Dirty Secret

by Chelle Bliss

  “I will.”

  Jude’s expression is serious. “Kennedy, always trust your gut,” he says. “Before training, before rules, before anything else—your instincts will keep you safe.”

  He’s a veteran, and I know he’s been in life-and-death situations. His warning really hits home with me.

  “Do you think my instincts are good?” I ask him.

  “I know they are. I never would have recommended you for Greenlight if I didn’t know you could do it.”

  “Thanks. That really means a lot.”

  “Call us again soon,” Reagan says. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I end the call and stare at my blank computer screen for a few seconds. Those lucky fuckers are probably going to have sex and watch a movie or something. Weekends are totally made for coupledom.

  My work is my life these days. After the encouragement from Jude and Reagan, I’m ready to kick ass and take names again, starting tonight. A real relationship would be nice someday, but it won’t be with a man like Nix, whom I can never be sure I really know.

  10

  Phoenix

  It’s not even nine at night when Coco saunters into the foyer wearing oversized dark sunglasses, a charcoal trench coat, and a fur scarf thrown over her shoulder, announcing her presence. “I’m ready.”

  I take a deep breath. She’s become a major pain in my ass ever since I told her I’d teach her my business. “Did you bring your laptop?”

  She stops with one foot still in the air, being completely dramatic. “Shit!”

  “For the love of…”

  “Kidding.” She laughs and tosses her giant purse on the counter, giving it a few pats. “It’s in here, Nix. I remembered.”

  “What’s with the clothes? You know you aren’t coming out with me tonight.”

  She pulls the round glasses from her face and gives me a lopsided smile. “I know. I just like getting in the mind-set. I’m all underground criminal.”

  It takes everything in me not to groan. “Yeah, you don’t stick out or anything.”

  She plops down on the stool and pulls it toward the kitchen island, scraping it against the marble floor and making the most god-awful noise. “So what’s my assignment tonight?”

  “Learn how to use the internet.” When I push a stack of papers in front of her, she gives me the evil eye. I’m giving her homework filled with questions and basic research that any person who uses search engines every day could fill out quickly. But I know it’ll take Coco a little time to figure it out because it’s not a social media app. It’s a good start on her basic investigation skills and to teach her there’s more to the web than social media.

  “I know how to use it. Don’t be silly. I use it every day, in fact.”

  I rest my head in my hand and bite back a sigh. “I’m not talking about Instagram and Snapchat. You’re going to do some research.”

  She flips through the papers and mumbles, but I catch a few words here and there, and they aren’t pretty. “So this is my homework? You want me to answer all these questions?” There’s a slight snarl on her lips as she shakes the stack in the air.

  “Yep. Answer them all before I get home.”

  “I never liked homework.”

  I lean over and kiss her temple before climbing to my feet. “We all have to start somewhere, sweetheart.”

  “I thought your job was interesting.”

  “It wasn’t in the beginning.” Shoving my keys and wallet in my pockets, I grab my phone and check the screen. “Just be patient. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

  “Fine, Nix. I’ll stay here and do paperwork while you go out, drink, and have fun.”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing, Coco.” A text message catches my eye, and I know I can’t stay here and talk anymore. “I’ll be back soon. Prove to me that you can do this simple assignment on your own, and we’ll see about stepping up your training.”

  A giant, satisfied smile spreads across her face. “I’m so going to kick this assignment’s ass. You just watch.”

  “I have faith in you. Later, kid,” I call out over my shoulder as I head toward the front door. I know I’m going to regret that promise as soon as the words leave my mouth. Coco is always looking for a way to bypass steps, and she never forgets anything. At least, not when the promise has to do with something she wants. If it’s anything else, the girl has the memory of a flea.

  “What’s up?” I ask Crane as I slide in the back of the black Escalade.

  “Popcorn called.” His eyes find mine in the rearview mirror as he pulls away. “There’s a woman at the Loft looking for you and asking too many questions.”

