Hendrick had nearly bought one of everything from the room service menu, and then they’d all watched me eat it. Have you tried lobster and truffle mac’n’cheese? I was generally a purist; I believed that good, wholesome food was just as nice as fancy fine dining.
But combine the two? I moaned. It was heaven.
The pulled crab ravioli? Like a divine revelation.
Hendrick kept feeding me bites of different things, watching my face as I ate them. At first, it was weird, but if he wanted to watch me make an O face while eating German chocolate cheesecake, who was I to deprive him—or myself—of the experience? Finally, I was stuffed, and Sampson handed me a small glass of cognac. I sipped it warily, surprised at how smooth it was.
“You guys finished playing ‘feed the country mouse?’” he asked Otto and Hendrick, and I scowled at him. He grinned at me again, and I was glad he couldn’t see my heart rate. “Don’t be like that, Good Girl. It's interesting watching someone who still has firsts.”
“What he means is that it's been a long time since someone moaned like that when I fed something to them. Usually it’s my cock, but a spoon will do,” Hendrick teased.
I flushed pink. “What, like a week? Poor baby.”
Hendrick laughed. “Exactly.” He sighed. “We should go out. I haven’t been in town for ages and if I don’t go out, people will think I got a lobotomy this time.”
I gasped, looking down at my food baby. “I can’t fit in that dress now—I just ate half my weight in luxury foods.”
Sampson sighed. “You’ll be fine. We’ll go somewhere lowkey. Just wear the sequined shirt dress. It’ll hide all your sins. Or the tabloids will think Hendrick knocked you up and you’ll be on the front cover of every trash magazine by next week.”
They all laughed like it was a joke but I was horrified. I was quickly coming to understand that Otto was the empathetic one. “Don’t worry, Aviva. You can borrow my anti-flash jacket. It’s like a shiny material that reflects the photographers’ flashes. I like to protect my privacy too, and there's very little around these two assholes.”
I was still frowning when the alarm on his phone went off. He flicked it off and gave Hendrick a pointed look.
“Going, Mom,” Hendrick sighed, unfolding from the couch and heading into the bathroom.
Otto watched him go, his jaw tense, and then he turned his gaze to me. “This might sound… insensitive, but did the psychiatrist release you with any medical instructions? Prescriptions you need filled, that kind of thing?” I sucked in an offended breath, but he continued on before I could tell him it was none of his business. “I set reminders on my phone so Hendrick remembers to take his meds. Otherwise, he gets caught up in whatever he’s doing and forgets. I’m, uh, happy to remind you too? No pressure though, of course. It’s just easy to lose track of time and days when you’re traveling.”
His cheeks had gone pink, and I wasn’t sure which one of us was more embarrassed. But considering I’d forgotten to take my morning meds already… “Uh, thanks. That would be helpful.”
He looked relieved that I hadn’t taken offense, and I couldn’t help but smile. We sat there, just staring at each other until Sampson made a rude sound.
“Stop eyefucking. Good Girl, go get changed and take your meds. The dress and all the crap that goes with it are in the bags in the foyer. Might be some makeup in there too; told the rep to get you the basics.” He pointed at Otto. “Go get ready too. I know it takes you twenty fucking minutes to do your hair.”
Otto saluted him, then gave him the finger. I did as I was told, but when I saw the absolute mass of designer bags in the foyer, I winced.
Maybe Sampson really was the devil, and if that was the case, I was pretty sure I’d just sold him my soul.
Chapter 13
Otto
“Hendrick! Over here!”
“Sampson, who’s the girl?”
“Over here! Hendrick, what do you think of your father’s campaign?”
The paparazzi were intense tonight, and I could feel Aviva shrinking away. I was glad I’d given her my flash jacket, and I pulled her closer to me. Security kept the paparazzi away from the doors but they were still full on. We’d have to wait for Hendrick or Sampson to rock up to have enough clout to get in, but they were only a few steps behind us. The bouncer pulled back the velvet rope, and the low thumping beat of techno music poured out. I pressed a hand to Aviva’s spine and guided her inside.
