enough to have gone through the hotel to find out if she was working or not.
In the text, I said I needed assistance with some business matters, which I figured was vague enough that she couldn't know for sure I was lying based simply on the content of the message. She probably knew I was lying anyway, but at least I had reasonable deniability.
When my phone finally buzzed, I forced myself to finish my lap around the room before I walked over to it. I half expected it to be Enzo since that seemed to be the type of luck I'd been having lately.
I'll be up in a few minutes.
I breathed out a sigh of relief, both because she was on her way and because that meant she was in the building, and I hadn't taken her away from her daughter.
I didn't like this side of me. The side that couldn't control myself where she was concerned. The side that craved her so desperately that I'd formulated an excuse to fly across the country just to see her. It was fucking ridiculous. I'd heard about people feeling this way, and I'd always thought they were foolish. Now I was the fool.
Less than five minutes later, Briana was knocking on my door. I took a second to compose myself, wanting to appear as calm and composed as possible. I was dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt. No shoes or socks because a part of me, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, was hoping to get her in bed again and it was easier to take off my pants if I wasn't wearing shoes.
“Hello,” she said as soon as I opened the door.
Her eyes were smudged with purple underneath, like she hadn't slept well the night before and the makeup she'd put on wasn't enough to hide them. A touch of concern must've leaked onto my face when I saw her because she sent a self-conscious glance toward the floor, and I immediately felt bad.
“Sorry that I look like crap. I had a rough night.”
I reached for her face, stroking my thumb over her cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth, and my body immediately responded. I couldn’t resist leaning in to breathe in her scent.
“You look beautiful,” I said. “Just like you always do.”
She blushed, and I felt her cheeks heat beneath my palm.
“So what can I help you with?” Her voice was steady, but she didn't meet my eyes. “You said it was a business thing?”
Business. Right.
I dropped my hand from her face to link my fingers through hers. “Yeah. Well, why don’t you come in?”
We stepped inside, and I closed the door behind us. When I texted her, I thought I’d be on her as soon as she came in the room, just like I had last night, but something felt different today. Before, there had been electricity still lingering in the air from our week in Hawaii, and it wasn’t that the spark was missing now, so much as it was I could see that something was off with her. Something had dampened that fiery part of her, and I wanted to know what it was.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked, striding toward the bar.
She sat down on the brown suede sofa and shook her head. “Nothing for me, thanks.”
I poured myself a scotch since I was there, then went over to the couch and sat next to her. I wasn't quite close enough to be touching her, but it was close enough that she could initiate contact without it being weird. After a moment, she let out a shuddering sigh and leaned into me, placing her head on my shoulder.
I didn't even think twice as I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in a little closer. “If you’re too tired…”
She shook her head. “No, no. There’s no place I’d rather be, actually.”
Rather than feeling cocky, her admission sent a wave of warm pride through me. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a surge of protectiveness overtaking me. “What’s wrong?”
“Just tired.”
She said it a little too quickly, leading me to believe that wasn’t the whole story. But before I could continue questioning her, she put her hand on my thigh. Her warm palm sent a bolt of desire through me, and my cock began to harden. Slowly, but without hesitation, she slid her hand higher, and then over so that she was cupping me through my pants.
I sighed her name as she rubbed her hand over my partial erection, sending more blood rushing in that direction. She turned her head and started placing gentle kisses on the bottom of my jaw. My neck. Just behind my ear. My head began to spin, and it had nothing to do with alcohol.
I knocked my drink back and set the glass on the low table in front of us. In one smooth motion, I turned to her, and rolled her onto her back, covering her body with mine. She sighed softly as I slid my lips across hers before capturing them. I set a slower pace as I kissed her, wanting to take my time and lavish her mouth with the attention it deserved. I wanted to take away whatever pain had kept her up the night before. I wanted to tire her out so she slept tonight.
And more than anything, I wanted to make her feel even just a tenth of what burned inside me.
Our bodies moved together in the sort of gentle dance that spoke of connections deeper than surface pleasure, connections that existed despite the fact that we were both still clothed.
I caught her hands and stretched them above her head, where I held them together with one hand while the other traced the outline of the side of her breast, the curve of her hip, the flat plane of her belly. She moaned and relaxed against the cushions, granting me free rein of her body. She was wearing tight slacks and a cotton button-up, not the easiest garments for getting under quickly, but I took my time, slowly unbuttoning her shirt and folding it back to uncover the sweet, beautiful flesh underneath.
I sat back to remove my own shirt, and as her gaze followed my fingers, I slowed to the same pace I'd used to undo her buttons. Her eyes devoured me, and I found myself watching her, as eager for her reaction as I was for her touch.
Well, almost as much.
Before I leaned over her again, she traced the outlines of my muscles with her fingers, sending goosebumps racing across my skin. My cock painfully pressed against my zipper, reminding me not to lose sight of the goal.
That's what she did to me. Made me forget about everything else. How could one woman affect me so much with only a touch? She’d barely put her hands on me, and I was aching, desperate.
“Do you want to move to the bedroom?” I asked.
She smiled and shook her head. “I'm comfortable here.” She paused for a moment, then added, “Unless you want to go to the bedroom.”
