by Colbie Kay
Sierra’s mouth gapes open. “Hacker? What…” Tears pool in her eyes. She thinks I’m backing out.
I interrupt her, too. “What I mean is I wanna do this right.” I pull the folded marriage license I applied for the other day out of my back pocket and hand it to the judge. I turn to Sierra, pulling the one-carat princess cut diamond ring out of my pocket, and hold it out to her. “If we’re doin’ this, we’re doin’ it right. We’re gonna be a real fuckin’ family. Marry me?”
Her mouth flops open and closed. Her eyes go from the ring to me. “What?”
“I love ya’, Red, and you deserve to have the same last name as our daughter. You gonna be my wife, let me give you your fuckin’ dreams and shit?” I smile; I do a lot of that since Sierra and I worked our shit out.
Tears flow down her cheeks, but she busts out laughing and so does everyone else. “That was real romantic, Hacker.” She hesitates, and I start to think she’s going to turn me down. She slowly nods, and her beautiful smile starts to appear. “Yes, I’ll be your wife and let you make my fuckin’ dreams come true and all that shit.” I pull her into my side, kissing her lips softly. I slip the ring onto her finger; it’s the perfect fit, and looks stunning on her.
With my arm around her shoulders I turn to the judge with a smile. “She’s perfect!” Everyone laughs harder. Cash shakes his head. “Alright, judge, marry us and then let’s make Letti our official daughter.”
“Okay,” he laughs. He has us repeat our vows after him, and we seal it with a kiss. Our guests clap and congratulate us.
“Congratulations. Now, as I was saying, by signing these papers you promise to take care of Scarlett, you support her financially, emotionally, educationally, and you give her the best possible life she could have as your daughter.”
“I do,” Sierra and I say in unison.
Cash speaks up, “I promise to be the best big cousin.” I take my arm from around her shoulders, reach over, and ruffle his hair. Sierra and I both laugh, but the tears are there. Cash is such a great kid; he reminds me a lot of Max.
“We promise to babysit,” Zoey and Jacey tell him. Of course, they do. That makes everyone in the room laugh.
Dancer speaks up with a grin. “I promise to spoil her and teach her everything she needs to know about boys.”
“The fuck you…” I’m cut off by Hanger.
Hanger chimes in, “We promise to protect her from all the little shitheads that try to date her.” Zoey slaps his arm with a glare.
All of my brothers agree with Hanger, “Aye!”
“You are going to have quite the family, little lady,” the judge says to Scarlett. Damn right, she is! He turns the papers around to us and holds a pen out. Sierra signs them first and I follow. “Congratulations,” the judge announces, and everyone claps again.
I pull my wife into my arms, kiss her temple, and look up at the ceiling. I know Tisha and Max are looking down on this, and I know they are smiling wherever they are. For a long time, I didn’t think I could move on from them, find happiness again, or have a future. They will never be replaced or forgotten, but the man I am today has a lot to look forward to with Sierra, Cash, Scarlett, and the family we have become. I look forward to my new future.
We meet everyone back at the clubhouse to celebrate Scarlett’s adoption—and now, I guess, our wedding, too. I can’t believe we got married; I shake my head at the thought. Hacker and I have had one crazy ride in our lives, but I never imagined it would lead me to where I am today. Happy. Happier than I have ever been in my life. I look across the bar at my husband; his eyes are glued to me, even though Hanger and Gunner are speaking to him. We smile at each other with nothing but love in our gaze, more love than I ever dreamed was possible between two people.
My eyes move over to Cash running around with all the other kids, smiling and laughing. My heart fills with pride for him: the strength that he possesses, the compassion that is within him, and the unbreakable faith he holds, even after everything he has dealt with. He’s going to be an amazing man when he grows up.
Scarlett stirs in my lap, and I look down at our daughter. Daughter. Hacker doesn’t realize it, but he’s already made my dreams come true. I never thought I would get the chance to be a mom, but here I am. Tears blur my vision.
“You okay?” Zoey comes up next to me.
I look up with a smile. “Yeah, better than okay.” All of the ladies join us at the table, and Hacker walks over with something in his hands.
“I had to wait for this to be made, but it couldn’t have been ready on a better day.” He holds the vest out for me to look at. “You like it?” he asks.
On the front of the black vest is a patch that says Red. When he flips it around so I can see the back, it says Property of Hacker. It’s the same type of vest that the other women wear. I smile ear to ear. “I love it!” I stand, letting him put it on me.
“Welcome to the Lady Sinners!” they all shout while the men clap and stomp their feet.
I look around the room then turn to Hacker. “I love you.” I lean in, touching my lips to his.
“I love you too, Red.” He runs a hand down the back of my hair.
I gaze up at him. “I don’t think I could dream of a better life than the one I’m going to share with you.” I look around the room and back to Hacker. “And our family.”
High Stakes Sneak Peek
Interested in even more thrilling reads? try High Stakes by KB Bennett for sex, suspense, and scandal.
Keep reading to try out to first couple chapters!
