This was the house her parents left behind. Now gutted and rearranged and looking like something Jade had never seen before.
This was all that was left of them. This was all that was left of the life she’d lived with them. Just a giant empty space. She swallowed hard.
A sharp pain spasmed under her breastbone and Jade rubbed over the spot. No, she was not sad. It was all just finally over.
She got into the car and started the powerful engine while Dee huffed some more in the passenger seat. “That was so lame,” the girl said.
“Probably. I didn’t promise you any excitement on this outing.”
I don’t even recall inviting you along, Jade thought but kept that last bit to herself.
“So true.” Dee buckled herself in. “Fine.” Her phone beeped and she reached into her back pocket for it. Staring at the phone, she made a happy noise. Her eyes gleamed when she looked up at Jade. “You wanna go someplace I want now?”
What was the alternative? Head back to the hotel and work? Drive herself crazy wondering why her parents gutted the house they loved so much? Try not to think about Carter and all the ways he effortlessly destroyed her peace of mind?
Jade shrugged and gave Dee her most carefree smile. “Sure.”
Chapter 4
Jade was seriously pissed at Carter.
After trying to convince him she’d used him in college, she’d stormed out and left him shocked in her wake. Shocked not because she’d used him as a sex toy that one glorious afternoon in September, but shocked that she’d even attempt the lie.
He may not have been very experienced in college, but even a guy as oblivious as him knew a virgin when he slept with one. On his dorm bed with the two of them naked and face-to-face, she’d been trembling and nervous. When he touched her, she blushed. She’d been amazed at his body, the way it hardened for her and sought eagerly to plunge into her delicate, feminine flesh.
Then there was the blood.
All these years after, he still vividly remembered the details of that bright afternoon. Her wide eyes when she saw him naked. The trembling tips of her breasts under his tongue. Her soft, kittenish cries as he kissed between her thighs.
Jade had been so tight, he’d barely been able to get inside her. Still shivering in the wake of the orgasms he’d given her with his tongue and fingers, she whimpered from that first stroke. Then she couldn’t get enough of him.
The memory of that afternoon seeped into Carter like a drug.
Chill. You’re at work.
He stood in the middle of his office, staring at the closed door she’d disappeared through less than ten minutes before.
Jade Tremaine.
The woman who’d driven him crazy with lust and protectiveness in college.
The woman who still haunted his dreams.
The initial buzz of shock from her presence had worn off during the meeting with her and Kingsley. The whole time, Carter hadn’t been able to stop staring at her. She was even more beautiful than before. The hair she used to wear long and straight in college was now cut short and natural. That wild, sensual energy she had back then, all a teasing possibility in her lean and curvaceous frame, had grown to its full potential. More than even before, she looked like an angel. A sensual, unforgiving one. But an angel just the same.
The office phone chimed suddenly, pulling him from his obsessive thoughts about Jade.
“Yes, Caroline?”
“Your sister called,” his assistant said over the intercom. “She wants you to meet her at Liquid Crush.”
Was it that time again? A sigh gusted from Carter’s lips.
Apparently, Paxton had made it her mission of the year to get him to relax. At first, she invited him to different parties and functions all over Miami. Sending texts to let him know a ticket waited for him at the door. Sometimes it was just a note about his favorite artists being in town. Most of the time, he didn’t go. He had a lot on his plate.
Between keeping the more irresponsible members of his family from ending up in jail or worse, making sure the company was safe in more ways than one and trying various methods to get Jade out of his subconscious, he was a busy guy.
Paxton didn’t want to hear any of it. So she’d stopped sending the messages to his phone and instead sent them directly to his assistant, making the events seem like appointments. Caroline knew damn well what Paxton was doing. But she apparently thought he needed to relax too. Meddling women.
One of the youngest of them and one of the last set of twins, Paxton was a typical Diallo. But where her siblings were driven and very controlling, she was a genius and just a little bit crazy. A lot like her twin, Jaxon. Who was officially the reason Jade Tremaine was back in Carter’s life.
Carter wanted to wring Jaxon’s neck a little. But he also wanted to hug the kid.
“Caroline, you know I can’t do that. I have another meeting.” Technically, that wasn’t true.
“Technically, that’s not true.” Caroline parroted his thoughts in a creepy way he’d come to accept over the years.
Sighing, Carter dropped his head back in the chair.
Yes, what he had was an appointment for a massage. One that Caroline had quickly put together for him since he had to come back to work so early after Vegas instead of taking the little break he’d planned.
“But if you insist on calling it that, fine,” she continued. “Your meeting is in an hour in Morningside. Paxton has your tickets to Liquid Crush waiting for you at the door. There’s no time you have to be there but she suggested you get there in about two hours. Maybe three if you’re feeling too relaxed to move.”
Why did he ever think it was a good idea to get an assistant? He was the fixer of the family. He could control his own damn schedule.
“As always, it’s your call,” Caroline said, playing her best card. “But you know she wants you to be there. She says she never sees you anymore.”
