Decadence After Dark: The Complete Collection (Dark Romance box set) : Owned, Claimed, Ruined, Lie With Me, Elicit (Decadence After Dark )

by M Never

  My cock stiffens painfully from just the memory.

  I have to stop fucking doing this to myself. It’s torture. What we had is over. It was never anything to begin with. Type I fun—fun in the purest sense—and great sex.

  I clip the flower back on the top edge of my monitor and try to ignore the memory of Tara naked, spread across the black hood of my Charger, while I took her hard from behind. How she loved it, how she encouraged it; a façade of innocence with the flower in her hair.

  I learned quickly that Tara was anything but innocent. She’s the most sexually adventurous woman I have ever met. A live wire, up for anything. I’ve tried that submissive stuff Kayne and Jett are into, but it just wasn’t for me. I prefer a more active participant, and Tara definitely fit that bill. Giving me head on the H3 while we drove to the North Shore, sex in the ocean with a beach full of people, letting me fuck her any and every possible way in my hotel room the night of the wedding. And don’t get me started on her little clit ring; I can still feel it clinking against my teeth as I made her come. Still taste her sweetness as she exploded on my tongue.

  I grab my cock with desperate need. Desperate need for Tara.

  I know I have to stop thinking about her, fantasizing about her, but she seems to be woven into my every thought. It’s been six months; I should have moved on by now, but I feel like I’m stuck. Stuck on a vivacious blonde I can’t get out of my head.

  “Hey, man.” I hear Jett suddenly behind me.

  “Hey.” I clear my throat and straighten hastily in my seat.

  He leans against my desk and gazes down at me. Those perceptive turquoise eyes scrutinizing me.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” I nonchalantly adjust my junk and glance at the computer screen. “Where are the girls?”

  “Napping, finally.” Jett drops his head back. “London was up with Layla all night again.”

  “Sucks, man.” I attempt to make casual conversation. “I remember my mom complaining I didn’t sleep through the night until I started crawling.”

  “Yeah. Well, we are almost there, so here’s hoping.” Jett chuckles. “Anything going on I should know about?” He nods at the monitor.

  “Nope. All quiet on the western front.”

  “Nice. That’s what I like to hear.”

  “Don’t we all.” I fiddle with Tara’s flower distractedly.

  Jett sighs. “Why don’t you just go see her?”

  “Who?” I whip my head over at him.

  He shoots me a don’t bullshit me, brother look.

  “The owner of that flower,” he says directly.

  I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m being serious.” He’s stern.

  Not that I haven’t considered it, but what would it accomplish? Another weekend, at most, of complete and utter bliss that has a foreseeable end? A tease of happiness? No thanks. I’d rather just get past it on my own.

  “I don’t think so.” I brush him off.

  “You’ve been moping around here since Tara left.”

  “I don’t know if moping is the right word,” I grumble.

  “Yearning then? When I walked in here, you were just about to jerk off to that flower.”

  “I was not.” I glare up at him. “I was adjusting.”

  “Sure, we can call it that if it makes you feel better.” He calls bullshit.

  “Kayne would hang me off Diamond Head by my ankles if he found out I went to see her.”

  “Don’t tell him.” Jett shrugs. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he’s so wrapped up with Ellie, he won’t even notice you’re gone.”

  “That makes me feel so loved.” I bat my eyes at him sardonically.

  “If I tell you that I love you, will your balls grow back?” He puts his hand on my shoulder, messing with me.

  I smack him away and laugh. “My balls haven’t gone anywhere. Trust me. I think they’ve turned into rocks.”

  “Someone needs some pussy. Perfect reason to go see Tara. Fuck her out of your system.”

  I curl my lip. “You actually kiss London with that crass mouth?”

  “I do way more than kiss her.” Jett leers at me like he just sprouted horns. “Don’t you want to do more with your mouth than just blow hot air?” he goads me.

