Heat (The Stark Affair Book 1)

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Heat (The Stark Affair Book 1) Page 2

by Cross, Skylar


  Colton Stark lying on a floating bed with a bevy of bikini-clad girls in a cavern-sized pool in the Bahamas. Colton Stark in a black tuxedo with a bevy of designer dress-clad girls at a château in the Loire Valley. Colton Stark in a cowboy hat, chaps, and a dirty blue shirt on a horse with a bevy of cowgirls wearing Daisy Dukes at a ranch in Nevada.

  Zing!

  A new raging river starts. I clamp my thighs together.

  Seriously... what the fuck is wrong with me? He’s a goddamned criminal. Nothing but a perp in an expensive suit.

  I hardly ever drink. But Kristy is coming over, so I probably need one. I walk over to the side cabinet and take out the half-full bottle of wine.

  Don’t get me wrong. Kristy is amazing. We’ve been dating for five months.

  But lately... I’ve needed a little something-something to help me through her visits.

  Bad sign, huh?

  I twist the cap off the bottle of Pinot Grigio and pour it into one of the cheap wine glasses I bought as part of a set at Target. I take it back to my Mac laptop.

  Damn.

  There he is... sending signals to my pussy. It’s like he and her are talking behind my brain’s back.

  I sip my wine and keep Googling.

  I hit on a picture of Colton Stark in a shiny blue suit with Jessica Alba at a party in the Hollywood Hills.

  My muscles tense up a little.

  Next there he is in a white suit with Elena Diaz at a Paris fashion show.

  Fucker.

  Then there’s a video of him wearing nothing but black shorts. Long shot with a telephoto lens. He’s on a big yacht with... Fuck!... No fucking way!... Michelle Rodriguez.

  I take a huge swig of Pinot Grigio and hit play.

  She’s snuggled into his bare chest. He leans down and kisses her.

  Passionately.

  I’m completely wet now.

  What the fuck? I mean seriously... What the fucking fuck?

  Fine. Whatever.

  I put my wine glass down and put my right hand under my shorts. Past my panties. Onto my clit.

  Mmmmm. God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  The short video ends. I click the replay arrow.

  Michelle Rodriguez and Colton Stark move together again. And kiss again.

  I stroke my folds, now fully engorged and wet.

  I lick my lips, imagining his tongue darting in and out of my mouth.

  I alternate long strokes on my lips with little circles on the head of my clit. I notice that Colton Stark has a strange tattoo on his shoulder. Part-tribal, part something else. There’s writing.

  I make faster circles. My breathing becomes shallow. I press harder on my nub.

  Knock, knock.

  Fuck!

  Kristy.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  “One sec!” I say as I pull my hand out of my shorts and slap the screen shut.

  I swallow down the rest of my wine, pour another glass, and take a sip. Then I open the door.

  Kristy, grocery bag in hand, kisses me and comes in.

  “God, I wish you’d give me a key,” she says. “You have mine.”

  Her blonde hair is extra-spiky today. She’s in a glittery tank top and man shorts that do nothing to soften her girly curves.

  I put my arm around her and pull her to the mirror next to the door and look at us portrait-style. Shit, she does look like Miley Cyrus. And I do look like Michelle Rodriguez. Damn.

  “What are you doing?” she says.

  “Nothing,” I say. “What did you get, spikey?”

  She starts taking out some odd-looking packages from the re-usable grocery bag with a big smiley face on it. “I saw a recipe on TV this morning for the most delectable dish. It’s completely vegan.”

  I slurp down half of my second glass of wine. “Oh, great. Then I’ll just grab a burger later after you’re asleep.”

  “Sofe, you need to stop eating so much meat. We evolved to eat sustainable foods from the earth. Critters shouldn’t eat other critters.”

  “Then somebody better go arrest all those lions and tigers.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  “You have too much free time.”

  I grab her and kiss her. Our tongues meet.

  “Oh God,” she says.

  I pull her down onto the couch. Usually, I’m on top but I’m the mood for something different today.

