Claimed by Pleasure: King of Spades (Wonderland Book 2)

by Jaymie Holland

  Sighing, Alexi tore a piece of label off her beer bottle, her twin gold bracelets glittering from her wrists with every movement she made. Moisture beaded on the bottle’s brown surface, wetting her fingertips as she worked to strip the bottle bare.

  A fresh wave of anger flushed over her at the memory of why Alice had gone to the park in the first place. She’d walked in on her cheating bastard fiancé and caught him screwing their landlady while being taken in the ass by a guy in leather and chains. Alexi had maced the hell out of the three of them, but Alice had fled.

  After Alexi had kicked the trio out of the apartment, she’d called Alice on her cell phone several times. Her twin had refused to come home, insisting that she needed to get away. Alice had mentioned the reason she’d been home early to begin with—her boss had fired her for refusing to suck his cock as part of her secretarial duties.

  In the weeks following Alice’s disappearance, Alexi had taken her fury out on the bastard and made him pay. She’d done her homework, and the accountant had gone down in a hurry for tax evasion.

  Alexi took a couple more swallows of her beer before she thunked the bottle back onto the bar. “I’m going to find her, Annie. I know that she’s out there somewhere. She’s not dead, she’s just missing.” Alexi paused. “As twins, Alice and I have a deep connection. That connection has lessened, as if she’s far away, but it’s not gone. I would know if she was—” Alexi swallowed. “Gone. Really gone. You know what I mean.”

  “I do. Y’all have always had an uncanny ability to communicate.” Annie sipped her iced tea through the straw and carefully set it back on the drink coaster so that it was perfectly in the center. “You’re going to have to move on for now. You and the police have done everything you can.”

  Alexi’s mind slipped back in time, to the moment she’d parked the Hog, thrown her helmet aside, and run for the park bench. “Why did Alice stuff her bra and panties into her purse?” she mused aloud for the thousandth time. “If she’d been kidnapped and raped, it’s not likely the person would have taken the time to leave Alice’s underwear behind, so neatly tucked away.”

  As she frowned at her beer bottle, Alexi’s head began to spin—from both the beer she’d chugged and the memories of Alice’s disappearance. “Her bare footprints led around a tree, and then nothing. Nothing. It was like she’d been swallowed up whole.” Alexi shook her head then regretted it thanks to the spinning sensation in her head. “No footprints were there that might show someone had been there with her. Rabbit prints, but that’s it.”

  Alexi turned her gaze to Annie who looked totally miserable now. “This was supposed to be a night to get your mind off everything for a little while,” Annie said quietly. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.” Alexi leaned over and hugged her cousin. Annie was soft and warm, and smelled of brown sugar and vanilla. When Alexi pulled away, she gave Annie the start of a smile. “You’re right. I need to enjoy our time together and that’s that.”

  The alcohol buzz hit Alexi hard. One minute she was feeling a little loose and the next she was good and tipsy. She was such a freaking lightweight, and a giggly drunk the rare times she reached that point. Alcohol made her real horny, too, but she wasn’t likely to do anything about that, other than use one of her assorted vibrators when she got home.

  She braced one elbow on the bar and trailed the fingers of her other hand over her sexy midriff top with the beaded fringe, down to the black miniskirt, and then pointed to the lipstick-red stilettos she’d put on at Annie’s suggestion for their night out. “Maybe I ought to see if I can find a man and put this outfit and these ‘fuck-me’ shoes to good use. It’s been over a year since I’ve had a good lay. I don’t do celibacy well.”

  Annie rolled her eyes and Alexi had to grin. Her cousin lived alone with her cat, Abracadabra, and was an artist as well as a brilliant English lit professor. Annie looked the part, too, with her butt-length nut-brown hair pinned into a knot at her nape, and her ever-present loose skirts and blouses. Tonight Annie’s version of a going-out-on-the-town dress was a simple black blouse and skirt that complemented her generous figure, but couldn’t be called sexy in the slightest. And for all Alexi knew, Annie was still a virgin, ’cause she always got embarrassed when the subject of sex was brought up.

  So Alexi almost fell off her barstool when Annie said, “I think you should. That is, er, get laid.”