  I cross my arms and exhale, half envious-half conflicted; my chest muscles stiffen as I reluctantly succumb to my raging hormones. As much as I hate to admit it, Jett is right. I do need pussy, and Tara’s is definitely worth flying clear across the country for.

  “You’ll cover for me with Kayne?” I raise an eyebrow, actually considering it like a crazy man.

  “I promise he won’t have a clue,” Jett responds deviously, his eyes glittering like a pair of precious stones. I swear he gets off on fucking with Kayne.

  “Well, then . . .” I smile presumptuously. The fact this trip will be covert as well as illicit adds even more of an appeal. “I guess someone is going to New York.”

  THE COFFEE SHOP IS EXTRA busy this morning.

  It’s Friday and it seems everyone is vying for their caffeine fix all at once. I haven’t stopped serving Black Sabbath’s or Beads of Pearls all morning. Those are two of the signature blends served at one of the oldest cafes in the city. It’s what Jo Jo’s is famous for. An espresso-like dark roast and a blonde roast that rivals Starbucks.

  “Miss!” One of my customers shouts at me from across the room. “I need some more cream, please.”

  I nod, acknowledging her as I set down two cups of coffee and a chocolate chip scone to a couple heavily engaged in their cell phones. I have been working at Jo Jo’s since I started at NYU five and a half years ago. I have one semester left before I complete my M.A. in music.

  I drop my tray heavily on the service station counter getting Philly’s attention. He’s the manager and my best friend since as long as I can remember. His family owns the place so it was easy to score a job.

  “Cream, please.”

  Philly cracks a perverted smile.

  “Not that kind.” I roll my eyes. And I don’t think the lady at table six would appreciate any practical jokes. He glances over at the woman sitting by the window. She’s dressed casually but impeccably and has yet to reveal any capability of emotion. If I had to guess, her facial muscles have been Botoxed into submission.

  I see the type all the time. Jo Jo’s is right on the border of midtown and uptown, so we get a variety of customers.

  “One extra cream,” Philly places a small bowl with creamers on my tray. “And one Assassin.”

  “‘Bout time. I was starting to wonder if you were sleeping back there.”

  “Ha-ha. You try keeping up with the morning rush minus one barista, who is totally fired by the way.”

  “Yeah.” I curl my lip pretending to feel sorry for him. “That’s why I work on this side of the counter. Less stress, better tips.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He swipes his towel at me. “I can always promote you and force you to work back here with me.”

  “You could,” I sing, lifting the tray. “But you won’t. Remember what happened in high school when we tried to work the kissing booth together?”

  “Yes.” He grimaces. “All the guys wanted to kiss you and not me.”

  “My lips are poutier.” I make a fish face before I head back into the insanity.

  You know that saying all the good ones are gay? It’s totally true. Phillipo De Blasio is tall, hot, and one hundred percent homo. Not even a little bi because if he were, I would have been all over him years ago. But alas, lady bits just don’t do it for him. It’s a total bummer . . . for the entire female race.

  By the time the morning rush is over, I’m spinning in circles. The line at the register has died down and most of the tables are clear now. I almost consider plopping down on one of the sofas, but Philly frowns upon the workers looking lazy, which means break time is taken in the back. He’s so militant, and I tell him so.

/>   “Excuse me?” I hear someone clear their throat from behind me as I sluggishly wipe down a table. “Is this seat taken?”

  “No,” I turn around so the customer can sit and look straight into a pair of impish brown eyes. I freeze, stunned.

  CJ smiles at me, and I forget how to use all basic motor function. I think it’s more from shock than anything else. We haven’t spoken in six months. Not since Kayne and Ellie’s wedding—not since the amazing four days we spent together after the wedding. A reel of explicit images and a rash of sensations hit me all at once.

  CJ’s smile dims, and his eyebrows crease. “Not happy to see me?”

  Not happy? “Oh, no! Of course, I am. You just surprised me.” A smile bubbling with elation spreads across my face. CJ seems to relax instantly. “What are you doing here?”

