Stay A Little Longer (Kadia Club Nights Book 2)

by Nicole York

  “What Daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  She laughed. God, it was a beautiful sound.

  Cole smiled and dug into his lasagna. Like every time he’d hung around Cameron, there was a nagging feeling of guilt tugging at his gut. Just by being with her, he was potentially exposing her to danger. If there ever was an enemy like Adam Cooper who got it in his head to fuck with the DeMarco Syndicate by fucking with their women, Cole would be singlehandedly responsible for putting Cameron in the line of fire.

  The thought made his stomach churn.

  He hadn’t known the woman long enough to feel such things, yet there he was, feeling them. He felt protective over her. He knew in his heart that if something were to ever happen to her, he’d snap. And he’d go to the ends of the fucking earth to do what needed to be done to keep her safe.

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  Cole looked up from his meal that he’d been glaring at as his thoughts darkened. “Sorry?”

  Cameron smiled and sipped her wine. “Enough of this serious talk. Let’s get to know other parts of each other. What’s your favorite color?”

  “Uh, blue I guess?”

  “And your favorite meal?”

  Cole pointed at his plate with his fork.

  “Noted.” Cameron giggled softly. “Favorite holiday?”

  “Favorite holiday?” Nobody had ever asked him that question before. “I have no clue.”

  “Mine is Christmas,” Cameron said. “I love the lights and the snow and the music so much. Come on. You must have a favorite. What did you love most as a kid?”

  “Halloween, I suppose.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Because I could be someone or something else for a night.”

  “You didn’t like who you were when you were a little boy?”

  Cole sighed. He still didn’t like himself now. “No, I didn’t. I was a pretty unlucky kid. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time. I got beat up a lot at school. My brother used to come to my aid but he always arrived after the damage had been done. My mother was always too busy working three jobs at a time to keep us fed and clothed. I was lonely. Tired all the time. Directionless. But Halloween? I could be whatever I wanted.”

  Cameron leaned forward, compelled. “What was your favorite costume?”

  Cole smiled at the memory that sprang to life in his mind. “I was young. Really young. Maybe four or something. My mother was doing better then. She had a bit of extra money in her pocket so she made sure us kids had a costume to wear. My older brother went as the Lone Ranger.”

  “Amazing.”

  “And I went as a knockoff cowboy. I remember the spurs my mother made out of tinfoil and attached to the back of my boots.” Cole chuckled at the memory. “Yeah, that was a good Halloween.”

  Cameron finished her bowl of pasta. “So there is more to you than kicking people out of bars and working for a mob boss.”

  He shrugged. So there was.

  Like his obsession with underground fighting and how he’d been using it for months as an outlet for his anger. Anger, now that he thought about it, that he hadn’t really felt since Cameron walked into his life and turned everything upside down on him.

  He soaked in the sight of the beautiful woman in front of him as she delicately sipped at the edge of her glass of wine and gazed up at the lights strung over their heads. She was more magical to him than Santa Claus had ever been when he was a young boy. Santa made time for every child across the world.

  But Cameron?

  The only man she was making time for was him, and that felt pretty damn good.

  “Should we get out of here?” Cole asked.

  “Is there somewhere you’d like to go?”

  “My place,” he said.

  Cameron’s cheeks flushed pink. “I would love to.”

  Cole peered through the windows of the restaurant and waited for one of the staff to look over. He waved his hand, letting them know he and Cameron were ready for the bill, and turned back to Cameron to nod pointedly at the bottle of wine on the table.

  “What are we going to do about this?” he asked.

  Cameron picked up the bottle and filled each of their glasses. “Guess we’d better drink quickly.”

  He loved the way her lips pursed against the bottom of the glass and how they left a dark pink, perfect imprint in their wake. His thoughts began to spiral until his jeans were uncomfortably tight. He resisted adjusting himself as Cameron smiled and waved at an elderly gentleman walking by with a fluffy white dog on a leash.

  He waved back and the dog hopped up onto the curb and went right to Cameron to sniff her sneakers and lick her bare ankle. Cameron giggled and leaned over to give the little guy a scratch behind the ear.

  “You’re so handsome.” She smiled as the dog’s tongue rolled out of his mouth. His tail wagged and the owner stopped, chuckling as his ferocious beast received affection from the most beautiful woman in all of New York City.

  It still astounded Cole that she was with him tonight.

  23

  Cameron

  The hallway on the sixth floor of Cole’s apartment building smelled like Kraft Dinner, laundry sheets, and old carpet. It was dimly lit with muted beige walls and dark green carpets with little red diamonds on it. Cameron walked along behind Cole after they got off the elevator and heard him fish his keys out his pocket.

  They stopped at the last door on the left. Cole held up a hand, silently telling her to hang back and wait for him.

  She looked down the hall the way they’d come and hugged herself as she waited. The fluorescent light above her head flickered. She tilted her head back to look up at it and found the entire thing riddled with bugs that had gotten caught on the inside of the light and died up there.

  Eww, she thought, noticing the long legs of a big spider lying on its back up there.

