Tiebreaker: A Dark Romance (Darker Nights Book 1)

by KT Strange

  And yeah… my life doesn’t run me that much. But something about his arrogance is setting me off and I want to stick it to him.

  He grins, tilting his head to the side, a curious look on his face.

  “Which of my offers?” He asks.

  “Get out,” I spit at him, pointing to the door. My blood is humming in my ears, and I can barely hear my own words over the sound of my heartbeat. He has me pissed off… and…

  My thighs tighten.

  He laughs and strolls towards it, kicking aside my shoes as he leaves, with a sneer.

  “Get yourself an expense account on Net-A-Porte, you're gonna embarrass all of us if you walk out of this tower dressed in these rags,” he says.

  I mutter a curse under my breath as he clicks the door shut, leaving me alone with the confusing, fucked up feelings in my gut.

  Ten

  Olivia

  I… could get used to this. I sink down into the soaker bath-tub in the giant bathroom that is larger than my entire old apartment, and let the bubbles consume me. Five days I’ve been here, at the tower, after a packing service was sent to my old place, and my meagre possessions boxed up.

  Toby was put into a crate that I'd never seen before and taken to my new apartment at the tower

  Speaking of him, I hear him padding around in the hallway outside the bathroom, meowing to himself. This place is bigger than my old apartment by miles , obviously, and he's having a lot of fun exploring. The first thing I did as soon as I got my hands on my stipend was purchased some cat toys. I can hear the jingle of the ball, as he bats it around outside, making me smile. Some things feel vaguely normal, even if everything else has changed.

  I can rest easy now, though, a sense of security descending over me in this giant building, and my stupidly nice apartment inside of it. Is this what it’s like to be a socialite with a trust fund? Not even worrying about where your groceries are going to come from and if you’re going to make rent this month.

  Even still, with a bank account dripping with money, and that stupid Net-A-Porte line of credit, there’s nothing that makes me feel as comfortable as the front door of my apartment.

  Specifically, the lock. The most important thing about moving in here is the lock on the door. It has a double bolt, one of which is only openable from the inside. It’s a strange thing for me to see considering my old place didn't have a deadbolt like that, just a doorknob lock at best. I wonder if it’s standard for every one of the suites in the building, and… I quietly worry what about the guys means I need it. They don’t seem collectively thrilled that I’m here, either.

  I sigh and close my eyes, before a sound interrupts me, like the nagging thoughts in the back of my mind.

  My phone is brand new. And it’s ringing. The latest tech I could feasibly get my hands on buzzes on the countertop of the bathroom, skittering across the marble. With a groan I emerged from the water, grab a towel and wrapping it around myself tight. It’s fluffy and soft, freshly laundered with some kind of soap that smells like the south of France, and I feel ridiculously spoiled.

  I could get used to this. I have to remember I'm only here for 90 days. I have to remember that the merger is everything, and not to be distracted by a disgustingly large bathroom or nice towels. The frowns on Everett and Vince’s faces is enough of a reminder that I might be here, but I’m not welcome here.

  My goal is to stick it out for 90 days. So I can get the stipend backpay, and then after that, I'm out. And I guess… whatever extra is gonna come to me when the company is sold. It's weird for me to be thinking in these terms, when the math I was doing a few weeks ago was all about calculating my portion of the tips out of the jar.

  Now I’m talking millions. It makes me dizzy and sick to think about it.

  My stomach is fuzzy with butterflies as I reach for my phone.

  It's a message from Everett.

  It's time you had your trial by fire, it reads, be ready by five o'clock. Dinner dress. Don't embarrass me.

  My face flushes from the bath and from his assumption that I would somehow make him look bad.

  You forgot the word please, I text back. He just responds with a LOL emoji. I leave my phone on the counter top and turn around.

  Toby has walked into the bathroom and he meows at me, insistent. That’s the noise he only makes when he's hungry. I sigh down at my phone, and follow him out into the hallway.