  Kristy’s beautiful green eyes meet mine, but I get a flash of Colton Stark’s baby blues.

  This is getting ridiculous.

  I snake myself under Kristy, and kiss her fiercely.

  “Oooh, somebody’s horny,” she says.

  “Shut up and fuck me,” I say.

  “Mmmm, I love it when you get all power-trippy.”

  She does her usual kissing and licking my neck softly. Then uncovers my breasts, traveling slowly all over me in little circles.

  C’mon girl, speed it up! I need to get fucked.

  Like today sometime.

  She makes it down to my shorts and sniffs my crotch.

  “Mmm, somebody was thinking of me before I got here,” she says.

  “Mmm-hmmm.”

  Mmm-hmmm isn’t technically a lie because it isn’t a real word, right?

  She moves down to lick and massage my legs. She likes my muscular thighs.

  But I’m in final launch sequence, so I have to take charge here.

  God, do I have to do everything myself?

  I reach down, rip off my shorts and shove her face into my pussy. She snorts.

  “Wow,” she says.

  I ignore her and push her head up and down along my lips like a toy. Her tongue dances nicely around them, her nose teasing my hood.

  God!

  I close my eyes, throw my head back, and see that face again. Square chin with some stubble. Those high hard cheekbones with rugged little valleys surrounding that straight nose. That stone-like forehead. Those blue eyes. Looking up and to his left. Pondering something.

  Kristy’s tongue hits my clit.

  My hips buck into her face and...

  I come.

  And come again.

  She laughs, lapping all around.

  As my breathing returns to normal, she tries to continue, but I climb off my bed, grab my panties and shorts, and put them on.

  “Hey!” she says.

  “So, dinner?” I tie my hair back up.

  “What about my turn?”

  “Your turn will take an hour-and-a-half. I’m hungry. I need food for stamina.”

  She stands up and kisses me lightly on the lips.

  “You’re such a bitch,” she says. “I think that’s what I like about you.”

  I kiss her back.

  “Yeah, I know,” I say.

  * * *

  “I love you,” says Kristy.

  My tongue is deep in her pussy, but I freeze in place.

  Oh no she didn’t, did she?

  I had been thinking about Colton Stark again. Been a while since I had cock. I was imagining one in my mouth. Well, not any cock, actually. His. I bet it’s glorious. Then after my mouth, my pussy. Then my ass. God, it’s been an eternity since I had anything in my ass. I miss that.

  Then Kristy said what she said.

  Fuck, what do I do now?

  My first instinct is to run, but I can’t do that.

  Just keep licking, Sofia.

  I continue like she said nothing. But maybe with not as much enthusiasm.

  Hard to fake that.

  “Did you hear me?” she says.

  “Huh?” I say as I suck her hood into my mouth.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Kinda busy here,” I say, trying to make her come so we can be done with this.

  “I said, I love you,” she says.

  Fuck. I’m in trouble.

  I lick her clit furiously. She taps me on the head, gently lifting my face so she can look down into my eyes.

  Which apparently say it all.
We hold our look for a few seconds.

  I know that look. Hurt puppy dog. I wonder what mine looks like. Probably not good.

  She flips her legs up and off the bed. “I have to go.”

  “Kristy... hey... don’t do that.”

  She furiously collects her things while getting dressed. “Why? Why do I always do this?”

  I put my arm around her but she wiggles away from me. “Do what? What? We were having a good time!”

  “When, Sofia? Maybe three months ago, but lately it’s like you’re, I don’t know... somewhere else.”

  I bite my lower lip and put my hands on my hips.

  “Kristy, I like you. I really do. I just... haven’t had much luck with relationships. And I don’t know if I’m ready for...”

  “For what? For a real relationship?”

  “No. No! That’s not it. It just... I’m not... I still...”

  She throws her big purple satchel with a yellow peace sign over her shoulder while slipping on her sandals.

  “Sofe, it’s my fault. I get too attached. Always happens. I need to go before I get my heart broken again.”

  “So this is goodbye? Just like that?”