High Stakes
Chapter 1
For normal people, four am comes too early, comes too soon. But…for a man living in the shadows of demons that are his reality, it’s just a normal day. The nightmares that come when he closes his eyes hold him hostage, choke him until he is gasping for air.
I am a man who is looked up to, envied, wanted even though no one knows the real me. If they knew, they would be terrified, because a man like me becomes a monster that is caged until light turns to dark, and then the beast is set free. No longer looked up to, envied, wanted… He is a monster that is feared, dangerous, and anonymous. He is deadly.
My destination comes into view as I run through Central Park. I take the same path every morning from my building to the fountain. I stop to take a few deep breaths and stretch my legs before taking the hour run back to my penthouse.
Setting the same pace, I run back the way I came, but this time memories flood in. My pace picks up as I remember the past, and I race against myself, trying to stop the invasion.
We walk faster.
So do they.
We run.
They chase us.
“Run, Jamie!”
“Hello, Mr. Kincaid,” the doorman at my building greets, pulling me back to the present.
I reply with a nod, “Hello, Henry.” He holds the door open for me to walk through.
I swipe my private keycard; the elevator doors open and I step through. When they open back up, I enter my penthouse suite. Going up the iron staircase, I head to the master bedroom. Picking out one of my Armani suits, I head for the shower.
My hands lie flat against the stone wall and my head hangs as the hot water runs over my naked body, relaxing my tension. Reaching for my body wash, I lather myself with the soap and try to wash away my sins, but it never works. They’re always there, hidden in the darkness. After thoroughly rinsing and shampooing my hair, I turn the water off and step out.
I dry off with my towel, wipe the steam from the mirror, and tie the towel around my waist. Staring at my reflection, I see the darkness gazing back at me. I look at the ink that covers my arms, hands, chest, and neck. Each dig of the needle told a story; my story. My hands grip the counter until my knuckles are ghostly white; my head tilts from one side to
the other. A deep sigh escapes my lips, and I look at my Rolex; time to get ready for work.
“Morning, Jameson,” Penny, my housekeeper, addresses me as I walk into the kitchen. “I have a spinach egg-white omelet and your coffee ready.” When I was the tender age of ten, Penny was hired to be my nanny until I was old enough to not need one anymore. My aunt and uncle kept her on as an employee, but when I bought the building my penthouse is in I offered her higher pay. She didn’t think twice about coming with me to be my housekeeper.
“Thank you.” I sit down on the stool at my kitchen island, where Penny has everything placed perfectly in front of me on the black and white marble countertop. Picking up the newspaper that is sitting right next to my plate, I smile. She already has it turned to the stock page.
I take my time enjoying the delicious breakfast and reading the newspaper until Penny announces that Brent, my driver, is here. Grabbing my briefcase, I follow him into the elevator, down to the parking garage, and to the car, where he opens the backseat door for me.
I hired Brent ten years ago to be my driver and security guard; he’s older than me by fifteen years, but coming from the navy seals, he knows his job and performs it well.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t realize we’ve stopped until Brent says, “We’re here, Boss.” He stares at me in the rearview mirror.
My eyes meet his. “See you at six tonight, Brent.” Opening the door, I step out of the backseat of my Bentley and onto the busy New York sidewalk.
Pushing through one of the revolving glass doors that line the brick building, I walk into the lobby of my company. Big, bold letters front and center read Kincaid Enterprises; pride swells inside of me every time I see that sign and know this is what I took and created.
Receptionists sit along the twelve-foot desk with headsets on, taking calls and typing away on their computers. They greet me as I walk past, and I return their acknowledgements with a nod as I trek to the elevator.
I step onto the twenty-first floor. “Good morning, Mr. Kincaid,” the receptionist greets with a smile; with the way her eyes rake over my face and body, I know what she’s thinking. It’s the same as every other female; they want to know what’s under the suit, but they will never find out, and neither will she. I never mix business with pleasure—that’s my number one rule, and I don’t give two fucks who you are, you won’t get close enough to find out the real me. I nod and continue to my office.
My assistant is there waiting. “Good morning, Mr. Kincaid. Your first meeting is with Mr. Kimura in…” She looks at the clock then back to me. “Fifteen minutes. Here are the messages from calls that came in this morning.” She hands me the stack of numbers on little pink slips of paper.
“Thank you, Greta,” I reply, giving her a genuine smile.
Greta has been my assistant for the last five years. I remember the day I hired her; this little woman no more than five feet tall with greying hair, glasses, and more than twenty-five years older than me walked into my office. I thought she was of retirement age, and she thought I was a young kid who didn’t know my ass from my head. I proved her wrong, she gave me her no-bullshit attitude, and I knew at that moment I had to hire her—she has been at my side ever since.
Closing the door behind me, I sit down in my chair and turn on my computer. I go over the inventory and make sure all shipments are being delivered on time. Halfway through the order list, my phone rings; it’s time for my first meeting. The stack of pink messages from Greta will have to wait.
“Good morning, Mr. Kimura.” I sit back in my chair and hope we have a done deal.
“Good morning, Mr. Kincaid.” His Japanese accent is strong. “My company’s vote came out very good for you. Email me the contract and I will sign. We look forward to doing business with Kincaid Enterprises.”