  “Who?”

  “I believe it’s the woman you were with last night, based on Popcorn’s description. Her name is Eva, right?”

  “Yeah. That’s her.” I lie because I don’t want anyone to know her real name, not even Crane. Although he’s worked for me for years, I’m not ready to trust him with her real identity. She’s hiding it for a reason, and until I find out why, I’ll keep it just for myself too.

  “I don’t trust her, Nix.”

  “I have her handled.”

  His eyes come back to mine, and there’s a crease between his eyebrows this time. “Just be careful.”

  “Noted, Crane. Have you ever known me to be careless?”

  He shakes his head, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter beneath his fingers.

  “I have her covered. What else is going on that I should know about?”

  “Everything else is quiet.”

  I start scrolling through my messages before reading my emails and answering the important ones, but I make sure not to give anything away. I keep things low-key and basic when it comes to my digital footprint. Since 9-11, the US government has tapped phones and read all web traffic, especially from cell phones. Unless I’m at home with my specially encrypted laptop, I keep things on the down low.

  When we pull up in front of the Loft, Crane turns his upper body to face me, resting his hand on the headrest of the passenger seat. “If anything bad happens, just ring my phone and I’ll be out front before you hit the doors.”

  “I’ll be outside and down the street before I call if something happens. Just stick close tonight.”

  He nods. “I will.”

  As I climb out, I check the streets but see nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe Crane is just being paranoid or my vibe is off, but I’m not feeling like any bad shit’s going to happen tonight. Kennedy’s presence at the club isn’t alarming. The fact that she’s asking about me isn’t strange either. But she’s throwing up red flags because she hasn’t established enough of a reputation not to send Popcorn into a panic.

  “Nix,” Paul says at the doorway, giving me a short nod as I walk by and enter the Loft.

  I smile and lift my chin to him in response. “Evening, Paul.”

  After I make it to the lower level, a few people call out to me as I walk, but I ignore them. I make a beeline for the woman sitting at the bar with her entire back exposed, waiting for company. Kennedy has on her blue wig, just like the first time I met her. She has the same black leather boots that fasten just above her knees and a miniskirt that gives just enough of a view of her thighs to make most men stare.

  A gold necklace hangs backward, lying down her spine and ending about six inches above her waist. I want to reach out and trace the line with the backs of my fingers, but I resist the urge to draw attention to us, especially in Hassan’s territory.

  Leaning forward, I bring my mouth close to her ear, inhaling her sweet perfume. “Eva.”

  She shivers when she hears my voice and turns her head ever so slightly so that our mouths are almost touching. “Nix.” There’s a twinkle in her eyes. “You’re a pleasant surprise.”

  I place my hands on her shoulders and sweep my thumbs against her exposed skin. “I heard you were asking about me.”

  “Flattering yourself?” H
er voice betrays her. My touch is affecting her, and tiny goose pimples break out across her skin.

  “If you have questions, I’d rather you ask me.” I move closer and bury my face in her hair to stop myself from kissing her sweet, beautiful mouth in front of everyone. “Kennedy.” I remind her that I know who she really is and not to fuck with me so easily. I’m soft, but at some point, I’ll fight fire with fire.

  We all have secrets.

  Even I do.

  There isn’t a single person in my life that knows all of me. Everyone has pieces and parts, but nobody gets the full picture. My father knows the most about me, but even he’s in the dark about some things. It’s better this way because I want to make sure everyone who’s important to me has plausible deniability. They can’t tell what they don’t know.

  Her smile fades and her eyes narrow. “Would you like a drink?” She changes the subject, but I wouldn’t have used her name if I weren’t absolutely sure no one would hear.

  She catches the attention of Popcorn and points to me, holding up two fingers. Popcorn’s eyes meet mine, waiting for a signal, and I give her a quick nod before turning my attention back to Kennedy.