  “I needed a cup of coffee.” He puts his hands on my hips, and yup, that’s all it takes. I liquefy. I have missed those hands touching me. I’ve tried not to think about him, but now that he’s here, I have to stop myself from dragging him into the back and showing him where else I would like him to put them.

  “You came all the way to New York for a cup of coffee?” I try to keep my composure and flirt all at the same time.

  “And business.”

  “Oh.” I brush some hair out of my eyes. I know I look like a hot mess right now. I’ve been running around ragged for close to three hours, and I’m pretty sure my appearance proves that. Meanwhile, CJ looks delicious in dark jeans and a gray hoodie.

  “I was hoping we could catch up and maybe have dinner . . . tonight? While I’m in town.” He grips my hips a little tighter.

  “Tonight?” I frown.

  “You’re busy?” His expression deflates.

  “I am.”

  “Washing your hair?” he jokes.

  “No.” I nudge him. “It’s my father’s birthday. I already have dinner plans.”

  “Bummer.” He releases me, and I actually sag in disappointment.

  “How long are you in town for?”

  CJ seems to ponder this before answering. “Till Sunday night. Think you can squeeze me in?”

  “I think so.” I step closer to him and run my hands down his chest. “If you don’t mind a late drink, I can squeeze you in tonight.”

  CJ’s eyes twinkle, and it’s not just from the sun shining through the front window. “I think.” He drops his mouth to my ear. “I don’t mind waiting if it means I get to spend time with you, shortcake.”

  I gaze at him with a seductive smirk. The term of endearment makes me tingle. “It’s done then.”

  “Sounds good.” He kisses my cheek before he lifts his head. “I’m staying at the Towers at New York Palace. There’s a lounge in the lobby.”

  “The Towers? Fancy.”

  CJ winks at me. “I like the view.”

  I idly wonder if I’ll get to see it. I seriously hope so.

  “I’ll text you my number.” He pulls his hood up. “And see you tonight.” He flashes me a sexy smile. With that, he leaves. I watch mutely as he walks out the door and disappears into the pedestrian traffic crowding the sidewalk. My whole body is on fire—my skin, my cheeks, my thighs.

  I had moved on from CJ, or at least told myself that I had. We both agreed the time we spent together was purely physical. A carefree few days where we indulged in each other and then walked away. Which is exactly what happened. When the time came for me to return to New York, we said good-bye and I got on the plane. But seeing him this morning, the memory of being together feels as if it never settled in the past. Like we were together just yesterday and the attraction is still as fiery as ever.

  “Tara?” Philly calls my name. “Hello.” He waves his hand in front of my face. “Earth to blondie.”

  “Huh?” I look up at him dazed.

  “Who the hell was that? And did he stun you or something?”

  “Stun me? In a way,” I huff. “And that was CJ.”

  Philly’s jaw drops. “The hottie from Hawaii?”

  “The one and the same.”

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “He wanted coffee.” I laugh.

  “Seriously?” Philly puts his hand on his hip dubiously.

  “That, and dinner.”

  “‘Dinner’?” He uses air quotes to insinuate something else.

  “If I’m ‘lucky.’“ I also use air quotes.

  “When don’t you get ‘lucky’?” He jabs at me.

  “Are you implying something?”

  “Yes. If the shoe fits, sluterella.”

  “I thought we were friends?” I pretend to sound offended.

  “We are. Real friends tell it like it is.”

  “I like sex. What’s wrong with that?” I argue.

  Philly looks at me petulantly. “Nino would say nothing.”

  “Nino has nothing to do with this.” I bristle.

  “Tell him that.”

  “I will.”

  “Brave girl.”

  I NONCHALANTLY WALK OUT THE coffee shop, knowing Tara is watching me. I shove my hands into my pockets and drop my head, trying my damnedest not to let her see the excitement on my face.

  Fuck, I forgot how cold New York is in December. I’m freezing my balls off even with a layer of ColdGear and a hoodie.

