A Gentleman in the Street

by Alisha Rai

  His lips compressed. “You know what, why don’t you let me make that decision?”

  “Because somehow I’ve ended up liking you,” she said gently.

  His mouth opened. “I…like you too. That’s all the more reason for us to—”

  “I like you too much to fuck with you. So, no.” She injected every ounce of finality she could into her voice. “I’m sorry. But no. Please unlock the door.”

  He blinked. Looked down at his console and disengaged the lock. “You know what I think?”

  There was such coldness in his voice, she paused in opening her door. “I don’t care.”

  “I’ll tell you anyway. I believe you’re running scared.’’

  She stilled, her back to him, before slowly coming to her feet, hand resting on the door. “I’ve destroyed men who have dared to call me a coward, darling.”

  “Yeah? I’d rather you destroy me than shut me out for my own good. We’re not done, Akira.” His smile flashed. She could have frozen him out if it had been a threat, but she was unable to respond to that seductive promise. She closed the door on his final words. “You owe me one more night.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The black envelope came at noon the next day. Jacob murmured his thanks to the private courier who handed it to him and closed his front door, turning the mysterious card over in his hand.

  Made of thick vellum, it was heavy and slick, the paper too glossy to be from anything but a specialty stationery store.

  He inserted his finger under the flap and opened it as he walked back to his kitchen. Tossing the envelope on the counter, he peered at the words printed in embossed gold font on the single-page invitation.

  It stated only today’s date and a time, seven p.m. Certain he was missing something given his bleary, sleep-deprived eyes, Jacob flipped the single page over, but there was nothing else there.

  There could only be one person behind this. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he had stolen off his sister’s phone weeks ago.

  It was answered on the first ring. “Yes.”

  Tenderness, irritation, and annoyance warred within him at the sound of her voice. Since she hadn’t bothered with pleasantries, he didn’t either. “What is this?”

  A pause. “What is what?”

  He didn’t buy her light response. “This card I got. What is it?”

  “How did you know I sent it?”

  Because it was very much in her style. Bold. Dramatic.

  Confusing as hell. “Kati likes to tell me I don’t have many friends. The list of potential senders wasn’t long.”

  “Hmm. Maybe you should try being more charming.”

  He resisted amusement. “What is it, Akira?”

  She paused, as if gauging his tone. “It’s an invitation.”

  “An invitation to what?”

  Another pause before she spoke, the words uttered in a soft purr which reached through the phone and stroked up his spine. “You said you’ve heard of my house parties.”

  He almost bit his tongue. His heart stopped before starting up again, clipping away at a too-fast rate. “I have.”

  “Then you have your explanation.”

  He stared at the date on the thick stock paper. “Tonight?”

  “That’s what the date says.”

  He hesitated. “The things I’ve heard…are they accurate?”

  “What have you heard, Jacob?”

  He glanced around, but the house was silent. He was alone. They were alone. “That you sponsor orgies.”

  “Sponsor,” she repeated slowly. “Like one sponsors a marathon runner. Or a starving child.”

  “Host, then.”

  “Yes, Jacob. This is one of the orgies I host.”

  She was cool and calm, but he had seen so many of her moods over the past week and a half, he couldn’t quite buy the act. He tapped the invitation on the counter. “What changed your mind?”

  “Maybe you’re not the only one who’s obsessed.” Before he could process that bombshell, she continued. “You wanted your last night. You’re getting it.” She paused, and he could picture the smirk on her face. “You can come tonight or not at all.”

  A power play. If he didn’t go, he would sacrifice his last night with her. If he did go, he would be throwing himself into the deep end of the pool, as Ben had called it.

  She didn’t play around.

  He smiled, and he didn’t need a mirror to know it wasn’t a friendly one. Well, hell. Neither did he. “Is this a test? You think I won’t call your bluff?”

  “I’m hoping you will.”

  Maybe she was. She probably thought he would…what? See something kinky and slink away so he could go nurse his hang-ups?

  He allowed himself to imagine being there, with her. Heat rushed through him. Nope. No shame. No guilt. Those emotions had left him paralyzed for far too long. It was time to fucking live his life.

  But that didn’t mean he could forget the people who depended on him. “Hang on one second.”

  Switching lines, he called Ben. His brother picked up on the second ring. “Manscapers.”

  Jacob’s eye twitched. God, he hated the name of their business. “I need you to stay with Kati tonight.” His words tumbled over each other.

  “Uh…why?”

  “You know how you and Connor were talking about clearing my plate for me? I need you to do that. Come over and spend the night. One of you. Both of you. I don’t care.”

  “Okay,” Ben said slowly. “Sure. No problem.”

  “Great. I have to leave at six. Kati and her boyfriend will be here about eight. Her bedroom door needs to be open, and don’t let the boy stay past her curfew. Lights out at eleven.”

  “Wait, what boyfrie—?”

  “Bye.” Jacob switched lines. “Hey.”

  “Generally when I invite guests to orgies, they don’t put me on hold.”

  “Generally when you invite guests to orgies, they probably don’t need to procure a babysitter for the night.”