  “The strata company doesn’t do a very good job with maintenance,” Cole said, catching her inspecting the light. He unlocked the door but didn’t open it. “Stay here a minute.”

  She nodded.

  Cole opened the door silently and stepped inside without turning on a light.

  Cameron waited silently in the hallway for him and wondered what he was doing. If he felt the need to clean in order to impress her, he was being silly. She didn’t care if his place was messy. As long as he had a bed to fuck in and comfy pillows to rest her head on after, she’d be happy.

  Cole returned about a minute and a half later and opened the door for her. He flicked on the hallway light and she stepped in. His floors were light gray laminate and much nicer than the carpet out in the hallway. He closed and locked the door behind her and gestured for her to move deeper into the apartment ahead of him.

  She did.

  It was a simple place. The entrance hallway was about ten feet long. On the left was a small bathroom with no shower or tub—or decorations, for that matter. She continued past that and the storage closet on the right. They emerged in the main living area. The kitchen was small on the right side with a wraparound counter that would be perfect for stool seating, but there were no stools. In fact, there was hardly much of anything.

  Cole went to the fridge. “Want a drink? I don’t have much. Beer, soda, water?”

  “I’m okay actually. Thank you.”

  Cameron took her purse off, left it on the kitchen island, and tried not to let confusion show on her face. The apartment was sparse. Where there should have been a dining table, there was a punching bag. He had a sofa, but it was small and old looking, and there was no TV, no coffee table. Hell, there was nothing homey about the place at all. No pictures were hung on the walls. There was nothing on the kitchen counters except a coffeemaker. There were no curtains on any windows, just metal blinds in need of a good wipe down.

  She turned to Cole. “Did you just move in?”

  He shook his head. “Been here a little over a year or so.”

  “Oh.”


  He smiled wryly. “Not very convincing, is it?”

  She shook her head. “You haven’t bothered to settle in?”

  “I’ve never successfully made a place a home since my wife left me,” he admitted.

  Cameron’s heart constricted. Poor guy.

  “Maybe you just need to christen this place with some new memories,” she suggested. “Better ones. Ones that when you think back on them, you’ll remember being in this apartment.”

  Cole moved toward her. “Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Just one,” she whispered.

  Cole reached out to touch her cheek. His palm was warm. She leaned into it and closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to find hers.

  They didn’t.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she searched his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  His jaw flexed and he looked down. “I’m trying to make sense of why you’re here with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After everything I told you tonight, you should run in the other direction.”

  “I shouldn’t do anything besides what I want to do,” Cameron insisted as she pressed her hands flat to his chest. The swell of muscle beneath her palms made her heart race. “And right now, I want to be here. With you.”

  His anguished eyes slid back up to meet her stare. “Even after what you know?”

  Cameron wrapped one arm behind his neck and pressed the index finger of her free hand to his lips. “Hush, baby,” she whispered. “I trust you. I need you.”

  He ran his hands down her back until he passed her hips. He squeezed her ass, bowed his head, and met her lips with his, finally satiating the crippling need boiling over inside her.

  His lips were warm and soft, but his kiss was neither of those things. It was rough and desperate, like this was the only chance they had together. As the kiss deepened, he worked her sweater over her head. Cameron giggled as he threw it down on the floor and set to work on her bra, snapping it apart with a flick of his wrist.

  He backed her up until the back of her knees hit the armrest of the sofa. With a sly smile, he put a hand to her chest and pushed.

  Cameron let out a squeal as she fell backward over the armrest and landed heavily on the sofa cushions. Down there lying on her back looking up at Cole, she had the perfect front row seat of him pulling off his shirt.

  He had the kind of body no person had any right to. He was chiseled to absolute perfection, with delicious V-cut hips and swollen muscles all over the place. Veins ran along the inside of his arms, daring Cameron to trace them with her fingertips when he got closer.

  He looked down at her like he wanted to devour her.

  Cameron shimmied her leggings down. He helped her pull them off her ankles, followed by her socks, and she lay before him in nothing but her plain pair of black cotton panties.

  “Those too,” Cole said as he undid his jeans.

  Cameron lifted her ass from the sofa, pulled the panties down, and shot them like a rubber band at Cole. They hit him in the shoulder and slid off to land on the floor. He shot her a smirk, dropped his pants, and stripped out of his boxers.

  He climbed onto the sofa with her and trapped her beneath him. Cameron spread her legs so he could settle between them, and as he kissed her, all she could think about was his hard cock resting against her pussy and lower stomach. She tried to reach for him but he caught her wrist and pinned it over her head.

  She nipped at his lips playfully as he drew her other hand above her head. He held both her wrists in one strong hand so tightly that it ached.

  The ache was glorious.

  Cameron wiggled her hips, daring him to do something about their current predicament. She was horny as hell and could think of no better way to completely erase from her mind the things he’d told her over dinner than to have him deep inside her.

  Orgasms and endorphins fixed everything.