She was doing it again, deferring to what I wanted, like she'd never been given the freedom to make what she wanted a priority.
“I just want you.” I stood up and stretched out a hand. She took it, and I pulled her to her feet. I kept hold of her hand for a moment, squeezing her fingers. “I plan on making you scream no matter where we are.”
Her skin flushed, taking on a pretty glow that made me want to ravish her even more. Her voice was husky when she responded, “I'm going to hold you to that.”
Fuck.
We undressed each other, running our fingers along exposed skin as it met with the air. Her black lace bra and panties looked positively mouthwatering, and I didn't wait to take them off before I bent my head and took a bit of skin between my teeth. I worried at it as I slid my hands up her ribcage, pushing her breasts up to meet my mouth. I used my mouth to tug down one cup, exposing one glorious breast.
She moaned and tipped her head back while I sucked her puckered nipple into my mouth, gently nibbling before sliding one hand around her back to flick open the clasp of her bra. I kept my hand there to hold her in place as I continued to lavish attention on her breasts. Then I felt her hand slipping below the waistband of my underwear, curling around my cock.
“Dammit, Bri,” I groaned.
I shoved my hand into her panties, fingers parting her folds to find her slick and hot. As she moved her fist in harsh strokes, I rubbed her clit, making firm circles as she writhed against me. She grabbed onto my forearm, whimpering as a shudder ran through her. Her grip on my dick tightened almost to the point of pain, and I drew in a sharp breath.
“Easy, sweetheart.” I eased myself back a step. “Don't want to damage the goods.”
She let out a weak laugh, her body going limp. I wrapped both arms around her, turning her around so that her firm ass was pressed back against me.
“Bend over.” I spoke the words low in her ear.
She complied as I pulled a condom from my pocket and tore it open. I ran my hand over the curve of her hip, then lightly smacked one cheek. After I rolled the condom on, I leaned down and kissed the back of her neck as I slid her panties off.
As they pooled around her feet, I nudged her entrance with the tip of my cock, then pushed inside, slowly stretching her. She moved back against me, her pussy tight and hot around my throbbing dick. I groaned with pleasure as I pulled out, then pushed in again, keeping a nice, leisurely pace. I wanted to savor every moment with her, file away these memories so I could keep them close.
With one hand, I tangled my fingers in her tresses and pulled. Not enough to hurt, just enough to send tingles from her scalp to her toes. Just enough to leverage my strokes so that I could go deeper. As I bottomed out, I reached underneath her and stroked her clit in slow, deliberate circles.
My balls were tight, aching to release, and I couldn't hold back any longer. My hips smacked against her ass with each new thrust, gaining speed and momentum until we both were grunting with exertion. Her fingers curled against the couch cushion, her breathing coming in ragged, hoarse gasps. She was close, I knew. I could feel it in the way her pussy squeezed my cock, the needy little mews that fell from her lips. Her eyes were closed, body focused on only one thing.
Release.
My hips jerked as my own body fought my control. “Come, Bri. I need to...need you...please...come, baby...Bri.”
I was hardly aware of what I was saying, but it didn't matter, because the words did the trick and she came with a shout, body shaking as her arms and legs gave out. I caught her around the waist, burying myself deep as I followed her over the edge.
We were good together. I hated to admit it. I hated to even feel it. Women were trouble. I'd known that almost my whole life. But Briana was a new kind of trouble. The kind that was more of a threat to me than any woman before her, yet I couldn’t stop craving her.
I curled my body over
her, our bodies still connected as I held her up. After a moment, she turned her head and looked back at me, smiling. “Well, that was...I can't say completely unexpected, but definitely unplanned on my part.”
“Did it live up to your expectations?” I asked as I straightened, helping her stand as well. She made a sound as I pulled out but seemed steady enough on her feet.
“You made me yell.”
“I aim to please.” I lowered my head to brush her lips across mine.
She kissed me back, languid and slow. I wrapped my arms around her and tugged her to my chest. Our skin burned where we touched, but it was the best sort of burning.
“I should get going,” she said minutes later when we finally broke the kiss. “Unless there actually was some business you called me up here to help with.”
A stab of disappointment shot through me. I didn’t want her to leave. I’d never been interested in sharing a bed with a woman before just to sleep in, but I had the strangest urge to hold her in my arms as she slept. I wanted to see that she got a good sleep, to make sure that tomorrow was a better day for her than today. But how could I ask for that when I couldn't tell her how long I’d continue to want it?
“You don’t have to go,” I said, trying to make it sound as natural as possible.
She smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I do. But thank you for the offer.” On her tiptoes, she kissed my cheek. “I hope to see you again before you go back home.”
As I watched her go, I wondered what she'd think if I told her that she was the reason I came back. And that, as of now, I didn't plan to leave anytime soon.
26
Briana
I should have been happy with my job. I was up for an amazing promotion that would allow me to break things off with Sinclair and not lose the life I had. Earl was impressed with me, and I had it pretty easy all things considered. But spending time with Dorian had completely sapped away my desire to do anything but just that. I loved being with him, around him, and I knew that wasn't good.