Taking Control (Kerr Chronicles #2)
Page 7
“Ian knows the owner,” I murmur.
“Are you saying . . .” she trails off and then lets out a squeak of delight. “Is it crass for me to say yes, hallelujah, yes?”
“No, it’s a pretty cool place.” I hurriedly add, “Howe might be there.”
“Ohh,” she says. “Then yes, let’s go. We can follow him around and record him doing stuff. Good call.”
“He’s leaving, gotta run. I’ll let you know the details about the Aquarium.”
I hang up before she responds. Howe looks across the street and for a moment, I wonder if he sees me, recognizes me. He steps toward the edge of the sidewalk, but a car passes and he’s forced backward. I take the opportunity to turn and look in a window display, pretending to admire the dresses. In the glass, I can barely make out his form. He’s standing motionless, still staring at me. My heart is beating extra loudly in my ears. Should I run? If he comes up to me, what will I say, other than You’re a piece of shit? Actually, I’d like to say something to him. I half turn before I realize he’s already gone.
Deflated, I walk up to the corner to hail a cab. When I get back to the office, Jake is gone. There’s a white envelope taped on the door and inside is a note with words on it. I frown, because even though I know Jake wants me to read, he usually leaves me a voicemail. It takes me several minutes to read the two sentences, but when I do I realize it isn’t from Jake at all.
“Don’t poke a hornet’s nest. You’ll get stung.”
I look around, an odd sense of dread gripping me. Nobody’s staring at me. Everything looks normal, just another day at the office. I read the message again though and realize with a chill little feeling in my veins that someone is on to me. Someone knows I’ve been following Howe. Or . . . someone is following me.
Feeling uneasy, I tuck the message in the desk and try to brush it aside. That afternoon, the phone rings several times but no one ever says anything. I realize after the fifth one, hang-ups are fucking creepy.
CHAPTER 6
IAN
That evening I take Tiny to a rooftop restaurant in Brooklyn on an invitation from Kaga, who claimed he wanted to get to know Tiny better.
“I think he’s lonely,” I tell Tiny as Steve takes us across the river.
“Does he have any family here?”
“His sister visits from time to time, but he’s largely a solitary creature, which is odd to say about someone whose business is entertaining thousands a night.”
“Have you been friends a long time?”
“For many years. We met at one of his nightclubs, in fact. I believe he thought I was selling drugs, isn’t that right, Steve?”
Steve grunts. We all understand that was a yes in Steve talk.
Tiny’s lips curve up. “What were you doing?”
“Nothing so illegal as selling drugs but perhaps nothing exactly appropriate either,” I admit. “I was meeting with a chemist who claimed to have inside knowledge on a shocking drug. It all turned out to be a bunch of nonsense which amused Kaga to no end. He brought me up to his office and proceeded to tell me that backroom deals belonged in dark alleys and dusty stockrooms and not in plush velvet club banquettes where bottle service was a grand an hour.”
“So cheap,” she said faintly indicating she thought it was anything but inexpensive.
“Exactly what I told Kaga. I gave him the tip to stay away from the pharmaceutical company. If anything, the chemist’s willingness to spill secrets indicated a rather ill-run company. Others bought into the fake inside information and lost quite a bit of money.”
“But you and Kaga came out smelling sweet,” she concludes.
“We did. We’ve played cards together; sometimes jog together.” Engaged in sordid pursuit of easy women at one time or another. “Over time, we have become friends.”
“I’ve lost so many of mine,” she admitted. “I’m glad Sarah called me. I can barely remember the names of everyone I graduated with, let alone keep track of their marriages, divorces, and jobs.”
I worry that Sarah is using Tiny for Tiny’s newfound connections, but I keep that to myself. No sense in tainting something she enjoys with my cynicism.
“Did I mention how lovely you look tonight?” Tiny’s hair is stick-straight and her gorgeous breasts appear unbound again beneath a heavily sequined top in navy. She’s wearing a matching navy satin skirt. On her feet are silver sandals.