  “No... yes... maybe. I just need to go right now, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I move to kiss her but she shuffles past me and is out the door.

  And I breathe.

  Was that a sigh of relief?

  Shit, I think it was.

  Chapter 4

  Colton

  100mph.

  Ha!

  I’m on Alligator Alley heading east into the homestretch. I downshift as I see some red tail lights ahead, dropping to 80.

  Other people, really. Don’t they know my Bentley and I own this road?

  Not kidding either. Stark Worldwide owns South Florida. Since the 1960s when my dad started it.

  So, if I have so much power... if I’m captain of such a huge juggernaut of a capitalist beast machine... why am I out here alone playing daredevil speed games?

  Question of my life.

  I blast past the rest area. Nothing but darkness ahead.

  I love it out here. Nothing but me, the cypresses, and the alligators.

  One of these nights, I’m going to lose control and end up in the ditch.

  Fine.

  Who cares? My life is worth nothing anyway. Sure I’ve got billions of dollars, but so what? It’s all controlled by Jasper and the board.

  I’m a prisoner of Dear, Dead Daddy’s outrageous success. Success as a cutthroat businessman, that is. Certainly not as a father.

  I rev the Bentley. The needle springs above 100.

  How fast can I take it? 105, 110...

  Let’s push it.

  115.

  Now we’re talking, baby! Ha ha!

  I could easily make one little twist of the wheel at this speed. That’s all it would take. Just one little twist and I’d be flipping.

  Crashing.

  Burning.

  Dead.

  I floor it.

  118...

  119...

  C’mon 120, baby, c’mon.

  Then I get a flash of The Talon Group... my protégés. If I flipped and died in a blaze of glory out here, what would happen to The Talon Group? My little army. What then?

  They’re the only thing that keeps me going. The only reason for my continued existence.

  I need to build a contingency plan for them, don’t I? Damn right, I do.

  I smell rubber as the needle edges over 120.

  I laugh out loud.

  “One twenty, baby!” I scream into the night.

  I downshift as I near Weston, the lights of urban sprawl in the distance. I take I-595 to the Pike south to I-95.

  The Miami skyscrapers on my right glow with bright promise as I cross the Tuttle.

  Magic City.

  Yeah, right.

  More like a big, neon prison to me.

  As I coast in and blend with the regular folk traffic, I make a decision.

  Once I finish training The Talon Group for their mission, I’m going to activate my secret “Self-Detonation” plan.

  It’s all on a hidden USB flash drive in a non-descript little Key Largo house that nobody knows I own. Go-Fast boat docked outside with a Canadian passport in a fake name all ready for Havana. Camouflage covering it, just waiting for me. All I need to do is plug in the flash drive and...

  Boom!

  A disappearing act for Colton Stark. A nuclear detonation, self-destruction, go-down-in-fucking-flames plan for Jasper van der Voort and Stark Worldwide.

  Then I escape. All tracks covered. Disappear into South America to a jungle village. Marry a sweet Latina girl. Live in a tiny shack the rest of my life. No Bentley, no mansion, no yacht. Just lots of sex and babies.

  But not quite yet. I have a couple more missions for The Talon Group.

  So tonight, I’ll just do what I always do. Meet with the crusty old Board at the Gold Club, then head over to SoBe, find some dumb party girl with caramel skin, thick lips, and a plowable round ass. Wonder who she’ll be tonight.

  I pull into the Gold Club. The valet takes my car. I drop him a C-note.

  I hate the Gold Club. Ugly old men with paunchy bellies and $5,000 cigars. Don’t they know the surgically-enhanced blondes that sit on their laps are nothing but vapid gold-diggers?

  Of course they do.

  But they don’t care.

  “Colton!” says a voice near the entrance to the Restoration Room.

  I turn to see the crown prince of Gold Clubbery himself, Jasper van der Voort.

  Oh, he’s epic tonight! A flowing white shirt that’s half pirate costume, half superhero cape. I stifle a laugh.