  “Okay, Tobes,” I say, “let's get you fed and me dressed.”

  The inside of my closet is mostly empty. That's because my new closet is now a giant 15 foot by 15 foot walk-in room with a chaise lounge in one corner. I'm not sure why I'm supposed to be napping in my closet, but I guess it's a nice touch. Toby seems to like sleeping on it. I just hope he doesn't decide to start sharpening his claws on it too. I don't want to think what they’d charge me for the damages once we leave.

  I flick through the three dresses I own and chew on my lower lip. There really isn't anything here that I could be caught dead in at a dinner party event thingamy. I'm really not sure what Everett is taking me to, but he mentioned dinner dress. Is that something I can google? Ugh, I wish I’d paid more attention to the fashion-y girls at college instead of hiding out in the library, haunting the stacks like a ghoul in my thrifted cargos.

  There… is a concierge downstairs though, almost like a fancy hotel. And if I can discreetly ask, they might know Everett’s schedule. And they might know what would be appropriate to wear. Along with my new phone and a set of my apartment keys, a matte black credit card with my name etched into it appeared on the kitchen counter yesterday. I'm guessing I'm supposed to use it, but I don't even know the limit on it. It's still there, in its envelope. Because once I'd seen it, I dropped it and backed away like it was a snake ready to bite.

  This is the kind of situation that calls for a nice dress, though, I figure. Probably not from Target. Maybe Macy's, I haven't set foot in there since I was in college when I’d wanted to get my mom something nice for Christmas.

  This dinner thing is as good a reason as any to christen that new black card though, right?

  I pull on some jeans and a t-shirt, pat Toby on the head, and gingerly extract the credit card from its envelope. It gets tucked into my wallet, which somehow looks more expensive with it sitting in the old leather, and I make my way downstairs. Somehow, I feel like I'm stealing. But isn’t the card a sign that I’m supposed to use it? Aren’t I meant to?

  The concierge is just where I remember it. He smiles when I tell him I need to go shopping for a dress. And I'm about to ask how to get to Macy’s, when I see her standing there, her apron tied on, and a look of shock on her face.

  Mariah.

  The breath rushes out of me and I realize that in the tumble of everything I'd completely forgotten to call her. She marches over to me just as the concierge is pulling out a tourist map, and making a note on it for me.

  “Where have you been,” she demands. “I have been calling you for days!” She crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot on the ground once, a petulant half-stomp.

  To say she's furious would be an understatement. I can tell that I'm about to get a real tongue lashing, and my shoulders tense up in anticipation.

  “The repairs to the shop happened faster than I anticipated,” she says, looking me up and down with a giant frown on her face. “And I need you, can you work right now?”

  I'm stuck my mouth, half open, not sure how to explain to her everything that's gone on. And not sure that I want to.

  I also am chilled to the bone at the sight of her. She knows what she did to me and here she is demanding I work like nothing ever happened.

  Like she's didn’t sell me out. Like she didn’t sell me.

  She steps up close, one eye on the concierge, and one on me. I try not to shudder in revulsion as she gets closer. My throat is acid, painful burning.

  “And you owe me half that money they paid you,” she hisses under her breath.Her eyes narrow. My g
uts turn to ice, and possibility that it was a mistake evaporating in the full fledged sun of truth. She knew and now she’s standing here like I owe her.

  A simmering heat in my gut is telling me I owe her a slap. I breathe out slowly, trying to find my ballast.

  “Miss?” the concierge asks, glancing between the two of us with concern. “May I help you?” My gaze snaps to his.

  “Yeah. I need to go to Macy’s,” I say, turning away from her, completely blanking her presence. She can get fucked.

  Mariah makes a noise a fury in the back of her throat.

  “Are you fucking ignoring me?” She asks, inhaling like a noisy kettle, “you get your ass inside the coffee shop and put on your apron. Now, or you're fired.”

  I stand there, staring at the concierge helpless to respond to her.