  She clucked her tongue, suddenly sounding more like the woman who had sat across from him in her office for the past couple of weeks, and less the femme fatale. “You’re getting a seventeen-year-old a babysitter? Ugh. Give that kid a break.”

  “Her new boyfriend’s coming over to study. There’s a reasonable amount of freedom, and then there’s being a wholly irresponsible guardian, and I’m not the latter.” A swell of relief sank over him at the accuracy of the words, the truth in them. “I’m not.”

  She was silent for a moment, her words quiet when she spoke. “No, you’re not.”

  Jacob took a deep breath. “And to answer your question, yes. I’ll be there tonight.”

  She cleared her throat. “Good. That’s…great.”

  “I’m not so easily scared off,” he told her gently. “I can see why you might think that, but you don’t know what’s in my brain. In my fantasies.”

  “In those fantasies of yours,” she asked with devastating bluntness, “do you fuck in front of other people? Because that’s what tonight entails.”

  His chest expanded. He stared at the invitation until the embossed lettering blurred. “Would it be you?”

  Silence. “Would it be me what?”

  “Would it be you I would be…?” He trailed off. Not because he was ashamed of the word, but because he might combust if he allowed himself to complete the thought.

  She whispered the directive to him, like the devil on his shoulder she was. “Say it.”

  He breathed the word. “Fucking.”

  Her husky reply told him he wasn’t the only one affected. “Maybe. Or maybe it would be others. Or maybe it would be me and others.”

  “Any of it.” He closed his eyes. “I want all of it. And none of it will change the way I think of you.”

  “Come to my party,” she finally replied. “And we’ll see what thoughts you have left by morning.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ja
cob pulled up outside Akira’s mansion a little before seven that night. The winding driveway along the side of the home was already filled with luxury cars, his Toyota looking sadly practical amidst the glitz. In all the years he had lived in this city, he had never been to Billionaires Row quite so many times in the space of a couple weeks.

  A valet came jogging up to his car the second he placed it in park and opened his door. “Sir.”

  “Thanks.” He handed the other man his keys and got out, stomach jumping.

  It wasn’t the wealth he was intimidated by. Thanks to Akira’s mother, he had hovered on the fringes of wealthy society for most of his adult life. It didn’t matter how many bedrooms or libraries or kitchens Akira had in this palatial home. It didn’t matter that there was an incredibly long driveway along the side of the house or a five car garage visible from the street, tucked under the house—in a city where a single reserved parking spot could be sold for a premium price, that was pretty much the height of luxury.

  No, what had his palms sweating was what lay on the other side of that door.

  Talk about the deep end.

  Jacob’s shoulders squared. You wanted this. You want her. Let her see what you’re really like.

  He strode up the pathway to the front door, but it opened before he could knock. Jacob lowered his fist, faced with a small elderly man decked out in a full suit. With tails and everything. Had Akira found this guy rattling around in a European castle somewhere? “Good evening, sir,” he intoned.

  The murderer. That’s who Jacob would cast this guy as. Predictable, perhaps, but his stern visage and perfectly pressed appearance didn’t really permit anything else. Jacob cleared his throat, realizing he had been eyeing the man for far too long. “Hello, I’m…”

  “Mr. Campbell. We have been expecting you.” The little man stepped aside, his bald head gleaming.

  Definitely the killer. He’d take care of unwitting guests with a slow-acting poison. In the library, which Jacob knew from his past visit was delightfully soundproofed.

  Quit being weird. “Thank you.” He stepped inside the massive foyer. If Akira’s office was elegant, understated wealth, here she had gone for ostentatious, in-your-face filthy money. The chandelier hanging from the high ceiling dripped crystal, twin stairways spiraling up to the second floor. Paintings in ornate gold frames lined the hallways leading away from the foyer.

  It was loud and unapologetic and brash, without a hint of subdued elegance. It suited Akira.

  “You had no trouble finding the place, sir?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “I suppose not. You have been here before, have you not?”

  “Yes. Ah, last week.”

  “Of course. And then that time when you were skulking about in the middle of the night.”

  Jacob turned slowly and eyed the older man, who stared back at him impassively. Still, Jacob made a mental note to watch his back. And sniff his drinks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Harris.” The man gave a little bow.

  “You’re Akira’s butler?”

  “Her butler, her valet, her security, if the police need to be called.” A thin smile emerged. “You understand.”

  “Yeah. I think I do. Rest assured, my nocturnal skulking days are over.”

  “I’m sure we’re both pleased to hear that. May I take your coat, sir?”

  “Sure. Yes.” He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to the man. He had been unsure what to wear to this, so he’d opted for a suit, without the tie. Googling what to wear to an orgy had resulted in little assistance. Many interesting images. Little assistance.

  Harris draped the jacket over his arm. “I do welcome you, of course, on behalf of Ms. Mori. Since this is your first time attending one of Ms. Mori’s gatherings, I thought I would take the liberty of going over some general guidelines.”

  Mystified, Jacob dipped his head. “Okay.”

  “Alcohol will be served tonight. We hope you drink responsibly, but you will be cut off if you appear, in Ms. Mori or the staff’s discretion, overly intoxicated. We require all guests when leaving to submit to a Breathalyzer test before retrieving their car. If you choose not to submit to the test, or if you are incompetent to drive, Ms. Akira will be happy to ensure you get home safely in her personal car.” Harris spoke as if he had recited this particular speech a hundred times.