  “What information were you trying to find out? No better person to ask than the object of your obsession.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” She laughs nervously. “Just wanted to know if you’re a stand-up guy.”

  “Shouldn’t you have asked that before we fucked?”

  She gasps. “We did not!” Swiveling around on her stool, she knocks my legs with her leather-clad knees.

  I give her a smug grin and figure why not play with her a little. “Do you even remember?”

  “I think I’d remember that.” But based on the look on her face and the greenish hue to her skin, I can tell she’s not convinced of her own statement.

  “We didn’t fuck,” I tell her to ease her conscience. “You’d remember if we did.”

  “Two Louis’s,” Popcorn says, interrupting our conversation. She’s giving me the stink eye. The one she uses when she’s concerned about things that really shouldn’t matter to her. She places the glasses in front of each of us. “Anything else?”

  “We’re good.” I wave her off, wanting to get back to where we left off. There’s an electric charge between Kennedy and me that I can’t explain, but I’ve felt it since the moment I laid eyes on her. Kissing her hasn’t helped the feeling fade either.

  Popcorn doesn’t leave, though. She takes the rag off her shoulder and starts to scrub an imaginary spot off the bar top just to the right of Kennedy. She’s eavesdropping, or at least, trying to.

  “Would you like to take our drinks somewhere more private and talk business?” I ask Kennedy much to the chagrin of Popcorn.

  Kennedy grips her Cognac in one hand and grins. “I’d love to, Nix. There’s lots to discuss.” She holds out her left hand to me, and being a gentleman, I take it and help her from the stool. She barely wobbles this time in the sky-high heels and doesn’t spill a drop of Louis.

  I don’t look back as we walk away, but I can feel Popcorn’s eyes on us as we move. If I had been paying better attention, I would have probably found more than one set watching us as we moved through the bar to head down a back hallway. It’s a special section of the club used for special meetings and privacy when necessary. Even though Hassan is out of town, I know he has people in the club at all times, and I’m sure he’s getting a full report of my activity with his newest blue-haired obsession.

  I motion toward the room at the end of the corridor, which is the farthest away from prying eyes and the most secluded. When we enter, I stand near the doorway and check that we haven’t been followed. Very few things make me nervous, but being alone with her in this place has my pulse racing. Maybe it’s the hard-on I can already feel coming and the possibility we’ll be caught.

  She takes a seat in the red velvet chair in the corner, setting her drink down on the tiny gold end table next to her and crossing her legs. “Everything okay?” she asks, fidgeting with the edges of her skirt, which has ridden up her thighs.

  “It’s fine. Just checking to make sure we’re alone,” I tell her as my eyes take a final sweep of the hallway before closing the door. Locking us in, I stalk toward her, taking a seat on the coffee table directly in front of her.

  “Who are you, Kennedy?” I ask, watching her reaction closely for anything that could tip me off. Even though I got her tipsy the other night, she didn’t cave. She stuck to her story, but it sounded rehearsed to the trained ear.

  “I’m Kennedy.” She smiles playfully and avoids the question, licking her lips to distract me.

  I place my drink next to hers and scoot forward, caging her in. I want her captive. “Let’s be real for a minute here.” The warmth of her thighs does nothing to quell the ache that’s starting to become painful.

  “I have been.” Her back straightens, and her legs brush against the insides of my thighs.

  I scoot closer and place my palms on her knees to stop their shaking. “Do you want to be with me or Hassan? I don’t do sloppy seconds.”

  “Hassan’s a means to an end, Nix.” She swallows hard, and her lips part as she stares at me with a look I can only describe as lust-filled. “You’re…”

  “Sexy? Handsome?”

  She laughs. “Nix.”

  “Come on. Just admit you wanted to fuck me last night, and I’ll stop.” I want this woman.

  Her body moves forward, and her knees brush against my cock. I slide my hand under the hem of her miniskirt. “Only if you’ll admit it too.”

