by Alta Hensley
Should I scream out the safe word? I could end it all now. Give the money back. I could… but no.
No, motherfucker. You pissed on me, and now you fucked me in the ass with a kitty cock.
He owed me that fucking money. He owed me!
Minutes felt like hours as the brutal ass fucking continued, but eventually Marco grew tired, or bored, and threw the anal device to the ground. “Get cleaned up and compose yourself. Your punishment is over for now. Let’s go put you in your cage, dirty pussy cat.” He gave his maniacal laugh again.
Chapter Twenty
Kenneth
Staring into my glass of the most expensive whiskey that I could find behind the bar, I struggled to focus my thoughts. Since arriving back in New Orleans and Spiked Roses, I’d wanted nothing more than to charge to Anita’s side, hold her to me and take her away from the nightmare of that fucked up contract. Marco was a son of a bitch and honestly deserved to die. I also knew, though, the recklessness of such a thought. I had considered telling Harley everything that had happened. Harley Crow would kill Marco without giving it a second thought. But as I touched the bandage on my neck, I knew that having Harley do something would only cause problems for the club. I had worked too damn hard trying to make all our problems go away.
Why the fuck did Anita sign that damn contract in the first place? And why was she so damn stubborn? All she had to do was give the money back. She’d said she hadn’t spent it yet, and I believed her when she said so. So, why the fuck would she put herself through all of what Marco had in store for her?
We were not in a relationship, other than the few passionate encounters we had shared. I couldn’t just claim her as mine, sweep her up into my arms, and take her away from all the evils of this fucked up world. If I even tried, Marco wouldn’t exactly be open to the idea. I didn’t need to start a war between Marco’s camp and Spiked Roses. It would be our undoing and not cool to make my issues the issues of my business partners.
I was also smart enough to know that trying to rescue and take Anita away would put her in even more danger than before. Depending on which hit man Marco sent after us, the danger could be even worse than what she was already living with.
I knew Marco Nunez to be ruthless and he always got what he wanted, especially if his ego and pride were involved. But I couldn’t allow her to serve her two-week sentence. There was no fucking way. And the fact that I let her go made me just as much of a monster as Marco… if not even worse.
The thought of buying out Anita’s contract came to mind over and over. If Marco even allowed it, that is. Going in and simply handing over the money and taking Anita away would piss off Marco. It would attack his ego. So I knew I had to make it seem like a legit business deal. Make the man believe I wanted what he had and was willing to pay for it. If I went about it as delicately as if I wanted to buy a rare painting he was in possession of, he may be willing to hand her off to me.
But would Anita even want that? Honestly, I had no idea what the woman wanted. I had never actually taken part in The Tasting Room for myself. I wasn’t interested in owning a woman or having to pay for any services. Though I had sexual tastes that certainly bordered on taboo, I had never had an issue convincing willing partners with my charm alone. That and money. A shitload of money gives any man charm.
Relationships were not going to happen in my life. I hadn’t really had a girlfriend since college. I didn’t operate like that. I was a selfish son of a bitch, and I liked it that way. I actually enjoyed the freedom of being without one. Fuck and farewell.
But there was no doubt in my mind that Anita and I had some form of hot chemistry. I didn’t want to admit to it, but the woman had my balls in a goddamn vise. Her body willingly submitted to me, almost screamed out for more of my dominance. But her mind? That was a completely different story. She fought me just as I fought her. Mental warfare on both of our parts, and I couldn’t tell who was winning.
There was something about Anita that fascinated me to the point where I had woken from my sleep, my body drenched in sweat, my mind reeling with images of her naked brilliance, her sultry words begging me to take her in ways no decent woman should want, should crave, should demand with every move of her body. She was a dirty, dirty girl, and I fucking loved it.
This woman held the power… and I was willing to risk everything, including my life, to get her back.
Yes, I wanted her back.
I wanted her back.
I should have never let her go.
What the fuck was I thinking handing her over? Anita had been right. I was a weak pussy. I was so focused on doing everything right, to not fail at my mission, that I hadn’t realized that I just failed. I failed her. I had fucking failed her. I was ashamed of myself. She had asked for help. She had begged. But I was so driven and focused on my original goal that I couldn’t see the bigger picture. I couldn’t even hear the pleas of a woman who needed me. She had needed me, and I fucking failed.
I tried to make myself see reason, however. I had nothing to offer a woman, let alone one like Anita. I certainly wasn’t capable of surrendering my own heart to her. I couldn’t change who I was. She deserved the type of man who gave her flowers and draped her with jewels. She deserved a man who promised her the world and would swoop in on his white horse and make all her problems disappear. And if that man couldn’t make them disappear, then he would buy them away. Yes, she deserved that man.
I was not that man.
I was as far from that man as you could get.
Sin, indulgence, and a harsh level of cold cruelty had been the lane I’d chosen. I liked dark undertones in a good fuck. I preferred it. I knew this, embraced this—it was who I was. But with Anita… with Anita… could I change? She deserved the opposite. She deserved the happy ending that each staff member who works for Spiked Roses dreams of. They all dream of the day that their wealthy as fuck prince charming comes charging in and turns them into the princess. Anita Kyle deserved her crown just as much as the other girls, and I knew damn well that if I left her alone and went my own way, she would find it. Hell, the type of woman she was, and the fight that she had in her, she would damn well take or steal the fucking tiara if she had to. She was stronger than any woman I had known, but was she strong enough to endure the next hellish two weeks?