  Jacob wanted to smile, but the seriousness of Harris’s demeanor told him it wouldn’t be appreciated. “That’s reasonable.”

  “Wonderful.” Harris cleared his throat. “The safe word this evening is ‘spy’. If any guest so much as utters it, the expectation is that all parties shall immediately cease their actions. This is a hard-and-fast rule—Ms. Akira demands consent from all parties at all times. Anything less is unacceptable.”

  From a ride home to safe words. Where was he?

  Oh yeah. At an orgy.

  Spy. Had Akira picked that one? A nod to him?

  “Ahem.”

  Realizing Harris was awaiting his reply, he snapped to attention. “Yes. Certainly.”

  The butler gave him an arch look, unimpressed with him. “If you have any hard limits, you ought to make them clear. Everyone here is accustomed to frank speaking. Do you understand?”

  “Hard…limits? Like, pain, you mean?”

  “If you like.” Harris smoothed Jacob’s coat. “We normally test guests for any sexually transmitted diseases prior to their attendance, but Ms. Akira informed me we were making a special exception for you.” The butler pursed his lips, clearly unhappy with this directive. “Regardless, all guests are required to wear protection. If there is something you wish to have but do not see, simply ask, and someone will provide it for you. The only exception to this rule is if you and your partner or partners agree to forgo protection. That’s generally only done by those guests in a relationship.”

  Jacob nodded. “Sounds fair.”

  “You are not in a committed relationship?”

  A certain hostess flashed in front of his mind. “No.”

  Harris rocked back on his heels. “Finally, and this goes without saying, but Ms. Mori does require absolute secrecy regarding any events that transpire over the course of the evening.”

  “Not going to make me sign a nondisclosure agreement?” He was half-joking.

  “Unnecessary.” Harris’s grin was hard but tinged with pride. “Would you cross Ms. Mori?”

  “I already have.” Jacob rubbed his neck. “It wasn’t an enjoyable experience.”

  “Then you’ll know better than to do it again.” Harris pinned him with a stern glare. “This is not part of my usual spiel. If I ever see you skulking around this house in the middle of the night, I or an associate will shoot first and ask questions later.”

  No. Not a poison. A gun, a quick and clean shot to the head. At the edge of a cliff, so cleanup would be painless. That’s what this man would use.

  He should be offended, but oddly he wasn’t. He had spent years considering Akira to be a solitary creature, so it was good to see the depth of this man’s loyalty. Akira needed a pit bull in her corner. Preferably, many pit bulls. “Understood,” he responded.

  “Excellent,” Harris said, brisk and professional now. “I will show you up to the salon so you may join the other guests.”

  “That’s unnecessary, Harris. I can take Mr. Campbell everywhere he would like to go tonight.”

  At the dulcet tones, his attention shifted to the woman standing midway down the stairs. He struggled not to gawk, but he was certain it was a wasted effort. Akira regularly took his breath away wearing those damn pencil skirts. This was…beyond anything he could have imagined.

  She wore a dress tonight, but one he’d never seen a woman wear in public. The orange corset-like top cinched her waist so it was tiny enough he could probably span it with two hands. Red and orange swirled together in her long skirt, which draped over the stairs like a waterfall of flames. One slender hand reste
d on the balustrade. She took a step down, and her leg appeared out of a slit in the skirt, revealing her strong thigh.

  She took another step down and smiled at him, her dark eyes flashing. This smile was practiced and smooth, different from the ones he had painstakingly coaxed from her over the past couple of weeks. It was a smile she could give any man.

  He had filthy dreams of sharing her body with other people, but oddly, he wanted a smile from her meant only for him.

  He didn’t hear what the butler said, but he was aware of the other man leaving them. Jacob moved closer until he was standing at the base of the stairs. They were separated by four steps, but her perfume, some dark blend of roses and honeysuckle, twined around him.

  “Tell me something,” he murmured.

  She cocked her head. Her long hair had been pulled up at the top to create a voluminous poof, and then curled and draped over one shoulder. Glamorous. Unattainable.

  He wanted that smile, damn it.

  “Anything you’d like.”

  “Did you have to hold this pose for long, waiting for me to walk through the door?”

  Ah, yes. The grin slipped. Surprise followed by irritation quickly chased across her face before she donned her mask again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He waved a hand up and down. “You know. This. Don’t get me wrong, you look amazing. Did you have a couple of serfs arrange your skirt so perfectly?”

  “Serfs are notoriously unreliable. I’ve stopped employing them entirely.”

  “Peasants then.”

  “They have to earn their keep somehow.” Her mask cracked, softened. “So you came.”

  “I came.”

  A dark and vulnerable shadow lit her eyes, a direct contrast to the power and strength of her pose. “It is our last night. You understand that.”

  He placed a foot on the stair. “Whether it is or isn’t is up to you.”

  “You say that now.”

  “I’ll say that twelve hours from now.”

  She inclined her head. “Come along, then. Let’s go upstairs.”