by Lizbeth Day
The man hadn’t spoken a word during the ride. He climbed out the back seat as the elevator opened. The doors shut right behind him. Denver got a quick glimpse of a black coat, but not much else.
Time to go home. She whipped out the instructions again to reread. The final order was to leave the car where she’d found it. No problem.
She had almost made it to the exit ramp of the underground garage when the damn phone rang. I might have to get rid of this thing, she said to herself. “Yes?”
“Change of plans, Kitten. Park the car in any spot and come upstairs to the west penthouse.” Click.
Denver rolled her eyes. The penthouse. Ok, he had a guest; he wouldn’t do what he did last night with somebody there, right?
She laughed out loud and turned the car around. Aaron Maddox fingered a woman in the middle of the street. If he could do that in the open, it would be no holds barred behind closed doors. Anything could happen. Anything.
Part of Denver was down for whatever. She’d been a hungry woman until last night, and only some of her desire had been satiated. Oh yes, she could do for some more, thank-you-very-much-sir.
But Aaron had dominated her last night, hell, he’d been the boss all day today. Irritating, yes. But the way he’d taken command… well that shit had stroked her the right way too. And last night he’d brought her to a cliff she didn’t know had been there. Could she handle more?
She pondered this on the short walk back to the elevator bank. Denver looked at her reflection in the gold doors. What should she do? Play along or resist?
No doubt Aaron had an agenda. But Denver had her own end game in mind.
So fuck it. Time to play.
THREE
The plan, get off the elevator early and snoop around. But nope, the darn thing shot straight up to the top floor.
Denver stepped out onto a plush, gold-tinged carpet. Two sets of ebony doors faced each other on either side of a long hall. A sign pointed to the west penthouse. She surveyed the area. No visible cameras, which meant there was likely fifty out of sight.
The air smelled sweet, clean. Like a field of daisies after a spring rain. Where the hell was she?
Her boots sank into the carpet as she crossed warily toward the west penthouse. Ebony double doors within a burnished gold frame greeted her. They made a foreboding welcome.
Just as she raised a hand to knock, the door opened. Three women sauntered by. One resembled a demure but sexy librarian in a push-up bra. The second, sported a short green dress so tight, Denver saw her thoughts. The final one hadn’t bothered with clothes at all. She passed by while buttoning up a white trench coat over her nakedness.
Behind them, Aaron Maddox stepped into the doorway. He pushed the door open wider and smiled. “Welcome.”
The place between her legs tightened at the sight of him. Aaron had on a black button down shirt again, but paired with dark gray dress slacks this time. Denver said nothing as she moved past him. The room beyond was a living area with couches, bar, fireplace and a terrace out beyond.
She nodded at the women walking to the elevator. “I am not a prostitute. You should call them back if that’s what you have in mind.”
“Relax,” Aaron said while closing the door, “I’m entertaining, and I misjudged my guest’s preferences for the evening.”
“So what does that have to do with me?”
Again, he flashed that half-smile that made her want to punch him. “Come have a drink, Denver.”
She didn’t move. “You didn’t answer my question. What do your guest’s preferences have to do with me?”
Aaron walked behind the bar. “He asked for you. Want something with bite or something sweet?”
“You mean the guy, I dropped off? He saw me for a split second.” Denver stayed rooted to the spot and folded her arms. More games. What did he have in mind?
Aaron shrugged. “Apparently a split second was enough. He took one look at what I had lined up, quite a cornucopia mind you, and requested you.”
The terrace door opened just then. The white curtains billowed with a breeze too warm for the season. A man moved past the drapery holding a tumbler. “Don’t worry,” he said, “Aaron tends to make things more ominous than they truly are.”
The man rivaled Aaron’s height, maybe around six feet. He’d pulled the burgundy shirt he wore out of black dress slacks. The first few buttons were open revealing a wisp of dark hair.
He approached with a hand held out. “Hello, my name is—”
“—Uh,” Aaron interrupted exchanging a look with the man, “You can call him X.”