  Tonight seems like a world away. I know I shouldn’t expect anything, but I can’t stop the anticipation. I’m so hard up for her; I need to go jerk off just from the brief contact we shared in the coffee shop. All I kept picturing were her legs wrapped around me—my hips and my head. Jesus, she makes me as horny as a teenager. I need to get a grip and figure out how not to think about her every second for the rest of the day. I finally hail a cab a few blocks down from Jo Jo’s. We barely pull out onto the street when my phone rings. My stomach actually drops. The last person on earth I want to talk to is Kayne, and every time I get a call, my palms actually sweat. If he finds out why I’m here, I’m dead. Plain and simple. He will kill me slowly and painfully and then bury my body somewhere no one will ever find it. I am positive of this. The only two people supportive of me spending time with Tara are Ellie and, obviously, Jett. We didn’t flash the fact we were sleeping together in Hawaii, but it was clear to everyone there was an attraction. It’s not like being with Tara is simple. There are factors working against us. Mainly the age difference. Ten years. Geography doesn’t help, either. We live on opposite sides of the country. She’s still in college, and I work for an independent contractor who takes the law into its own hands. She has no idea who I really am or what I really do.

  I didn’t take sleeping with her lightly, either. I never planned to let it happen, especially when I had both Kayne and her father shooting me death rays every time I looked in her direction. But Tara pursued me, and I could only ignore what I was feeling for so long. She may be young, but she knows what she wants, and she wanted me. I didn’t realize spending time with her was going to have such a lasting effect. But it has. Hopefully, by the end of this weekend, I’ll finally be able to snuff out the flames of desire and—as Jett said—fuck her out of my system once and for all.

  “Hello?” I answer the unknown caller.

  “You come in to my city and don’t even let me know.” A raspy voice comes through on the other end.

  I smile. “I had some business to take care of first. Besides, I never know which city is yours at any given moment. I know better than to keep tabs on you.”

  “You were always smart.” One of my oldest friends chuckles on the other end of the line. “By the way, your business is cute.”

  I look out the window immediately. “Where are you?”

  “Around.”

  “Close enough to spy on me?”

  “That’s what I do. That’s what we both do.”

  I wonder how long Slade watched me stalking the outside of Jo Jo’s this morning. I watched Tara for nearly two hours, waiting for the perfect moment to approach her.

  “Towers Hotel. Room 36
3,” I tell him.

  “I already know. See you in twenty.” Then the line goes dead.

  I OPEN THE DOOR TO a man dressed in all black. Black sweatshirt, black jeans, and a black baseball cap.

  He tilts his head up and smiles, allowing me a glimpse of his cunning hazel eyes. The left one slashed with a long, deep scar.

  I step aside so Slade can enter. We clasp hands like the old friends we are and get comfortable in the living room of my sky-top suite.

  “Drink?”

  “Of course. The good stuff.” He sits down on the couch. I pour two shots of scotch and take a seat next to him. We clink glasses then down the brown liquid. We both know it’s meant to be sipped, but where Slade and I stem from, we live by a motto: Enjoy it fast and while you got it. You never know if and when you’ll get it again.

  “So you going to tell me why you’re in New York?” I ask as I get up to pour another drink. This time on the rocks.

  “Working a cold case. Missing girl. Parents can’t let it go. They hired me a few weeks ago.”

  “Ooo, tough.”

  “Yeah, poor people.”

  “How long has she been missing?” I hand Slade his glass.

  “About a year now.” He swirls his drink.

  “Any new leads?”

  “None. She seemed pretty clean-cut. Good grades, no drugs.”

  “Think she got snatched up by traffickers?” I ask after I swallow a mouthful of scotch.

  “Man, I really fucking hope not.” He takes a slow, calculated sip.

  “Well, if anyone can find her, you can. You’re like a fucking bloodhound.”

  “I’ve got all my contacts looking into it, but I can always use another set of ears, eyes, and hands. Interested?”

  “Is that why you reached out?” I raise my eyebrows, not completely surprised.

  “Not the only reason but, yes, partly because I would like your help.”