  Cole sealed his lips over hers and arched his back. His cock ran along her clit. Cameron gasped. He dropped his hips. She was so wet there was no resistance. He slid deep inside her. She moaned as his tongue slipped between her teeth and explored her mouth. He tasted like wine and sweet marinara sauce and smelled like sin incarnate.

  He looked like sin, too.

  Cole pressed her wrists deep into the sofa cushion as he straightened above her to drive himself in deeper. Right when her fingers started to go numb, he released her. She cupped her breasts, crushed them together, and moaned as he worked himself to a delicious rhythm. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her legs together, holding them at the ankles, and he leaned over her, forcing her legs back so that her thighs were crushed against her tummy and her knees were up by her chin.

  “Fuck,” he growled.

  He leaned his weight on her so he could fuck her furiously. Cameron gripped the cushion beneath her as pressure built deep below her belly. She could feel herself coming undone, and Cole sensed it too because he reached down with the heel of his hand and pressed down hard upon her clit. He massaged her until she lost control and gave into her orgasm.

  Cole growled with satisfaction, pulled back, and went flat on his belly between her thighs so he could taste her.

  Cameron sighed with pleasure as his tongue flicked over her clit. She arched her back and pressed her head against the cushions. Her neck craned so dramatically that she could see over the other armrest to the apartment windows, which were currently open.

  Off in the distance were other apartments. She could see some people in their kitchens, others studying at desks in a spare bedroom, and some watching TV.

  “Do you think people can see us?” she asked, her voice desperate and ragged.

  “Let them watch.”

  Cameron moaned.

  She’d never considered herself one for exhibitionism before, but there was something about being on display like this that made her body throb with adrenaline.

  Cole sucked her clit and pressed two fingers inside her. He found her G-spot in a matter of seconds, and as soon as his fingers pressed up against the pad, she drew a sharp intake of breath. Her entire body went tense and Cole massaged the spot gently.

  “Does that feel good, baby?” he purred.

  “Hell yes.”

  Cole applied more pressure. Cameron cried out. He fucked her hard and fast until she came again, making his fingers wet and sloppy. He flipped her over, leaving her own wetness on her hips where he gripped her, and he spanked her. Her ass jiggled and she lifted her hips from the sofa so she could wiggle her butt for him.

  He ran his fingers over her pussy and up to her ass.

  Cameron looked over her shoulder at him as he pressed a thumb to her asshole. He applied pressure. She flinched when he pushed inside her.

  “Ever had a cock in your ass, baby?”

  Cameron shook her head.

  He was gentle with her, almost teasing, but it was still a little painful.

  “I can tell,” he said huskily.

  “I don’t think I’m ready.”

  Cole left his finger in her ass as he slid his cock in her pussy. Cameron’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head, and while he fucked her pussy nice and slow, she didn’t even notice him pressing his thumb deeper in her ass.

  “Everything about you is so fucking tight,” Cole said. He leaned over her, his hips still thrusting, one hand bracing himself beside her elbow.

  She tilted her head back to gaze up at him and loved the way he looked at her. Like she was his. Like he could take her ass right then if he wanted to and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  “I won’t take it tonight,” he breathed, “but your ass is mine.”

  Cameron’s pussy tightened.

  He bucked against her, driving in deep, and she came hard and fast. A cry tore from her throat and he pushed her face down on the sofa, muffling her cries as he pulled out and came on her back while she fought for breath beneath him.

  24

  Cole

  Cole
didn’t feel right. He was dizzy. Disoriented.

  And really fucking cold.

  He gritted his teeth against a throbbing pain in his skull and tried to open his eyes. The world on the other side of his eyelids was bright—he could tell that much—but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get his eyes to open. Everything was bright and red, and even brighter lights seemed to flash before him as if taunting him for not being able to see.

  He tried to speak, but nothing came from his parted lips but a weak croak.

  His throat was dry and scratchy like he’d swallowed sandpaper. His lips were dry, too, and cracking. He could taste blood on the tip of his tongue. The copper tang and his dry mouth had him desperate for water.

  He tried to speak again, but he failed.

  So he relied on other senses.

  First, he strained his ears, trying to see if he could detect the slightest hint of sound that might tip him off as to where he was. He could hear something running, like a large industrial air-conditioning unit or an old residential furnace—something of the like. He could also hear water dripping in a steady beat,

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  It was a hollow drip, so he doubted there was much water on the ground, wherever it was. He sniffed at the air but only caught whiffs of copper and wet asphalt. It did nothing to give him any other information.

  Cole attempted to reach out and start feeling around him, and that was when the pieces began fitting together and he had some answers.

  Not good answers, but answers nonetheless.

  His hands were bound behind his back in fine rope that dug viciously into his skin. Now that he was aware of it, he could feel his own blood dripping down his wrists and slicking his palms. He tugged at the bonds, testing their strength, and found them unyielding. He hissed at the sharp pain as the rope cut deeper in and fell still.

  He was sitting up on what felt like a metal chair. His hands were bound with one arm through the back of the chair and the other on the outside so that even if he stood up he’d be attached to the chair. This didn’t make any sense to him until he tested the chair and found it bolted to the floor.