Denver reached for the door. “No way. Dealing with you is one thing, but I’m not being cooped up in some place I can’t identify with a man you don’t want to name. I’m out.”
The man put the tumbler down on a glass coffee table. “No, no, wait,” he said smiling, “Call me Rock. How’s that? My friends call me that.” He approached Denver palms up as if she was a trapped animal he wanted to console.
She said, “That still doesn’t tell me who you are.”
Ice cubes clinked into a glass. Though Aaron hands worked beneath the bar, he locked eyes with Denver.
The approaching man drew her attention back to him. When Rock was about a foot away, he held out his hand. Up close, Denver couldn’t name his nationality. Eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea gazed out of face that didn’t seem tan, but a beautiful light bronze. Rock said, “We’re old school chums, that’s all.”
Aaron smirked. “Yeah, he must like you, because I wouldn’t have admitted that much. But it’s true, we attended school together.”
Denver took the proffered hand. It was warm, but slightly callused, as if he was a man who had known hard work at some point.
Rock said, “I’m in town for a short while and I just wanted some normal company. Aaron’s a bore sometimes, and you looked like a woman capable of having an authentic conversation.”
Rock’s scent was spicy, like something you’d find in an exotic outdoor bazaar. He changed the grip on Denver’s hand as if he meant to kiss it. “Will you join us?” He gently rubbed a thumb over her knuckles.
Maybe it was the cologne, or the blue eyes, of the bit of exposed chest, but the vibe that came off the man was intoxicating. It lapped over her like a warm and sultry wave. Denver felt a little woozy as if his closeness gave her a contact high. If that school chum nonsense was true, what freaking school taught them to exude pure raw sex? Aaron had the same pull on her.
Her heart thumped once—hard—as if to warn Denver she approached a point of no return.
As if sensing her near building panic, Aaron appeared at Rock’s shoulder. “All right, down boy, don’t overwhelm her with all that foreign charm. We’ll meet you on the terrace.”
Rock held Denver’s eyes for another second before letting of her hand. Aaron stayed silent until the terrace door’s shut behind his friend.
Aaron leaned over Denver. “Listen, I can see the panic in your eyes. But your body told me something else last night.” He gripped her upper arm, firm but not too tightly. “Play with us and I’ll put a number on the favors you owe me.”
That snapped Denver back to her senses. “You’ll give me the video?”
He shrugged, noncommittal. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let us say you’ll be at my beck and call more than ten but less than twenty times.”
“You’re insane. Three, including two for today.”
“No way. Fifteen.”
“Five,” she countered. “And what do you mean by play with us?”
Aaron leaned over and nuzzled her neck. “Oh, you know. Games. Rock likes to set terms. Don’t worry, he plays fair, better than me. You’ve had a taste of how I like to play, Kitten.” His lips brushed across her skin.
Denver resisted a shiver and pulled back enough to stare at him.
He pouted. “Ok, you’re tough and I’m feeling generous. Ten favors from you, and today counts as one.”
&nbs
p; Denver shook her head. “Seven. Plus the original of the video.”
“Seven, and I’ll consider giving you the video.” Aaron countered his mouth set in a firm line.
This time, it was Denver who frowned. The terms weren’t ideal. “Agreed. But I’m not doing anything I don’t want to with you and your friend.”
Aaron stepped back. “I think that still leaves many things on the table, Denver. No one has challenged you in a long time, if ever, and you’re hungry.” His voice dropped to level meant to taunt her. “Did you like the way I made you cum so hard your legs shook?”
“You are an arrogant dick, Maddox.” Denver spit out. Aaron held a tumbler in one hand. She shoved past him while snatching the drink from his hand. “If you didn’t have that video, you would never get someone like me. A woman who’s real. Why do you think your friend wanted an evening with me and not some high priced call girl, huh? When is the last time a woman didn’t use you for your money or as a cheap sex toy cuz she needed to nut?”
