by Jami Denise
He stopped, tugging me back, and stood in front of me. His eyes found mine, and his hands went to my arms.
“What’s wrong?”
My eyebrows creased, confusion set in, and I shook my head. “Nothing. Why?”
His jaw ticked. “You tensed up.” His hand slid down my arm, and he grabbed my wrist, pressing his finger against it. “Your heart is racing.”
I took a deep breath and broke eye contact. I needed to talk to him about the situation I was in. Coming clean was the right thing to do. If I really, truly wanted something to happen between us, something real, I had to open up and give him all of myself. Who knew what he’d think after I gave him the big picture. As forgiving as he’d been, I wasn’t sure he’d want to be involved with something as shady as a kidnapping and extortion.
“We need to talk tonight.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Seriously, are you not okay with this? You can wait for me in the suite if you’d prefer. I want you next to me, but not if it’s going to upset you.”
Shaking my head, I leaned into him, pressing myself against the strength of his chest. “I don’t want to be anywhere you aren’t. It’s just that…” I sighed. “There are things you should know. If we’re going beyond sex, like you said, I should lay everything out on the line for you.”
He squeezed me hard against him. “We’ll talk, Janie, but there is nothing for you to worry about. Nothing will scare me away.”
I wasn’t convinced, but I also didn’t want it to ruin our night. “Let’s go. They’re expecting you.”
His look turned serious. “I mean it, Jayne. Nothing. After tonight, everyone will know you’re mine. No one comes near you again. Not unless they go through me.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Mr. Maguire.”
He smiled, kissed me hard, his tongue caressing mine and his arms going around me in the most possessive embrace I’d ever encountered. Right there, in the middle of The Maguire Grand, he marked me.
I was his.
“I’m a very smart man, Miss King. I always know what I’m doing.”
The table was packed, and the room was full of spectators. It was a much larger scale than I thought it would be, and I realized he was definitely making a statement having me there. There were velvet seated chairs off to the side, and one was marked with my name on it. Front and center.
He was in his element, and I found that, all things considered, I was as well. I was gifted with charm, and I’d easily won over every man in the room. It was very different, being Flynn Maguire’s woman. I’d always had attention, but I now had respect. The women envied me, and the men were curious. You could see the questions in their eyes, and the jealousy raging in their bones.
I swam in it, but my attention wasn’t on them. It was on Flynn. His face held a mask of concentration. I’d sat through enough of these tournaments to know what to expect, but this was a completely different experience. My father was a man of action, boisterous and obnoxious. He bragged, proved himself a fool most of the time, but Flynn was calm and collected, a man on a mission.
I could do nothing but watch. I didn’t want to take my eyes off him for a second. Watching him work was a thing of beauty. It gave me a new perspective on him and where his head was. He was nothing like the spoiled rich boy I thought him to be. Sure, he was definitely more fortunate than most, but it was secondary to his personality. He ran deeper than the money and lifestyle he was born into. He didn’t play poker for sport—it was his life.
“Mind if I sit, Miss King?”
I startled and looked up to find Doyle Maguire smiling down at me. He was a big man. Huge. Powerful, handsome, and built like a California Redwood. You could see the features he shared with Flynn—his broad shoulders, hazel eyes, and a smile that could melt a hardened criminal like butter.
But, he gave me an uneasy feeling, one that tangled up my nerves like a vining weed. I smiled, though, Jayne replacing Janie on stage.
“Please. Be my guest.”
He unbuttoned his jacket and sat, crossing one leg over the other. “I haven’t seen you around a poker table in quite some time. I take it your father is playing tonight?”
I was shaking. I clasped my hands together and hid them on my lap, my smile still firmly planted on my face.
“Not tonight, no.”
His eyebrows rose. “Ah, I see.”
Scared shitless, but sure that he already knew why I was there, I decided to be honest. He was, after all, Flynn’s father.
I looked over at the table and noticed the furious look on Flynn’s face. He looked torn, like he wanted to clear the table and take me away. I didn’t understand it. Was he angry that his father was there? Angry that I was talking to him?
“Actually, I came as Flynn’s date tonight.”
He chuckled. “That boy loves his whores. Tell me, Miss King. Is he getting his money’s worth?”
I gasped, but tried to keep a level head so Flynn wouldn’t become suspicious. I could handle this asshole, the same as I did every other rich, pompous man and their arrogant assumptions. Being that it was Flynn’s father, I had to tread carefully.
Holding my back straight and my smile tight, I answered. “We’ve become something beyond a business arrangement, Mr. Maguire. I’m here tonight as his girlfriend, not his whore. I’ve retired.”
I gave him a smile full of mirth and hate. The look on his face was all the retaliation I needed. He was shocked, that was perfectly clear. And pissed.