“What color today?” I ask, sliding a hand over her knee. I’d left before she had dressed for the day. Every piece of lingerie she owns I’ve bought for her. Some of the items I purchased before we were even a couple, during the chase, when I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted from her other than sex. Others I’ve bought since. It’s my favorite type of gift. Truly, it’s not even a gift for her. It’s a selfish present, one that I enjoy far more than she does.
Seeing the lace and silk and satin that I’ve bought on her golden skin is as pleasurable as anything I’ve ever done. The cloth that covers her sweet sex and the ties that bind her breasts are all chosen by me, hand-picked and purchased. When her arousal wets the fabric between her legs, that’s fabric that I’ve bought. She belongs to me.
Soon everything she wears will be purchased by my money. It’s a crass sense of ownership I’m seeking. Fleeting too. She could leave me and take everything with her or leave it all behind, but for now, it thrills me to know that every part of her intimate, secret body is touched by something I’ve paid for.
“Ian,” she hisses, pushing my hand away and nodding toward Steve. She’s prudish at times when it comes to sex in the car. She’s determined to be modest in front of Steve.
“He doesn’t care,” I say. I pay him a lot of money not to care. Steve hits a button and the privacy screen goes up but not before I see his eyes roll. It’s hard to say who he thinks is sillier—Tiny for being embarrassed or me for not being able to keep my hands to myself. “And now he can’t see.”
“But he knows,” she protests weakly.
“Who cares?” I whisper in her ear. “Tell me what color.”
“Mint green,” she answers with a moan as my hand slips under the lace to stroke her soft skin.
“When you’re sitting at your desk, thinking of me, do you get wet knowing that I picked these out for you?” I ask pinching her clit lightly.
She inhales sharply. “I get wet thinking about you,” she finally whispers. Her legs shift restlessly. I know what she wants. She wants my tongue. My fingers. My cock. And she’ll have it all.
“What do you do? Do you rub yourself under the desk? Do you go to the bathroom? Tell me.” I push her panties aside and thrust two fingers inside her.
“Sometimes I’ll press myself under my desk,” she says. “Just to ease the ache.”
“Does it work?” I pump slowly. Her left hand closes around my wrist, but not to tug me away; she draws me closer. I want to hear her talk. I need to hear it so that when I’m at work, I can visualize what she’s doing during her day.
“No, not really.” She bites the side of her lip. “I can’t make myself feel as good as you can.”
“Oh, bunny.” At her words, my head and cock swell so large I feel like I will burst. “I’m always here for you. You need me during the day, just call me. My favorite thing in all the world is making you feel good.”
Her cheeks pinken. “I can’t call you in the middle of the day to come and screw me,” she chastises.
“Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t be professional.” She wrinkles her nose as if professional is a dirty word.
“Jake is running a security firm, not a bank.”
“Still, I don’t think it’s right for me to ask you to drive all the way uptown for some afternoon delight.”
I grin at her phrasing. “It’d be Steve who’d do the driving. And, bunny, there isn’t anything I’d rather
do than drive uptown to have sex with you.”
Unbuckling my belt with my free hand, I unzip and shove my trousers down just far enough to release my very erect cock. When I grip it, she licks her lips. Jesus fuck. She is so hot.
“You need me, I’m there.” I stroke myself, spreading my pre-cum all over. Her eyes hungrily follow my every move. “But since we’re both here now, I guess it’s an academic discussion. Do you want to ride me or shall I make that very important decision?”
Unfortunately Steve intones “five minutes” over the intercom. With regret, I pull my fingers out and wipe them on a handkerchief.
“I hate you,” she whimpers. “I’m worked up. My panties are wet and we’re about to get out of the car and have dinner with one of your closest friends.”
“You look gorgeous and unmussed,” I assure her. “No one would ever know. If you do feel particularly restless, I’m happy to address any issues in the bathroom.”