She watched the words land on Maddox. The motion was slight, but he flinched. Then, much like the night before, a mask dropped into place that rendered his expression impassive.
It looked like a practiced poker face. Good. That meant she’d gotten to him. Denver spun around and strutted towards the terrace. Aaron had spoken the truth about her. She gripped the glass to still the tremble in her fingers. Yeah, so what if Aaron had struck a nerve? She had too. Now she would use the rest of the night to prove Maddox didn’t hold all the cards.
She crossed the threshold and was met by a gust of warm air. Huh, a heated terrace. The night’s air should’ve been chill, but artfully placed vents made the outside almost balmy. The balcony was large enough to host a party of thirty people. Black couches, tables, and potted bushes decorated the space.
Denver had never been one to stop to admire a beautiful landscape. Usually she was too preoccupied with taking care of the business at hand. But the sparkling lights of the city’s skyline made her pause. They were mesmerizing.
Yet the fantastic view also allowed her to pick out landmarks and get her bearings. This had to be the Smithson building. Aaron’s company had just completed renovating it. The official city records claimed the building offered luxury living. However, the District Attorney’s office suspected it was a secure location where local nefarious elements could entertain and do business unmolested.
This was the last place she should be. Or, perhaps it presented an opportunity.
The man staring out at those same lights gave her pause too. One side of his shirt flapped in the breeze, and as Rock turned, a glint of silver drew Denver’s eye.
“Hello. You and Aaron figure everything out?” He picked up a wine glass from a nearby table.
She crossed to the railing. “For now. I don’t think things are ever really figured out with him.”
“Oh, I know.” He glanced back through the glass doors into the apartment. “Aaron is complex. But from his expression, looks like you pissed him off a wee bit.”
“Good. What’s he doing?”
“Mixing another drink I think.”
Denver sipped from the glass she’d snatched from Aaron. He’d chosen a sweet drink, it tasted like pears. She said, “So, Rock, are you some international criminal or something? If so, it’s best for me to leave.”
He laughed under his breath then faced her. “No, I’m not a criminal or something.”
Denver waited for him to volunteer more information but eventually figured out no more was forthcoming. Finally she prompted, “Did Aaron tell you about me?”
“A few key items.” Again he fell silent. Denver ignored a wave of unease. She didn’t like the idea of Aaron sharing intimate details about her life, or body for that matter.
“So,” she said, “Aaron mentioned you like games. What do you want to play?”
The blue eyes searched her face. The terrace door opened, but neither of them bothered to glance back at their host.
Finally, he answered. “Let’s talk, Denver. Why don’t you start with how you got that name.”
Aaron flopped into a cushioned chair. “Be prepared. The answer is droll.”
She cast a sidelong glance at Aaron. He watched her over the rim of his glass as he took a long pull.
Huh. Aaron wanted to be a brat. No problem. Denver took Rock’s arm and led him to one of the double sized lounge chairs. “I didn’t bother to tell him the full story. But I’ll tell you, Rock.”
They sat. Rock listened only to interrupt to ask for clarity. Denver’s story about her parents meeting turned into a longer, and to her surprise, entertaining hour-long conversation about things from relationships to politics to world travel.
Aaron chimed in every once in a while. Though it took about a half hour before his remarks stopped being snarky. Denver took pleasure in ignoring him as much as possible.
She tossed her hair back, laughed at something Rock said, and could almost feel Aaron’s eyes burning her skin. Denver relished being in control despite knowing this was only a temporary respite.
Rock cleared his throat. “Let’s play a game.”
Denver had chased back three drinks by this time. She sobered a bit at his quick change of conversation.
“Don’t be startled, dear. We’ve gotten to know each other a bit. I like you so I’ll make the game simple.”
Aaron straightened in his chair. Denver wasn’t sure if that signaled his interest or alarm. Either way, she would see this through to the end.
“Are you ready, Denver?” Rock brought her back to the present.