Damn both these women. But Carter shook his head, fighting a smile.
“Okay. Let me just get myself together and head out to the masseuse. I’ll see how I feel after.” But they both knew he would go and meet his sister.
After a long and luxurious massage that left him feeling boneless and ready to confess his worst sins to the massage therapist, Carter went home to change, grabbed a quick ten-minute nap to power up then left his house for the club.
He wasn’t sure what Paxton had in mind.
She knew he wasn’t the reggaeton-and-rum type. He also wasn’t into electronic music or the meat market they called clubs either. When he picked up women, it was in one of his natural habitats. The airport. His gym. Once he’d even met a woman at the car dealership where he’d gotten his Bugatti.
The clubs just weren’t his scene. The few times he did go, it was to places that catered to picky bastards like him.
Which was apparently just what Paxton had found.
He walked into Liquid Crush, and immediately felt relaxed. The woman at the door—a model-gorgeous specimen in a tight tuxedo jacket, leather pants and high heels—immediately knew who he was.
“Follow me, Mr. Diallo,” she said after giving him a warm but impersonal smile. A definite signal she wasn’t there for his entertainment.
She held a flashlight between her slender fingers, and after exchanging a more genuine smile with the hostess, guided Carter through the crowded—but not overcrowded—club.
In the high heels, she was nearly as tall as he was and it was either that or her sheer confidence that kept her moving steadily through the club with not a single excuse me. He kept pace behind her and didn’t miss the lustful glances most of the men they passed threw her way.
The place glittered like the set of a TV spaceship. Cool blue lights. Innovative seating. A DJ playing music he loved—’90s music with occasional Top 40 hits. The mood was chill.
A pair of women brushed past him. Bare shoulders. Thick bodies. One of them turned to him as she passed and looked over her shoulder at him, all lush lips and sweet invitation.
Him? He barely stopped himself from looking down at himself to see what she was looking at in such an interested way. But one thing he’d learned about women over the years was that they were too mysterious for him to figure out.
When he was out with his brothers, most of them six-and-a-half feet tall and movie-star handsome, the women who tended to pick them like oranges from a backyard tree habitually chose him last, if at all. Most of the women Carter ended up in bed with had gotten there because of his skillful and steady pursuit. Most women didn’t want muscle in a suit. Unless, like the woman on the plane, they wanted what the suit itself symbolized.
Wealth. Money. VIP Passes.
Carter knew he was too big, too plain looking—at least in comparison to his brothers—for most. And practically every day, he was just fine with that.
“Here you are, Mr. Diallo?”
The place the hostess took him to was obviously VIP. It was elevated above the rest of the bar by a short flight of stairs, a level that held five other VIP booths sheltered from each other by frosted glass walls.
The VIP area was perfectly placed. High enough to have a view of and access to the dance floor, but distant enough that he could keep himself away from most of the other clubgoers or have a private conversation—or semipublic sex—if he wanted to.
“Thank you,” he said.
“It’s our pleasure.”
The leather seats were plush and warm—no cooling leather to get used to—and soft enough that he immediately felt comfortable. They instantly invited him to sink in and let any worries float away. The woman straightened with another of her warm smiles just as a server appeared behind her, a man in the same outfit, this time with a tray holding a pair of whiskey glasses, a bucket of ice and a small platter of calamari.
“With our compliments,” the woman said. “If you need anything, Paulo will be checking on you throughout the evening.”
Carter thanked her again and after a few exchanged words with Paulo, she was gone.
The place was big, but not too big, and the music was just right. Somehow, maybe through noise dampeners, the music wasn’t as loud up in the VIP area as on the dance floor. He could actually hear himself think.
The club and VIP were very nice. He could easily fool himself into thinking this place was private, made just for him with the sensuous bodies moving on the dance floor, the music and the bottle of his favorite whiskey in front of him.
But he tried not to fool himself very often.
“Carter! You came!”
He looked up in time to see Paxton dancing her way toward him. His sister’s smile was brilliant. With a clear drink in hand, she looked happy about how her evening was going. Carter smiled back at her then laughed when she flopped down in the seat next to him, bouncing in the soft leather. Amazingly, she didn’t spill a single drop of her drink.
She looked good. Not at all like the sulky recent high school grad he saw a few days ago when they’d talked about Jaxon and all the crap he was getting into lately. Her face was more relaxed and, in her shorts and skimpy blouse, she looked ready for a casual Saturday at the neighborhood pool.
“What are you wearing?”
She giggled and flopped her sneakered feet up on the table in front of the leather couch. “Clothes, obviously.”
The massage had worked well on him. His body was loose and his muscles felt smoothed and softened. If all he had to do was go home and climb into his bed tonight, he’d be very happy. Which must have been why he didn’t growl at her about being a smart-ass.
“God! I can’t believe you actually came.” She grinned around the straw stuck in her drink. “I was about to give up on you.”