“I need you to not touch me again until the ride home and then I’ll be the one to close the privacy screen and you’ll be the one with wet underwear.”
“Dinner will be very short,” I vow.
Kaga is waiting for us on the rooftop, enjoying a drink at the bar. There were three women surrounding him.
“Miss Corielli, so nice to see you again.” Kaga squeezes both her hands and leans down to kiss her cheek. We’re seated in the corner of the rooftop, a small screen separating us from the rest of the dining area. Kaga prefers his privacy just as I do.
“How are you enjoying your new job?” Kaga asks.
She gives a self-deprecating little laugh, “I think Jake is a very kind person to give me this job.”
“I don’t believe Jake does anything out of kindness,” Kaga says slightly bitterly. “If you’re not competent you wouldn’t be there.”
“Maybe.” She sounds unconvinced. “I know that Jake could have someone do my job ten times better than me. Plus, he knows I don’t enjoy working there, which makes me feel bad,” she finishes with a big sigh.
“Don’t worry about Jake’s feelings. He’s a big boy,” I say and Kaga nods his agreement.
I swiftly change the subject and we end up spending the rest of the evening arguing about the shitty city traffic. Tiny’s solution is for all of us to ride bicycles, a suggestion Kaga greets with utter horror.
“It’s good exercise,” she insists.
“There are plenty of other ways to get one’s blood pumping,” Kaga replies, his eyes sparking with amusement.
I step in. “No one gets to make innuendos of those kind to Tiny but me.”
He inclines his head. “I apologize, Ian. Of course. I would not like that either.”
“You guys are cavemen,” she shakes her head in reproof.
“Perhaps if she had a big shiny rock on her left hand, it would help to remind me of her status.”
“I can see it will have to be large enough that blind men like you will be able to see it.” I pick up Tiny’s slim fingers and press a kiss against them. Her fingers do look bare. I’m anxious for us to marry so that we can both wear visible signs of our ownership.
On the way home, she snuggles into my side—full of good food and perhaps a little too many Moscow Mules. The promise to ravish me in the car is forgotten and as the car ride lulls her to sleep, my mind swings back to the frustrating day with Louis.
“Did you have a very bad day at work?” she asks, smoothing her bare hand over my chest. Now that Kaga has pointed it out, not having my ring on her finger bothers me. I need to give it to her, but I haven’t found the right moment.
“I thought you were asleep, bunny,” I say pulling her into my lap and dropping a kiss on her hair.
“No but I’m really full and feeling terribly relaxed. I’m sorry I’m not embarrassing you in front of Steve like I said I would.”
“You’ll have to make up for it later,” I say.
“Will you tell me what’s bothering you first?” she asks.
“I’m likely going to fire my vice president of operations,” I say.
She pushes away and gives me a frown. “That sounds serious.”
“It’s not. It’s probably been a long time coming. I told him that I’m thinking of winding down Kerr Inc. and he did not take that well.”
“I hope you aren’t doing that for me,” she interjects with alarm. “I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself. If you’re thinking of slowing down, don’t do it for me.”
I pull her back, missing the weight and warmth of her body next to mine. “I’ve worked nonstop since the age of fifteen, even earlier. I went to school, did odd jobs hustling on the boardwalk in Atlantic City, playing poker games and leveraging those sums into higher stakes poker until I had enough money to buy my way into a small-time brokerage firm. I bought and sold everything I could get my hands on—legal and illegal. Kerr Inc. is a nice accomplishment, but I can’t go anywhere from here.”
“So you want to retire on top?”
“No,” I shake my head. “I want something fulfilling in my life, and I know that the acquisition of more wealth, more status isn’t it. The only reason that I want to have money now is so that our family never suffers. But the mere fact that I have so much makes us both targets. I don’t like that. I want to live a quiet life with you. I want to drive our kids to school and chaperone them on school trips. I want to watch every softball pitch or soccer kick. None of those things can happen while I’m down on Hudson Street trying to figure out whether to invest twenty million in this new technology or that new technology.”