This last thought was like a punch to the gut. I didn’t know what she had been made to endure in my absence, nor did I know the full extent the level of her misery. Sighing as I took a long sip of my whiskey and closed my eyes to block the image of her battered body beneath the cruel hands of Marco, I knew the answer… I knew goddamnit. I knew.
I glanced around the floor of the club and noticed that all the founding members were present. They were all scattered around—smoking, drinking, talking, making money as they did absolutely nothing. Knowing they would hate me for it, since they were here for pleasure and not business, I walked up to each one of them asking for a meeting in the board room. I needed to discuss a decision that could fuck up everything. They had a right to know. They had a right to have a say in this.
As I stood at the head of the African blackwood table, like I had done before in so many of our other meetings, I felt a lump in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to admit to fucking up. I didn’t want the men to know I had failed. But I had.
“What’s this all about?” Alec Sheldon asked in his thick southern accent. “It’s quittin’ time in my neck of the woods.”
I nodded as I acknowledged his comment. “I appreciate you all coming in here tonight. I know we don’t like to conduct business once the night has started here at the club, but this can’t wait. I can’t wait.” When I saw that I had everyone’s attention, I took a deep breath and continued. “As you all know, I found Anita and brought her back to Marco.”
“Yeah, poor girl. I hate to think what that dick is going to do to her,” Prince Roman said. His words were like a stab to my gut.
“Which is why I called you all here,
” I said. “I want to get her back here safely. Out of the hands of Marco. She’s only been there for a couple of hours, and that’s far too long as it is.”
“She can cancel the contract anytime if she wants,” Matthew said.
“She’s too fucking stubborn. And for some unknown reason, she needs the money. So bad, in fact, that she is willing to put herself through hell for it.”
“So what do you want us to do about that?” Matthew asked.
“I want to buy out her contract from Marco. I think it’s the only way to go about it and still honor our business relationship with him.” I reached for my glass of whiskey and took a long swallow. “I fucked up, guys. I shouldn’t have brought her back there. She begged me not to. She was scared, but also wouldn’t walk away from her payday. I should have just given her the fucking money myself. I watched her walk right into the hands of the devil, and did nothing at all. I need to make it right.”
Harley snickered. “Ah, I see what’s going on here. You fucked her. And not only did you fuck her, but you developed a thing for her.”
I glanced at him and noticed his amused face, and his arms crossed against his body. Ass. I then looked at the rest of the men who shared in the enjoyment of Harley reading me for a change.
I shrugged. “Yeah, I fucked her. But do any of you blame me? You assholes would have fucked her too.”
“Not judging you, bro,” Harley said. “Just stating the facts.”
“So regardless if I fucked her or not,” I continued, “I want to get her back. Spiked Roses needs to buy out the contract.”
“Oh, nooooo,” Victor chimed in with a chuckle. “You get to engage in that contract. If I remember correctly, you stood in that very spot and told us that if we wanted to fuck her, we had to buy her. New rules, remember?”
The rest of the men started laughing and nodding in agreement.
Matthew added, “Oh, yes, and the rest of us have been good boys. We have kept our dicks contained to the Tasting Room. Not one of us have engaged in the long term contract that is a year’s salary if broken.” He smirked. “I find it funny that Mr. Legal Man was the first to break the rules set forth.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. They had a point. The new rule. I had fucking created the new rule. If you fuck her, you have to buy her.
I closed my eyes and ran my hand through my hair. “You have a fucking point.” I hated to admit it.
“What’s the penalty for Mr. Lawyer?” Alec asked the men around the table. “He fucked her before he bought her. I say we add a penalty.” The belly laugh that followed, by him as well as the others, had me grinding my teeth.
“Laugh all you want, dicks. I fucked up. Okay. I fucked up. But I want to fix it. And, yes, if I have to fucking buy her because I fucked her, then so be it. I don’t care. I just want her out of the hands of Marco Nunez.” I looked at Harley Crow directly. “Harley, can you help me out here? You know Marco the best out of all of us. You know how he operates. Last time I saw him, he put a damn knife to my neck, so I don’t exactly see him welcoming me with open arms and liking when I say I want to buy Anita from him.”
Harley stood, angrily slamming his fists onto the top of the table. “He fucking did what? He put a knife to your neck?”
I put up my hands, and said calmly, “Don’t get worked up. I took care of it and it’s over. A nonissue. And frankly, I deserved it and worse for being a fool and allowing Anita to go back to him. I don’t want you to do anything about that. I just want Anita safe and for this entire mess to be over.”
Satisfied with my answer, Harley sat back down before saying, “I can get her back. I got shit on Marco, and all I have to do is walk in there and take her. Simple. Easy.” He gave me a wink. “But you still have to sign the contract. Only seems fair you have to follow your own rules.”