“What’s the name of this game?”
Rock grinned. “I hadn’t thought of a name. Let’s call it—kiss, bite, lick.”
Aaron scoffed but said, “I’m in. Rules?”
The other man put his wine glass down on a nearby table. It clinked against the table top. Rock pulled a deck of playing cards from his pants pocket. The back of the cards were ebony like the sky of a stormy night.
Denver watched as Rock split the deck then shuffled. The cards cracked like tiny whips as he manipulated the deck. He spread them face side up on the table.
“This an ordinary deck as you can see.” He picked them up again and shuffled, splitting and rolling the deck several times like a professional. Rock flicked up a single card between his first and second fingers. “Rules are simple. We each draw a card. Whoever has the highest gets to request a kiss, a bite, or a lick.”
Denver quipped. “I think I played something like this in Timmy Garner’s basement when I was twelve.”
“Timmy Garner was a lucky boy.” Rock returned the card to the deck and shuffled again.
“The night ended when I punched him in the face,” she said. “He got a little too touchy for my taste.”
“Consider me officially warned,” Rock answered. “Do you both agree to the rules?”
Aaron downed the last of the rum he’d been nursing for the night. “Yeah, I’m in.”
They both turned to Denver.
She swallowed the last of her drink. “I’m in but only if I deal.”
Aaron and Rock burst out in laughter. Rock said, “She’s a smart girl. I like that. Here you go.”
Denver took the deck and gave it an awkward shuffle. She put three cards face down on the table. “Ok, flip ‘em.”
Aaron landed a three, Rock got an eight, and Denver lucked out.
She clapped her hands. “A ten, look at that. Now what?”
“You tell one of us losers to kiss, lick, or bite.” Rock replied leveling his eyes on her.
Denver noticed, he didn’t say who had to be the receiver and who the giver.
She wondered if either of the two men went both ways. Would they? The idea tempted her, but the idea to toy with Aaron was too great. Was it worth it to risk his wrath?
Fuck it.
“Kiss me, Rock,” she demanded, and he didn’t hesitate.
He shifted over on the lounge chair until their upper t
highs touched. Rock leaned over, cupping the back of Denver’s neck.
She let him pull her closer. His lips brushed hers, a soft peck. Then his mouth settled over Denver’s. At first, it was gentle. Rock wrapped his other arm around Denver’s waist and closed the last bit of distance between their bodies.
Through her t-shirt, she could feel the firmness of his chest and the heat seeping through the unbuttoned shirt. His lips parted and Rock’s tongue sensually circled hers. He tasted like the red grapes of the wine mixed with a subtle hint of other fruits. She let herself fall into the kiss, let herself sink into his embrace.
When they parted, Denver felt like she’d been submerged. Or transported. For an instant, it had been only her mouth and his. She opened her eyes and stared at Rock anew. What the hell was that?
She didn’t know what had just happened, but she wanted more.
Rock scooted over to give her some room. He didn’t return her stare but refilled his wine glass. “Mmm. Interesting.”
“Yes,” Aaron said, “that was something.”
Aaron. In that split-second, she’d almost forgotten about him. But the side of her body that faced him was warm, inflamed almost. No doubt, he’d been staring daggers at them.
How far was she willing to take the game? What would he do to her later?
She returned the dealt cards back to the deck. “Gentlemen, ready for another round?”
“Yes, I think you should deal me a winning hand this time.” Aaron’s voice rumbled, controlled but low.
Denver flashed him a wicked smile. “Come now, Maddox. Hard not being on top?”
The look he gave her wasn’t friendly. “I’ll give you hard in a moment.”
“No, no, no,” she stopped shuffling the deck, “only if the cards say you can. And let’s see what they say now.”
Rock laughed, “Aaron, this is just a little sport. Mind your temper, eh? I’m sure we’ll all have a go.”
She wasn’t sure what Rock meant by have a go. But his lilting accent made it sound wickedly pleasurable.