She looked so fucking beautiful. She’d taken care with her makeup, obviously as a giant ‘fuck you’ to Sampson, but I appreciated the way the heavy liner made her eyes pop, and how instead of calming her wild curls, she’d made them crazier, like she had a golden halo framing her face.
Hendrick had almost swallowed his tongue when he’d seen her, and Sampson had looked smugly satisfied. The man had taste, I’d give him that, but Aviva hadn’t exactly been an ugly duckling before, either. Now she just shimmered, and it wasn’t just the sequins on her dress catching the strobe lights.
Hendrick walked in front, kissing the cheeks of the society girls who threw themselves in his direction, and the guys gave him tight hugs and hearty slaps on the back like they didn’t all try to trample over him to get to the top.
Fake. All this shit was as fake as the tits pressed against Hendrick’s arm right now, while their owner whispered in his ear. I shot a quick look at Aviva to judge her response, but she seemed fine. Maybe she really wasn’t interested in Hendrick, but I found it hard to believe.
Some women loved the asshole version of Hendrick, and they ate up his cruel words like candy. The ones who made it closer began to know the real Hendrick—who was funny and surprisingly empathetic—and those were the ones who really ended up broken. But those ones who really knew Hendrick, they knew to leave. Once you were sucked into his vortex, there was no escape. I should know.
Sampson made an impatient noise, and I looked over my shoulder to see him glaring at Hendrick. “Just take her somewhere to fuck her already! I need a drink,” he shouted over the music, and Hendrick looked over his shoulder and smiled.
I felt Aviva stiffen marginally under my hand, and I knew the reaction well. Hendrick’s smile was really something else. The best row of teeth money could buy, all the better to smile at his daddy’s constituents with. It was a weapon, that smile. He waggled his eyebrows, and I could hear Sampson huff over the music.
Stepping around us, he grabbed Aviva’s hand and dragged her through the crowd. I was kind of glad that she had her outfit paired with a pair of chunky boots rather than the sky-high heels most girls wore in the club, because the tug of Sampson’s hand would have sent her flying. As it was, I grabbed her other arm to steady her and then followed along behind Sampson as he plowed through the crowd.
We were ushered through to a table, and Sampson ordered bottle service from the server bustling past with a tray full of glasses. He sank onto the couch, dragging Aviva down beside him.
She scooted away from him a little, pushing down the skirt of her dress.
“You look great,” I told her, working hard to keep the lust from my voice. “I’m not sure if we told you that yet.”
She flushed, but couldn’t keep the pleased look from her face. “Thank you.”
Hendrick finally caught up, the chick with the bolt-on tits still clinging to his arm. “You guys remember Destinee, right?”
Nope, didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t mean much. “Hey, nice to see you.” I didn’t say again, because that would be a lie.
“You too, Otto,” she said in her high giggle. “Sampson, nice to see you again,” she purred, and I mentally rolled my eyes. Aviva’s lips twitched, so maybe I didn’t do it mentally. Whoops.
Sampson grunted. “This is Aviva. She lives with us now.”
Aviva’s mouth fell open, and not gonna lie, so did mine. The fuck was he playing at? He knew how that sounded, right?
“She’s your girlfriend? I thought you didn’t do girlfrie
nds,” Destinee squeaked, her hand pressed to her chest like she’d received devastating news, even as she dissected Aviva to pieces with her incredulous gaze.
“I don’t do commitment, Destinee, except in rare and unique circumstances. Or with special people.” His tone insinuated Destinee would never be either of those things, and I had to agree. She was designed by fashion magazines, a product of the whims of people more creative—and far more clever—than she would ever be.
Destinee obviously didn’t understand tone though. “Ah, that's okay. No ring, no big thing.”
That didn’t even make sense. Aviva must have taken pity on the girl though, because she waved a hand. “Too right. Why have one when you can have three, am I right?” She fluttered her lashes at Hendrick, and he stared back at her with feigned insouciance.
The server appeared, dropping a bottle of Belvedere in an ice bucket in the center of the table. Glasses were placed on the table on a shiny silver tray engraved with the bar's name. “This one is on the house, Mr. Rubio. Compliments of management.”