“I’m happy to hear this!” I smile even though he can’t see it. “I’ll get the contracts emailed right away—and we look forward to doing business with you as well. I believe your company has made the right decision.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Kincaid.”
“Goodbye.” I hang up the phone and call Greta into my office.
“Mr. Jameson?” Greta asks when she closes the door behind her.
“We closed the deal.” I smile and laugh lightly.
She joins in with my excitement. “That’s great! What do you need from me?”
“Email Mr. Kimura the contract I made up.” I find the file, email it to Greta, and print off a copy for myself.
“Yes, sir.” She turns and walks out the way she came.
I spend the rest of my day putting other contracts together for merging deals, start returning my messages, make calls to companies that we would like to work with, and I get next week’s meetings setup with Greta so she can put it in the calendar.
After a long day in the office, I drop down in the backseat of the Bentley. I loosen my tie and stare out the window. “I’ll be heading to the Ritz-Carlton tonight,” I inform Brent.
“Got it, Boss.” He drives down the busy streets. I feel the change coming, taking over like a drug I fiend for. The monster inside waiting for dark to come; only then will the beast be unleashed.
Brent parks in his space in the parking garage, where the rest of my cars sit beautifully. Using my keycard, I take the elevator up to my penthouse. Making the call to the hotel with my burner phone, I reserve my usual room then take the stairs to my master. I send a text message to Celeste, giving her the details she will need. Opening the closet, I grab my black bag containing everything I will use tonight—including the keys to my yellow and black custom-built Lamborghini.
Going back the way I came, I enter the parking garage once again. Hitting the key fob, I unlock my car and take the driver’s seat. Pulling out of the garage onto the hectic New York streets, I don’t need to look in my rearview to know Brent is following close behind. Racing through the traffic, I have the Ritz-Carlton in my sights within ten minutes.
Pulling up front at the main entrance, I grab my bag out of the passenger seat, step out, hand my keys off to the valet, and walk inside the luxurious hotel. “Good evening, Mr. Freedman.” The receptionist smiles; her eyes rake over my face. “Here is your keycard for room 1249. Please let us know if there is anything you need. Anything at all.” Her tone is heavy with lust.
“Thank you.” Giving her a half grin, I take the card and graze my fingers across her palm. She shudders at the touch; my smile is full as I walk to the elevator and push the number 12 button.
The room is extravagant, modern with its brown and cream color scheme. The bathroom continues the color scheme with the marble flooring, countertop, walk-in shower, and around the jetted bathtub. I sit my black bag on the counter and start preparing for the arrival of my guest.
Celeste is a high-end escort for Miss Magdalene’s, one of the best services in the state of New York. Since I am familiar with most of the girls and them with me, I have my favorites and go directly through them instead of calling the office. Celeste has been my top favorite for the last year or so. She knows my rules, abides by them most of the time, and loves every fucking second of the pleasure and pain I inflict upon her. She has no hard limits; she’s a dirty little bitch and her holes are greedy for a hard fucking.
That’s just how I like them, but I also like my discretion and each girl knows this. That’s why, before I deal with anyone new, I make them sign a non-disclosure agreement through Magdalene. I need my discretion because of who I am; if this were to get out, my reputation would be ruined. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am just to lose it all over a fuck.
Well...not just a fuck, but an uninhibited, raw, angry fuck.
I grab her black sleeping mask, some condoms, and the rope first, then open the bathroom door and walk over to the bed. I lay the items on top of the cream-colored comforter then return to the bathroo
m to get ready.
I remove my black dress shoes, socks, the charcoal grey Armani suit, and my white button-down dress shirt. Standing stark naked in front of the mirror, my cock is already at half-mast thinking about what I will be doing to poor Celeste. Grabbing my dark, loose-fitting jeans out of the bag, I put one leg in and then the other. I pull them up and fasten them as they hang low on my hips, showing my well-defined V, along with that happy trail of hair leading down to my above-average cock.
Reaching for my own mask, I slip it on over my head so that it covers everything except my eyes and mouth. Even if Celeste or one of the other girls disobeys me, they still won’t know who I am, but I like the added protection.
I remove the vibrator next and take it out of the bedroom with me.
She should be arriving any minute.
Turning the lights out, I walk over to the windows and close the curtains; complete darkness. I sit in the chair with the vibrator in hand and wait.
The minutes tick by until I hear the click of the door, and then…
“Are you here?” Celeste asks quietly, her voice trembling, project her anxiety outwards.
I don’t say a word as she walks further into the room.
When she’s close enough, I stand, take a few quick strides, and grab her hips, spinning her around. She squeaks like a little mouse; her breathing grows heavy. I edge us closer to the bed, where she feels around, finding her mask, and pulls it over her eyes.
Reaching up, I brush her hair away from her neck, grabbing it with my fist, and yank her head to the side. Leaning in close, I touch the crook of her neck with my lips then ghost my tongue up until I get to her ear, where I lightly blow hot air against her goose pebbled flesh; she shivers, but stays still like a good girl. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as her lips part and a moan escapes.