  I look around for Hector. Where is he? There he is. Standing off to the side, waiting to protect his lord and master.

  Hector looks like he’s made of rock. Not just any rock. The kind you see along the walls of the mesas in Monument Valley. Weathered. Rough. Indestructible. He speaks about as much too.

  Wonder how much Jasper pays him to protect his body. And from whom.

  “Jasper,” I say as he puts his arm around me. A cold chill travels down my spine.

  “Come outside,” he says.

  We walk outdoors into the hot night. It’s October but summer is hanging on. One of these days, soon, we’ll get that first clear crisp sunny day full of winter promise.

  The pool area at the Gold Club has a spectacular view of Miami Beach. The blondes are out in full force tonight. Hair all done up, wearing glittery dresses that sparkle in the outdoor lights. They wow and ooh in all the right places while old men in expensive South Florida leisure suits tell tall tales.

  Later, the girls will let the slimy saggy scumbags fuck them. Then they’ll get a Maserati or a personal credit line for their willingness to spread their legs. I saw a guy give a house to a girl here one night, no joke. That’s how rich these assholes are.

  “You know, you’ve come a long way, Colton,” says Jasper as a puff of cigar smoke wafts into my face. “Your father wasn’t sure you would be able to channel your energies. All that boxing crap you used to be into. But when I saw your presentation today in front of the Board, I was impressed. I’d even go so far as to say you’ve become like a son to me.”

  I shudder with disgust, but only on the inside. I picture my secret USB flash drive in its Key Largo hiding place, full of destructive power. The thought comforts me.

  “Thanks, Jasper. But really, I did that in my sleep. It’s easier than you think to run circles around our competition. Just takes some vision and a little algorithmic beauty.”

  We reach a sofa at the edge of the outdoor patio. Gold drapes are set up with candles on a low table.

  Jasper sits on one of the couches in a leisurely way, with one leg tucked up under him. I notice his white pants are shiny.

  I sit like a man on the opposing chair. I notice Hector has followed us, now standing off to the side looking out at t
he ocean.

  A waiter with a black moustache in a white tuxedo appears from nowhere and bows.

  “Good evening, Mr. van der Voort and Mr. Stark,” he says. “Your usual drinks tonight?”

  “No, Orlando,” says Jasper, “tonight is special. Bring me a 1965 Macallan.”

  Orlando beams like he’s having an orgasm.

  “Wonderful choice, Mr. van der Voort. Mr. Stark?”

  “The usual, Orlando,” I say.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, you know what? Tonight, make it two.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He slinks away faster than he appeared.

  Jasper turns to me. “Colton, you seem a little frustrated lately. Is everything going well for you running your private little playground over there?”

  Jasper got widow’s peaks young. Now that he’s in his sixties, they’re two racetracks with a thin tuft of black-gray hair in the center, slicked back. His gray eyes sit at the bottom of two sunken pools of darkness under a vast forehead.

  “No,” I say. “Everything is super-fan-tabulous, Jasper. Why do you ask?”

  He stares off at the ocean while puffing on his cigar.

  “Colton, I like you. You have demonstrated a strong sense of maturity lately. Much more centered.”

  “I have a new hobby,” I say as I picture the faces of The Talon Group.

  “Really? What might that be?”

  “I’ve started a super-secret organization to take over the world. Training some young soldiers to march forth and dominate. They’re very good.”

  I smile. Jasper’s eyes drill into me, then he laughs.

  “You know, you almost had me there for a second.”

  I give him a fake laugh. Oh, if only he knew.

  “But seriously, Colton, you and I need to talk. Now that you’re approaching an age where the partying of youth is beginning to dull, I’d like to discuss your future.”

  My stomach turns on its side. I had always known this conversation was coming, but I never knew when.

  Orlando arrives with our drinks. Once he’s gone, I throw down my first shot of Dos Lunas tequila.

  “My future?” I say.

  “Yes. As you well know, because you’re the sharpest tool in the shed, not everything with Stark Worldwide is one hundred percent what it appears.”

  Oh, this is rich!

 

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