Sampson gave her a tight smile, and she knew when to leave. That was what made a good server. The ability to appear when needed and disappear as soon as they were done. I hated that we dehumanised them like that, but they’d literally get fired otherwise. The owner wasn’t an idiot; this might be a two-hundred dollar bottle of vodka, but people would start flooding here once Hendrick and Sampson’s pictures hit the tabloids in the morning. If they were seen here enough, this place would become the new “It” place.
Pity that we were leaving for Europe tomorrow night.
I poured, lifting the bottle at Aviva. “Want some?”
She hesitated, but nodded. I’d looked up her meds, and knew that they shouldn’t react too badly with alcohol. I’d keep an eye on her though, because I knew sometimes they could mess you up. I was glad she’d trusted me with her med schedule. I didn’t want Hendrick and his impulsiveness to be the reason she fell back into something unhealthy.
There were several bottles of mixers on the table too, and I poured in a healthy splash of lemonade. I didn’t dare do that to Sampson’s though; I’d get a two-hour lecture about the process of making good vodka and the absolute sacrilege of mixing it with anything. Even now, his eye twitched, but he didn’t say anything as he grabbed his glass.
“This place is nice?” Aviva said over the noise, and I snorted.
“Is that a question?”
Someone laughed loudly at another table, and I recognized a young singer and her entourage. Plus all her security, which swarmed around her. Aviva followed my gaze, and while her eyes widened a little when she noticed the singer, she didn’t say anything.
She did take a giant gulp of her drink though, and leaned in close. The neck of her dress was hanging loose so I could see her cleavage, but I dragged my eyes back to her face. “Why don’t you guys have security?”
Sampson grumbled, and Hendrick laughed. “Otto knows Krav Maga.”
She reared back, shocked. I didn’t know whether to be amused or offended by her surprise. “You do?”
I gave Hendrick the finger. “No, I don’t. These guys do have security. They’re just really good, so you don’t notice them.” I pointed to a guy at the bar. “That’s Sampson’s security guy, Evan. He’s scary as fuck and really does know Krav Maga.” I searched the walls of the room. “That one over there in the expensive suit belongs to Hendrick. More conspicuous, but still, quite good.”
Her eyes had slid right past Evan, which was why he was paid so well.
“Have they been with us all day?”
I shook my head. “Not when you and I went to the bookstore. We aren’t that important.”
Sampson frowned. “Don’t say that.”
And that's why I loved Sampson. Unlike the rest of the world, he didn’t see any difference between the value of my life and his. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew that he would be more likely to get abducted and ransomed or some such shit. But he’d mourn my death just as much as he would Hendrick’s. I wasn’t worth less as a person to him, just because I was worth less monetarily. I couldn’t say the same for everyone in this room though.
Tossing back the rest of my drink, I smiled at Aviva. “Want to dance?”
She chewed on her lip. “I’m not a great dancer.”
I stood, holding out my hand. “Neither am I. But it's fun anyway. Let’s go.”
She hesitated for a moment, then put her hand in mine. “Okay.”
I held her close as I dragged her down to the dancefloor, the crowd pulsing with lust, sweat and music. Putting us in the middle, I held her hands, just holding her loosely as she swayed from side to side awkwardly.
I grinned at her, grabbing her arms and putting them around my neck, then placed my hands on her hips. “Just feel it pulsing through your feet, then close your eyes and let it fill your limbs,” I yelled beside her ear.
She continued to bite her lip, but closed her eyes, and I used my hands on her hips to slowly sway us to the music. She was stiff, but after a few minutes, she finally began to unwind, her body relaxing into the music and into my hands. I pulled her closer, letting her body move with mine, her head lolling back, her eyes still scrunched shut.
Her lips parted and I desperately wanted to kiss her. Instead, I let the music strip us both down until we were free.
Chapter 14
Aviva
We danced until my feet ached and my mouth was dry. Otto led me back to the VIP area, and I noticed Hendrick was gone, as was Destinee. I frowned, before slumping back down beside Sampson. I felt sweaty and disgusting, but my heart was racing and I was smiling so wide I thought my face would crack.
“Having fun, Good Girl?”