  “Excuse me.” Alexi held up one finger as she grabbed her beer with her free hand and chugged the rest of the bottle’s contents. She banged the empty on the bar then turned back to her cousin. “Did you actually say the term ‘get laid,’ as in ‘get fucked’?”

  A deep rose flush stole over Annie’s face. “Just because I’m not getting any, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

  “Hmmmm.” Alexi placed her finger on the tip of her nose and swayed as she eyed her cousin from head to toe. “I think this calls for a plan of action. A plan to get Annie laid.”

  “Um, no.” The room’s soft lighting reflected off of Annie’s glasses as she retrieved her wallet from a pocket of her skirt. She pulled out enough to cover the tab and a tip. “I don’t do casual sex.”

  This time Alexi snorted. “You don’t do sex at all.”

  The color in Annie’s cheeks flashed stoplight red and her voice rose an octave. “Ready for dinner? I made reservations at the seafood place next door.”

  Alexi’s head spun from all the beer as she grabbed her jacket and purse, and slipped the long skinny strap of her purse onto her shoulder. “So that was your plan.” She giggled. She only giggled when she drank, or when she was with her sister, cousin, or aunt.

  She slid off the barstool, her tiny skirt riding up to her hips and flashing her panties. She didn’t give a damn if anyone saw her butt—right now she was feeling fiiiiine. “Figured you’d get me drunk and relaxed before dinner, did ya?”

  Annie gripped Alexi’s upper arm to steady her. “Worked, didn’t it?” Annie glanced over Alexi’s shoulder and muttered, “But I’d better get you out of here quick, before the big guy in all that black leather makes it over here.”

  “But I like men in black.” Alexi tottered as Annie dragged her toward the bar’s swinging doors. “I really like to get down and dirty with ’em. The tall, dark, and dangerous type. Maybe I’d even let him tie me up—if he’s man enough to take me.”

  “Trust me, sweetheart.” Annie gripped Alexi’s arm tighter. “You don’t want to mess with that one. Big. Hairy. And butt-ugly.”

  “Oh, Annie.” Alexi giggled again and slipped her arm around her cousin’s waist. “It’s nice to have someone looking after me for a change.”

  ~~*~~

  It was midnight by the time the taxi pulled up to Alexi’s pastel pink town house. She and Annie had enjoyed a relaxing evening of several courses, from shrimp cocktail to clam chowder, to Caesar salad, then grilled salmon, cheesecake for dessert, and coffee with Baileys afterward. Alexi had enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine during dinner, and had managed to keep up her good buzz, but she’d had to have her coffee afterward. If she didn’t get her daily dose of caffeine, things could get ugly.

  For a fraction of a second when she looked up at the dark town house, a sense of loneliness bled through her, and she wished she wouldn’t be alone for at least one night. But she shoved the loneliness away, gave Annie a quick hug good-bye, and climbed out of the cab.

  “Get some rest, y’hear?” Annie said as Alexi stood outside the car’s door. “Need me to walk you to the door?”

  “Okay and nope, I’m fine.” Alexi gave her cousin a smile and tried not to wobble on her stilettos so Annie wouldn’t realize how tipsy she still was. “You made the anniversary of Alice’s disappearance so much easier to get through.”

  Annie pushed her glasses up her nose and returned Alexi’s smile. “For both of us.”

  After she shut the car’s door, Alexi watched the taxi pull away until its red taillights disappeare
d over the hill.

  With a sigh she turned, her purse slapping against her hip beneath her jacket. She tottered up the steps to the town house she’d been renting since Alice disappeared. It was supposed to have been a surprise for Alice—one of the partners at the firm where Alexi worked had taken a position in New York City. He’d agreed to rent the two-story town house to them at a rock-bottom rate. The day that Alice vanished, Alexi had finalized the deal.

  The first week after Alice’s disappearance, while she searched for her twin, Alexi had hired movers to bring all of Alice’s belongings from the little apartment she’d lived in with her asshole ex-fiancé. Everything had been moved in and was ready for Alice, for the day when Alexi found her sister.

  But she never had.

  Alexi’s gold bracelets jangled as she grasped the old-fashioned brass door handle when she reached the small concrete landing. She breathed deeply of the smells of ocean and fresh-cut grass. The sound of a foghorn floated through the night along with the clang of a ferry’s bell.