  My tongue is thick in my mouth and refuses to move, my whole body feels heavy through and through. I want to scream at her. But I can’t.

  And it's like I'm swimming through honey.

  I’m begging my body to move. Just to shift away from her so I'm not so close to her. The concierge frowns at her.

  “Mariah,” I croak out.

  The gentle bong-bong of the elevator arriving interrupts my thought process, splinters the frost that’s gathered over me and kept me from even blinking. I glance up as Kai emerges from the elevator, looking determined.

  He walks right up to me, and Mariah goes from furious to wide-eyed.

  “Oh, there you are,” he says, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Let's go. Sorry I kept you waiting.”

  Just like that my muscles become unstuck and he guides me away from her.

  Her mouth opens, and she makes a squeaky noise of rage.

  I move to look back at her. Kai sighs, a noise under his breath.

  “Don’t,” he says, “she's not worth it.” My belly flutters. How does he know?

  Someone gets the doors for us and we're outside, fresh air thawing the pit of ice in my stomach.

  That's when he drops his arm from around my shoulders.

  “What were you doing down there, talking to her?” He asks, and off look in his eyes. So he knows about her, who she was. Okay.

  Okay Liv, breathe Liv.

  “I am, I was-” I can't form a sentence, and I take another deep breath.

  “I was trying to figure out how to get to Macy’s,” I say. His eyebrows rise.

  “Doing some shopping?” He asks.

  I lift my phone up, where it's clenched in my hand.

  “Yeah, I've got, well, Everett asked if I could go to this dinner thing with him tonight and I guess I need a new dress because nothing I have would probably work. I don't think...”

  Kai's expression turns stormy in an instant, and he looks away.

  He presses his lips together and sighs.

  “All right, well why don't I take you to Rodeo Drive?” He lifts up a hand and before I can argue a black Town Car appears in front of us.

  The driver gets out and opens the door for me.

  Just like that.

  It must be so nice to be Kai Brooks, where everything you want is delivered to you.

  You just have to lift a finger, and a car is right there to drive you.

  You just have to raise your eyebrow and your assistant arranges for a fuck toy to be left in your green room.

  But I've got no fight in me to tell him the truth now.

  The showdown with Mariah has shaken me and it's all I can do to get inside an wedge myself against the far door, hoping that nothing happens between us.

  Which is weird because his presence feels electric to me.

  It feels like he's pressed up against me, even if he's a foot away.

  He looks at his phone, thumb scrolling along the screen. Nonchalant. Like this is no big deal.

  “So, this dinner, what are you going to wear…” he trails off, and his eyes drag down my legs. I inhale and my thighs press together, trying to deny the fire inside of me any oxygen.

  A faint smirk plays across his lips.

  “I don't know,” I say, “I’ve never been to a event like I'm sure he's taking me to. I don't even know why he's taking me.” Kai’s blue eyes slide up my body to meet mine. They hold me, trapped in his intense gaze. His smile twists into another smirk, cocky as fuck.

  “Well it's obvious. You're the one percent-er. If he gets you in his back pocket he can overrule me and Vince.” He shakes his head. “It's not working, is it? His stupid little plan?” He asks.

  I cough in surprise, and clear my throat.

  “Not really since he’s basically called me a slut and been a jerk since I got here.” I shrug. “He didn't even say please.”

  Kai wets his lips with his tongue. I have to look away. That just makes me think… things.

  “I would,” he murmurs.

  I glance over at him.

  “What?”

  “I’d say please,” he says, again barely above a whisper and it shocks me right to my core.

  His eyes are intense as they gaze into mine and his fingers drag over the leather of the seat, brushing the back of my hand.

  Instantly, the fire roars to life inside of me.

  My body remembering what it was like to have him touch me. Finger fuck me, make me come on his cock and hands.

  I let out a breath.

  He leans over. I realize he isn't even wearing a seatbelt.

  I am. I'm pinned in place. Again, just like I was against the door of the green room.

  He kisses me, mouth rough, teeth dragging over my lower lip.