“Feel free to give up. I’m a figment of your imagination. Just like you’re a figment of mine,” he said. “I could swear this is a twenty-five-and-up bar.”
She giggled again and poked him in the side. “Don’t worry about that, grandpa. I won’t do anything crazy like let them see me drinking here.” Paxton shook her glass at him. “This is just soda water.”
Like most of the family, she was hyperaware of their image now that the company was ready to go public. Generally, she did what she wanted. But she was also the more responsible of the twins. She’d never do anything to deliberately hurt the family or their business. She and Carter had talked about that enough times in the past. Too much for a kid her age, he thought.
She was vibrant and wild, young enough to want her pleasure on tap. He wanted that for her. Not the mountain of responsibility he’d eagerly grabbed on to at her age.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” he asked her.
“I brought a friend. She needed to relax. We were just about to leave when I got the text that you were here.” She bumped him with her shoulder. “Nice one. Way to keep us guessing. I texted Leo and told him. He doesn’t believe you actually showed up.”
“I’m sure our brother has better things to do than worry about my social life.”
“He actually doesn’t.” She looked serious for a moment, then cracked another smile. “I’m heading back to the dance floor. Don’t be surprised if Leo shows up.” She smacked an orange-scented kiss on his cheek then was off again.
She had too much damn energy...
Smiling, he poured himself a double shot of whiskey and prepared to sit back and enjoy the drink. He’d give the club another hour before heading back home.
“Oh!” Paxton popped up again. “They’re about to play your song. Come dance with me.”
She didn’t take no for an answer, and he didn’t even bother to give it. A quick sip of his whiskey and then they were off. The dance floor was packed. Gorgeous women. Men who were dancing as well as the women they were trying to get into bed that night. The music was loud and the bass shuddered into his body and crept up his spine.
Tupac’s “California Love” shook the place.
He loved this song.
Beside him, Paxton jumped and danced, looking more like a young teenager than a recently turned nineteen-year-old. When the song ended, she briefly leaned close. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” She was good at disappearing and did it again with another one of her cheerful smiles.
Coolio’s “Gangsta’s Paradise” started and made him smile.
A soft body bumped him from behind and stumbled. He turned, ready to catch the woman in case she fell.
“Careful, mi—”
But the words fell back to wherever they came from. He damn near swallowed his tongue. The woman dancing near him took his breath away. Her long and sensuous back moved to the rhythm of the song. There was nothing erotic about it, but the way she moved transformed everything he’d ever thought about when Coolio sang “on my knees in the night.”
Her head was thrown back. Elegant throat bared in her pleasure. Her slim waist moved like a snake and invited the press of his hands.
It was Jade.
Although her back was to him, he would recognize her anywhere.
She danced near him, her body on lush display in the same suit she had on at their meeting earlier today. But she had discarded the jacket, and the dark pants that had looked respectable enough on her sensuous body now seemed erotic and unbelievably sensual under the club lights.
The curve of her hips made his mouth dry. Lust throbbed in his lap and he wanted nothing more than to pull her back against him and press his suddenly aching hardness against her bottom. It didn’t help that she was dancing with her eyes closed, her arms up in the air like she was all alone on the dance floor, maybe all alone in a world of her own making.
What was she doing there?
“Jade...”
Her eye
s opened and blinked at him; her long lashes fluttered. It was a motion that shouldn’t have looked as decadent as it did. With her arms in the air and her body rocking to the bass-heavy music, her eyes slowly opening, it seemed as if she was waking from a long sleep.
“Carter.”
Her voice was husky, and rough. It reached into his chest and lower, grabbing him hard. It wrecked him.
She glanced around like she was surprised to find herself in a club and surrounded by so many people. Or maybe she was just surprised to see him. He moved closer. There were words to say but he couldn’t find them. Her body was incense and smoke and it lured him. For once, he allowed his body to rule.
He moved closer and his belly brushed hers. Electric. Had it been that way back in college? He nearly shook his head. The past was past. It had messed with him for years now. In dreams. In the regret he didn’t know he’d been carrying around until he saw her in his brother’s office.
That afternoon in his dorm room, she had blown his world wide-open by coming to him. Soft and needy, and then fiercely hungry, begging him to comfort her. That afternoon had been nothing like in his dreams. But it was easy to forget with the dream riding him hard every time he closed his eyes.
It had rewritten history in him.
“Jade...”
“Carter...”
Again. Always reciprocal, the two of them. Until they weren’t.
Without his permission, his arms slipped around her waist.
At first, she stiffened in his arms. “What...?” Then her lashes fell low over her eyes before flicking back up. “My parents died,” she said.
The arousal stuttered and fell from him. “When?”
She swayed, moving closer, hands settling on his shoulders. He expected the smell of alcohol on her lips, but all he got was the clean scent of her breath. Her lips, nearly wiped clean of all color, lured him closer.
Jade was absolutely naked with him in that moment.
“Over a week ago.” Her voice was low and her breath brushed against his lips. “A car accident.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Her Perfect Pleasure Page 5