  For some reason, even though they were different types, Alexi’s gold bracelets reminded her of the woven bracelet she’d given Alice. Her twin never took it off. The thought filled Alexi’s chest with overwhelming sadness.

  She paused. She almost didn’t want to go into the house…to be alone again. But what else was she going to do?

  After unlocking the door, she let herself into the dim interior lit only by a colorful stained-glass lamp on a small table in the foyer. One of Annie’s beautiful seascape oil paintings adorned the wall just above the table. Alexi locked the door behind her, and then started to slip her jacket from her shoulders. Familiar odors of cinnamon potpourri and lemon furniture polish surrounded her, and she almost imagined she could smell the rose-scented lotion Alice used to moisturize her skin.

  But then Alexi caught smells that didn’t belong, and she dropped her jacket to the carpeted floor in a rush, freeing her arms. The unfamiliar scents set her senses on alert because they didn’t belong in her home. Wildflowers, sunshine, and a fresh mountain breeze. Pleasant, yes, but they shouldn’t have been there.

  Her purse still hung from her shoulder, and she slipped her hand inside until her fingers met the cool Mace canister. Hair prickled at her nape while she withdrew the canister. Slowly she let her purse slide to the carpeted floor where it landed with a soft thud. Her heart pounded, and the pleasant buzz she’d had vanished.

  An eerie blue glow flared from the direction of Alexi’s bedroom.

  Anger burned in her gut. Someone was in her home, and she was going to kick that person’s ass. She might not know martial arts like Aunt Awai, but Alexi knew self-defense techniques and worked out. Not to mention she had a can of Mace along with a hell of a temper that more than made up for any lack of martial arts training.

  Mace held high in her left hand, Alexi gritted her teeth and silently eased down the plush carpeted steps and through the living room. She clenched her right hand into a fist, prepared to deck the son of a bitch once she nailed him with the Mace.

  All her senses were on high alert, and her ankles didn’t even wobble in the killer stilettos. When she reached the bedroom door she waited a second, then peeked around the doorframe.

  A giant mirror stood where her bed should be. An incredibly beautiful mirror with an ornate gilt frame that glittered in the strange blue glow now filling her bedroom. Sparkles flashed within the blue misty glow, looking as though Tinkerbelle had come for a visit.

  What the hell?

  Anger and confusion mingled with curiosity as Alexi moved toward the mirror. The bead fringe along her blouse caressed her belly as a breeze seemed to come from inside the mirror and flow out into the bedroom. Her steps faltered and she wondered if maybe she’d gotten a whole lot more buzzed than she’d originally thought. She had to be hallucinating all of this.

  When she finally reached the mirror she stood face-to-face with her reflection. Her almond-shaped turquoise eyes, her auburn hair, her hand held high, still gripping the Mace. What was she going to do, Mace her mirror image?

  The whole moment was bizarre and surreal, and Alexi was sure she’d lost her grip on reality. Hell, maybe her sanity, too. She let the canister slip from her fingers and it gave a soft thump as it landed on the carpet. The gold bracelet on her wrist glittered in the room’s eerie light as she raised her hand and placed her palm flat against the mirror’s surface. It was smooth, but surprisingly warm to her touch.

  It sure didn’t feel like a hallucination.

  Her reflection rippled and changed and Alexi’s knees almost gave out.

  A mountain meadow appeared, surrounded with thick forest to the left, a ridge of mountains to the right, and lots of wildflowers scattered through thick grass. A cool breeze washed over Alexi, fluttering the bead fringe at her belly and chilling the gold tiger charm at her navel. In the distance water tumbled down a steep mountainside and she heard the rumble of the falls and birds twittering. Rich scents swept over her with the breeze—smells of pine, damp forest loam, wildflowers, and fresh water.

  Okay, she was certifiable. Call the funny farm, because Alexi O’Brien had done lost it. No more beer for her—crappy-tasting stuff, anyway. She might as well just curl up on the floor, take a nap, and sleep it off.

  A bare-chested man moved into her mirror view, and Alexi thought she was going to scream.

  That or orgasm, because he was the most gorgeous, most dangerous-looking man she’d ever seen. His penetrating green eyes were staring right at her, as if he could see her.