  “I have no issue saying what I want, Kennedy. Right now, I want you. I don’t want Hassan’s filthy hands touching you again. I don’t want him to even look in your direction. You wanted my attention, and now you’ve got it, but you may regret trading in one devil for another.”

  “I don’t want Hassan.”

  My hands glide to the top of her legs, her skin warming underneath my fingers as I grip her thighs tightly. “Say it, Kennedy. Say what you want.”

  “I want you,” she says, breathy and wanton as her body moves forward into my touch. “Won’t that cause problems for you?”

  “With Hassan?” I ask and hold her face in one hand.

  “Yes.” Her cheek flushes under my thumb.

  “I don’t work with him and never will. I’ll handle him.”

  “Nix.” She leans forward, melting into my touch.

  “Shh.” I bring my lips to hers and she shivers. “Don’t stop me, Ken.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.” Her tongue darts out, sweeping across my lips, and I lose all control. I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t stop myself. My need for her outweighs everything else, and I can’t contain the growl that creeps up my throat at the contact.

  The warmth of her Louis-coated tongue has my already hard cock straining against my pants for relief. Needing to hold her mouth against mine, I move a hand from her legs, sweeping it up her arm and tangling in her hair. As I fist it in my hands, she moans softly against my lips and melts into me. The harshness of our breaths rings in my ears, louder than the dull thud of the club music upstairs thumping against the ceiling and reverberating down the walls.

  Everything else fades away.

  It’s only her and me, our lips entwined and our pulses racing. I haven’t felt a rush like this since I first got in this business. Maybe it’s the chance that this could cause friction between Hassan and me that makes it so enticing and exciting, but one thing is for sure—Kennedy Preston is bad news.

  11

  Kennedy

  Nix’s mouth is warm, his kiss demanding. He tastes like Cognac and cinnamon, and I can’t seem to get enough. When he moves his knee up to the chair I’m sitting on and slides it between my legs, they part in silent obedience.

  He gives a low hum of amusement. “Can’t get these legs open for me fast enough, can you?”

  “Less talking and more kissing,” I say, taking two fistfuls of hi
s shirt and bringing him closer to me.

  He leans over me, sliding a hand around to grip my ass. I wrap my leg around his waist and he returns his mouth to mine, his kiss making me moan softly. I’m hot, achy, and high on the feeling of letting go of everything but this moment.

  I’m not watching or analyzing. I’m not working Nix so I can get information out of him like I’m supposed to be. Despite the blue wig, it’s Kennedy kissing Nix, not Eva.

  When I tighten my leg around Nix’s waist, he groans and his free hand slides into my hair. He pulls it hard enough to make me gasp. I bite his lower lip to even the score.

  “Fuck,” he says breathlessly. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

  “So don’t.”

  His eyes darken, and he’s lowering his mouth back to mine when the sound of someone walking into the room makes us unwind ourselves from each other and turn.

  “Nix.” It’s Grayson, the owner of the Loft. His calculating gaze sweeps over us, and it hits me just how fucking stupid I’m being right now.

  Grayson is a tall, broad, biracial man with a permanent scowl. He lacks the smoothness of men like Nix and Hassan, but he doesn’t need it. He commands attention and respect, not just because he’s a powerful man, but also because he’s known for having people who disrespect him killed.

  “What?” Nix’s aggravated tone makes my stomach roll. He’s got balls, I’ll give him that.

  “You’re needed in a suite upstairs. That proposition we discussed?”

  “Can it wait?”

  Grayson’s eyes narrow. “Fuck no, but the pussy can. You in or not?”

  Nix sighs softly. “Yeah. I’m right behind you.”

  Grayson shakes his head and leaves the room. I’m not surprised he didn’t even acknowledge me because that’s his style.

  “Sorry,” Nix says, his eyes locking with mine. “I came here for business tonight, but you distracted me.”

  I arch my brows and give him a look. “I did no such thing.”

  “Don’t bullshit me. That dress?”