I grinned at him. “I—”
“Excuse me. You’re in my spot.”
I looked up, and then up a bit more, at one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. She looked like a Victoria’s Secret runway model. Beside her was a girl who was smirking into her phone.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, my buzz leaving me in a rush. Of course Sampson hadn’t been sitting up here alone. I looked at him, and he had his eyes narrowed at the girl. He didn’t look particularly happy to see her.
“Is it your spot?” he drawled coolly, and the sound of it made all the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. He may as well have growled. “Good Girl, you aren’t in your proper seat.” He grabbed my waist and dragged me onto his lap. I sucked back a gasp as he settled me across his thighs. I couldn’t help but look up at the beautiful woman again.
“My place is always at your side. You know after you’re bored with whatever this is”—she waved a dismissive hand in my general direction, and I bristled—“you’ll come back to me, Sonny. You know I’m the only one who can give you what you want.” She leaned over me to purr the last part in his ear. Would it be rude to tit punch her? Would it rupture her breast implants?
Also, Sonny? Seriously? The hell kind of nickname was that? This dark, brooding man was the opposite of sunny.
Sampson held me tight, his hand wrapped almost the whole way around my thigh as he looked up at the model. “This might be a shock to you, Alexis, but the only thing you can give me is an STD. Now, fuck off.”
“Just go away, Alexis,” Otto groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. He knew her too? “This isn’t going to end well.”
Alexis shot a look at Otto. “No one was talking to you, leech.”
Oh. Oh hell no, she didn’t just say that. Mentally, I tore her to shreds. I threw out everything I'd ever believed about female solidarity and the feminist ideal, and told her she was a bleached blonde plastic trash bag. And that her vagina probably smelled like an old tuna sandwich and gangrene.
But I didn’t. No, instead I did something stupider. Downing the drink in my hand, and holding in the cough because I realized I hadn’t mixed it, I smiled sweetly at the woman in front of me.
Then I turned my head to the left and caught Sampson’s lips w
ith mine. It was a soft, sweet kiss. The type two people in love shared. Not two perfect strangers.
Sampson tasted like danger, if danger tasted like expensive vodka. As he pulled back, he nipped my bottom lip softly, like he couldn’t get enough either.
He was a good actor, that was for sure. Alexis looked furious. Her cheeks were flushed, even under her perfect makeup. She looked at Otto. “I saw you out there on the dance floor with her. I thought she was with you, but still no one wants you, leech? You poor schmuck.”
Nope. I twisted slightly in Sampson’s arms and I crooked a finger at Otto. He leaned across the small table that held our drinks, and I grabbed the collar of his shirt, dragging him in for a kiss. I kissed him possessively, closing my eyes momentarily as I drank in the softness of Otto. Then I opened them and stared over Otto’s shoulder at Alexis. A shit-eating look in my eye, I winked at her.
Well, I did until Otto slipped his tongue between my teeth, and fucked my mouth with his. Oh shit, he could kiss.
“You fucking slut,” Alexis screeched, reaching for me.
Sampson’s bodyguard was there almost instantly, restraining her hand and twisting it behind her back until it looked like a chicken wing. She screamed, bringing in the bouncers. The bodyguard, Evan, didn’t release Alexis until security informed him that she would be removed from the VIP area. Apparently, models didn’t rank quite as high as billionaires.
Alexis’s friend glared at us all. “Good to see Hendrick finally took his dick from your ass and let you get some, Otto.” She let out a fake gasp. Or maybe that was me. “Oh, didn’t your new little whore know that you bend over and suck cock for Hendrick Kenley? Oh, what would his daddy say about that?”
She went to flounce away, but ploughed into the chest of Hendrick himself. “Probably the same thing your daddy would say when I tell him his precious daughter wanted to film herself getting railed by the both of us. Begged, even. I’m pretty sure I still have the recording somewhere. Would be a shame if it accidentally ended up in the wrong hands. Also a shame that I’m such a bad cameraman and didn’t get anyone else's face in it but yours. So sorry… but hey, at least you can say you weren’t in Alexis’s shadow for a moment, right?”
Inside the Maelstrom Page 8