  I want to tell him to stop but I just moan instead.

  And in less than 10 seconds he's got a hand between my legs, rubbing up against the seam of my jeans.

  I shudder and he rubs me there in circles.

  The warmth building and building inside of me, but part of my thoughts split off, watching as if this is happening to somebody else. Not me. Not my body.

  Is why he came with me? Because he wanted to molest me in the back of the town car?

  “Any minute now we're gonna get to the shops,” he says, “and you're gonna need to stumble out of this car. Knees weak, pussy wet and desperate for my cock.” His words vibrate through the shell of my ear.

  And I moan, the sound of it shivery in my throat.

  In response, he pulls away with a grin, rubbing his fingers over his denim-covered thigh.

  “Greedy greedy,” he taunts, “none for you today.”

  I can't breathe as the car pulls to a stop. Just like he said, I’m not able to get up.

  The door swings open, and I sit there stunned. He even has to reach over to unbuckle my belt. I slide out of the car and into the sunlight blinking.

  As the town car pulls away, under orders to come back in an hour, I turn to him, furious and frustrated.

  “So what do you think you're doing?” I demand. “What was that all about?” My voice is barely above a hiss, and my whole body is electric.

  He leans in close, lifting his hand to cup my cheek before skating to my lower lip.

  I can smell my arousal on his skin.

  He smirks.

  “Maybe I'm just trying to control you too, one percent-er.” He bites his lip, eyes half-closing, looking deadly sexy and promising to destroy my panties with just one sweep of his lashes against his cheeks. “Or maybe I'm trying to get back inside the sweetest, tightest pussy I've ever had.”

  And with that, he walks towards the store’s door.

  Eleven

  Olivia

  “Are you coming shopping or what?” He asks. I force my shaky legs forward, off-kilter and dizzy.

  There's a definite weirdness that falls over us when we get inside the store. From the way eyes are following us, I get the feeling that they all know who he is, that he's the famous rockstar Kai Brooks. But they're politely ignoring that and they're treating him like a normal customer… except for the silence that seems to bubble around us as we walk through the aisles. And when he
points to three different dresses on the rack, they nod and whisk them away to the back of the store.

  Me however? They're all openly staring at me. No little covert glances out of the corner of their eyes. I think they want to know who I am.

  That’s kind of ridiculous because who I am would shock them if they knew the truth. But do they need to know? Does anyone? Kai has no idea what he did to me. I'm sure of it now. He's too comfortable around me, too sure of himself.

  And he doesn't seem like that kind of monster. He’s not like Everett who seems like he’s so hungry he would consume me whole if he could, or like Vincent who either pretends I’m not there or levels a smoldering glare my way.

  Kai turns to me, holding a dress up for me to look at. His eyes are warm, and he’s biting into his lower lip as he gazes at me, like he’s imagining me in it.

  I swallow down my feelings. I’m going to try and put it behind me. As much as I wasn't ready for it to happen because I didn't even know him when it did.

  And if I think about it too much, it's like looking at the sun. It hurts and makes my eyes water.

  I just want to hide from the world. His scrutiny feels painful on my skin. Which isn't helping things with all these shopkeeper assistance staring at me as I tag along after him. He seems to notice as well, raising an eyebrow as one girl avoids looking at him to eye me up instead. He grins back at me.

  “I think we better get you something to walk out of here in,” he says. I look down at my jeans.

  “What's wrong with my clothes?” I ask. Although I know.

  I don't fit in here. I'm pretty sure that each of the price tags on these clothes reads four figures. And that's before the decimal points. The thought of spending more money on a T-shirt than I used to spend on rent makes me feel a little bit nauseous. Kai seems to get that I'm not exactly on board for this plan with one look at the expression on my face.

  “My treat,” he says and he bends down next me as if he's looking at a display of jewelry directly beside me. “Since I left you hanging in the car and all that,” he says under his breath. Immediately my face is hot and I'm blushing. I try to look away.