“Oh.” She leans back to stare at me as she digests this.
A moment of uncharacteristic uncertainty wafts over me. Does giving up Kerr Inc. diminish me in her eyes in some way? Was I not man enough without the billions backing me? “I’ll still be filthy stinking rich,” I say, unable to keep the sarcasm from leaking out.
“Lord, Ian.” She rolls her eyes. “As if that even matters to me. I just had no idea you felt that way. I think it’s awesome, actually. I wonder sometimes if I’m enough for you. Whether you’ll lose interest because I’m not smart enough to figure out all the terms for buyouts and mergers and leverages and positions. Wanting to exit the fast lane doesn’t make you smaller to me. Just smarter.” She hesitates and then jokes, “Can we just run off to an island together and forget about the real world?”
I grab her hand and press a kiss against the back of her fingers. “Done. What island do you want me to buy? Something in the Baltic? Perhaps down by Greece? South America?”
A small smile appears while she pretends to contemplate her options. “Why not all of them? We can travel from island to island whenever we get bored.”
“I can’t think of anything better. Let’s leave tomorrow.”
“I wish.” She laughs lightly.
“You don’t need to wish,” I answer. “It can be reality if you want it to be.”
She tugs her hand away. “I think it’s great that you want to do that, but I can’t see us being happy on an island. For all your ‘I’m getting out’ talk, you’d be bored in five minutes.”
She’s right, but I don’t like admitting that. “Perhaps, but there’s a big difference between working nonstop and having a balanced life. And speaking of having a family, I’d like to stop using condoms,” I tell her. “I’ve had a medical checkup and I’m perfectly healthy.”
“You want to have children now?” she asks.
“When you’re ready, but mostly I want to fuck you without protection,” I say honestly.
Her eyes heat up and it’s a good thing we arrive home or we’d have to employ the privacy screen again. As it is, we barely make it inside the door before I’ve ripped her panties down her legs and she has me out and inside of her.
“God, Ian, you feel amazing. I swear I can feel every vein.”
I fasten my mouth against hers and the rough swiftness of our joining is blurring my vision and making me weak. Her hands grip my shoulders and then tangle in my hair as I push her skirt out of my way so I can find her perfect little clit. I press down with my thumb and she finds her release only seconds before mine comes shooting down my spine.
“That was . . .” she’s at a loss for words.
“Fucking amazing,” I finish for her. After a few more heartbeats, I carry her up the stairs until I find our bedroom and we start all over again.
CHAPTER 7
“I appreciate you doing this,” Tiny says for the millionth time as she rushes around the bathroom trying to get ready. I don’t recall ever seeing her this nervous before.
“It’s not a chore.” I slip my pearl cufflinks through a snowy-white dress shirt. Sitting on the bench, I pull on socks and loafers. This is my nightclub attire, as designated by Frank. Shirt, dark wash jeans, and a sport coat. Tiny picked the coat out for me, and it’s currently lying on the end of the bed. Stretching out my legs, I enjoy the show she’s putting on.
We’re taking her friend to the Aquarium, and Tiny has put more effort and thought into what she’ll wear and how she’ll look for this evening than for any of the dates I’ve taken her on.
“Are you planning on sleeping with this chick tonight?” I ask. She pauses in zipping up her third outfit. No wait, maybe this is her fourth.
“Ha.Ha. Very funny, Ian. Help me.” She turns her back to me and I slide the zipper up. This selection is a dress, which is probably a bad idea for a bar with a second floor made almost entirely of glass.
“Did you forget that people can look up your skirt at the bar?” I ask, sliding a finger up the inside of a creamy thigh. “Because I can see starting a lot of fights tonight if you intend to wear this, particularly with those panties on.”