“Fine,” I said, relieved to hear that Harley could get Anita back and without much of an incident. “I’ll sign the damn contract. Just bring her back safely. Tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Anita
I know I should have been grateful to be entering through the doors of Spiked Roses a free woman… well, sort of. I no longer belonged to Marco Nunez, and somehow I was able to still keep all the money. But Harley Crow had told me on the drive over here that my new owner was Kenneth Saxon. He had bought out my contract—whatever that meant.
I walked into the main room, taking in the red and black leather furniture, the black bar with red barstools, and the black spiked vases cast all around that held two to three dozen roses in each ostentatious urn. I glanced up to look at the huge crystal chandeliers that appeared as if they were dripping diamonds onto the clients below. The large overhead fixtures reflected the gas lanterns that dotted the damasked wallpapered walls, giving off a warm and seductive vibe. I scrutinized the men who sat around sipping on top-shelf booze and smoking hand-rolled cigars searching for Mr. Kenneth Saxon. He’d saved me, and yet I wanted to fucking kill him too.
He’d left me.
He’d abandoned me.
He’d allowed me to be hurt.
And yet… he had ultimately saved me.
It didn’t take me long to see him sitting in a black leather chair in the far corner of room. It was one of his favorite places. He could lurk in the distance, out of the view of most, and observe. Watch. Just like he had watched me while I worked.
When Harley saw that both Kenneth and I had made eye contact, he patted my back and silently left me to walk the rest of the distance alone to where Kenneth sat.
“Why did you buy the contract?” I asked, deciding to get straight to the point as I approached him.
He stood up and reached for my hand, guiding me to another chair next to his. “Can I get you something to drink? A Jack and Coke?”
I shook my head. “No, I want what you’re having.”
His eyebrows rose. “I’m drinking whiskey that is $300 a glass.”
I nodded. “Yes, I’ll take what you’re drinking.” This was just the beginning of making the bastard pay.
He signaled for the waitress for her to bring us two more drinks, and then took a seat next to me. “I want to start off by saying that I am sorry. I should have never let you go back to Marco. I should have bought out the contract to begin with.”
His immediate apology threw me. I hadn’t expected for it to happen without me pointing out what a dickhead move that had been.
“I also want to say,” he continued on, “that I am sorry for how I treated you after we had sex.” He took a deep breath and finished what was left of the whiskey in his first glass. “The truth is, I was scared. You fucked with my head and it scared me.”
“Scared you?” This conversation wasn’t going at all how I’d expected. I’d thought for sure I would be walking up to an arrogant bastard who now thought he had the right to piss on me if he chose to because he’d bought out my contract. Not that I’d expected Kenneth would actually pee on me, but I’d thought his demeanor would be one of superiority rather than humility.
“Yes. You threw me off my game. From the minute you came into my office looking for a job, you had me changing the rules of a game that I had dominated up until now. I would have never fucked you. In fact, I would have never actually been the one to go get you in the first place. You intrigued me from the beginning and then acted like a damn magnet. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you in the club. I couldn’t get you out of my thoughts. And when you signed that contract with Marco, I fucking wanted to explode.”
The waitress arrived with our drinks, and I did take a moment to appreciate the fact that there was $600 worth of booze sitting on the small table between us.
When the waitress left, he continued. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even want to know what Marco did to you when I left. If you tell me, I might just kill the man. So don’t.” He paused and looked into my eyes with so much sadness. “But I wish to God I could somehow take it all away. I wish that I could wipe the memory of that monst
er from your nightmares and you’d never have to remember it again. Is that even something that is possible? How bad did he break you?”
I took a sip of the whiskey and tried not to cough. It burned but I liked it. “He didn’t break me,” I said softly. “I think I was already broken. And the truth is, I did this. You didn’t. You kept telling me to give the money back and I refused. So this is on me.” And as much as I wanted to blame Kenneth because it felt good to have someone else to blame besides myself, I was the one who had put myself in that situation not once but twice.
“If it wasn’t Marco who broke you, who did?” he asked.
“Not a who. A what. Life, I guess. Or the lack of it. I wanted something so bad, but I couldn’t exactly put my finger on what that was. I suppose I wanted color. Bright, bold, and exciting color. And in search of that, all I got was black. Thick, ugly black.”
“Do you want me to have Marco killed?” he asked with zero emotion.
“Would you? If I said yes?” I was surprised by this. I didn’t take Kenneth as the murdering type. Other members of the club were for sure, but I didn’t think Kenneth was.
He shrugged. “I’ll probably have someone else do it. But if you want him dead, I can make that happen.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “Marco is a sick asshole, but he didn’t do anything I hadn’t agreed to. It was spelled out in the contract. He went into that tasting with his expectations and wants set out on paper. I knew what they were. I’m not saying I like the guy or ever want to see him again, but I did agree to his terms. He was only fulfilling his end of the contract. I’m really the one to blame for all this. I have to come to terms with what I had agreed to do. I’m so fucking ashamed. And I really hit the lowest point of my life tonight with Marco, but then… sometimes you have to stare the devil in the eyes to be able to conquer him. I’ll get past this. I’m going to see it as a nightmare that I have woken from. I’m awake now. It was all a really bad dream.”