  Alexi’s nipples tightened beneath her scanty midriff top. Damn, this is one fine hallucination.

  The man held up a playing card and the muscles of his chest and arms rippled with power. His features were strong and chiseled and his long wood-brown hair stirred around his shoulders in the breeze as he stood in the meadow.

  He looked bad to the bone from the gold earring he sported in his left ear to the tattoo of a spade on his left wrist, to—hold on—that one hell of a package between his powerful black-clad thighs. She’d bet he’d be man enough to take her on. Maybe even man enough to tie her up and give her one hell of a ride.

  Alexi sucked in her breath and pressed her palm tighter to the mirror. Damn. If he were real I’d fuck him in a heartbeat.

  The hallucination man’s lips quirked and Alexi thought she’d climax from the sinfully sensual movement.

  Time to get out the vibrator.

  With a twist of his fingers, the card he’d been holding vanished. On his side of the mirror, he raised his hand and placed his palm against Alexi’s.

  Shock tore through her at the feel of his warm, callused hand against her palm. When his fingers interlocked with hers, Alexi gasped and tried to free herself, but he was too powerful.

  The man pulled, and she stared in horrified fascination as her hand and wrist slipped into the mirror. It felt like she was being drawn through a Jell-O wall.

  She struggled for real then, fighting to get away from his grip. “Let me go, you son of a bitch!”

  A predatory rumble rose up from the man and he yanked her arm. Alexi screamed and pitched forward, right through the mirror.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE WOMAN WAS A FIGHTER, and Darronn’s cock stiffened in appreciation of her fiery spirit. Even as he drew her toward him through the looking glass, the woman struggled. Her nipples poked against the flimsy material of her clothing and he scented her feminine heat, the desire that had flooded her while she had stared at him through the sorceress’s magical looking glass.

  Fear and fury blazed in her aqua eyes as he pulled her through and she shouted, “Let me go, you son of a bitch!”

  Lust raged through Darronn and he tired of waiting for his mate. With little effort, he tugged, and the woman screamed as he brought her into his arms.

  “Bastard!” she shouted as she slammed her right fist into his eye and rammed her knee into his groin.

  Searing pain in his cock and balls drove D
arronn to his knees, pain unlike any he had felt in his over two hundred Tarok years. White sparks burst in his head, fire burned through his groin, and fury flamed in his gut.

  How dare the wench strike the King of Spades?

  The woman whirled toward the looking glass and started to step through. With a roar, Darronn shifted into his white tiger form and tackled her, knocking her sideways. He used his massive paws to pin her flat on her back, her shoulders to the grass. Without putting all his weight on the woman, which would crush her, he settled between her thighs so that her entire body was immobile. He wasn’t about to let her kick his balls again, regardless of what form he was in.

  “Oh, shit,” the woman whispered as she stared up at him, the smell of her fear and the throbbing pulse at her throat affirming her terror. “Nice kitty?”

  Darronn roared with all the power of his species, and the woman’s face turned as white as a snowburst bloom. Fear was a good place to start teaching the wench a lesson.

  Alexi stared up at the tiger pinning her to the ground, and her mind hurtled through all her options. She was going to die. No, she wouldn’t accept death. There had to be a way to keep the beast from eating her.

  Adrenaline pumped through her body, causing every inch of her to tremble. Her back ached from landing so hard on the ground and her knuckles throbbed from that punch to the guy’s eye. She dared to glance away from the tiger to where she’d decked the man—but he wasn’t there. He must have fled when the beast jumped her, and left her as a meal for the huge tiger.

  Bastard!

  But wait, this couldn’t be real. Get serious, Alexi. Being yanked through a mirror and now trapped beneath a giant white tiger—this was nuts. She was having one hell of a nightmare.

  Her eyes met the predatory stare of the gigantic cat and chills rolled down her spine. No dream or nightmare had ever been this real, this vivid, this intense. Pebbles poked at her backside and grass tickled the exposed flesh on her arms, the base of her neck, and her ass, since the tiny skirt was now riding up around her waist. Wind blew through the meadow, ruffling the tiger’s glossy white and back-striped coat, and rustling the surrounding trees. The beast’s fur was soft against her bare belly and her hips—which didn’t make sense if he was a wild animal.