“Is that what he has you believing, Miss King? I thought you were a bright woman, but I was mistaken. You’re just like the rest. You’ll be gone by the end of the week. That I guarantee. My son will have his fill and you’ll be back on the streets, selling that second-class cunt.”
My body was in action before I could even think about it. I had to get away from him, consequences be damned. He’d hit on my insecurities, something very few could do, and I’d had enough. I’d had the best twenty-four hours of my life, and I wasn’t letting him take anything away from me.
I didn’t make eye contact with Flynn as I fled the room. He couldn’t afford to leave the table, and I didn’t want to burden him with his father’s poison. The doubt had set in, though. As badly as I wanted to suck it in and spit it out, it was there, filling my veins and taking me down.
My legs had no destination and my mind no plan. I was running, hiding from the disgust in that man’s eyes and the discrimination he spat at me.
For a man so filthy with wrongdoing, he sure loved to spew his hypocrisy. And that was the bitch. That man’s criminal undertakings were what kept Flynn in fancy cars and top-notch hotel suites. It funded his lifestyle, and the picture I’d began to paint of him melted before my eyes.
I couldn’t move fast enough. I was sick to my stomach and confused. Pushing my way into the ladies’ room, I groaned when I noticed it was packed. It wasn’t surprising—it was Labor Day weekend in Vegas. The casino was swarming with tourists, all ready for a good time and to lose all their money. All I wanted to do was disappear again, hide out in Flynn’s home, in his bed. With him.
I wormed my way through the throngs of cackling women and pushed myself to the sink. Turning the faucet on cold, I let the cool water run over my shaky hands. I lifted my fingers and dabbed at my eyes. When I looked in the mirror, I could see the red setting in and the puffiness in my lids. There was no way I was going back in that room that way.
“I love your dress.”
I looked over at the woman, smiling bright and looking like she had not a care in the world. In that moment, I envied her. I would’ve given anything to be her, carefree and oblivious on vacation with my friends.
I put on a smile. “Thank you.”
Her smile widened, causing her nose to wrinkle. Cute.
Not wanting to strike up conversation, I turned off the water, grabbed a tissue, and walked out. There was new determination in my step as I made my way back to the room where the tournament was takin
g place. Screw Maguire and his mouth. I’d been through worse, and I’d come out shiny. He could test me, he could even hurt me, but one thing he’d never do was break me.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Security was outside the door when I walked up, and after checking my ID, they led me back inside.
Briefly, Flynn looked up in my direction, and a small quirk of his lips told me he was glad I’d come back. I had a momentary glint of anger, childishly wishing that he’d come running after me, but stashed that away in the stupid girl part of my brain to trash later. He was busy. Working. We’d barely been dating, or whatever it’d be categorized, so expecting him to drop his livelihood to run after me was pretty pathetic.
I was glad to see that Doyle Maguire was nowhere to be found, but in the back of my head I knew he wasn’t far. I also knew he wasn’t done. What he’d said to me was just the beginning, and I had a feeling he’d get a hold of his son as soon as the tournament was over.
That terrified me. Their relationship was a mystery to me. Were they close? Would he listen to him? A bug in his ear could cause him to rethink his decision to pursue me as something more than a quick lay, and that devastated me.
The night dragged on, and after several painstaking hours, it was over. I’d never been more bored at a poker table in my life, but that was because I wasn’t used to being a spectator. I was used to hustling.
Flynn strolled over, his long legs taking slow, even steps as he made his way over. The man could really take over a room. Every movement was purposeful, like he knew everyone was looking at him and made sure to give them a reason.
We were similar that way, I realized.
“Congratulations,” I said as he approached. I raised my arms and threw them over his shoulders. “You’re quite handsome when you’re being serious.”
His arms went to my hips, and he drew me close, kissing me softly. “I had quite a bit at stake.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmm. You ready to get out of here?”
I thought he’d never ask. I’d been ready for hours.
“All I could think about was you, and that dress, and what’s underneath that dress.”
Strong, anxious hands slid around and grasped my ass, and the glimmer in his eyes was full of mischief. There was no getting used to the way Flynn’s hands felt on me.
“I might have a surprise underneath, just for you.”
“I think I might have a new favorite color on you,” he said, sliding his hands up and over my cheeks, and up against my shoulder blades. “Maybe you should wear green all the time.”
I had to admit that I loved the dress. I’d had it awhile and wore it frequently. It fit like a second skin, the color was rich and worked well with my features, and it showed a lot of skin in all the right places.
“Come on.”
His hand found mine, and before I knew it, he was dragging me out of the card room and down the hallway toward the elevators.
“Where are we going?”
He turned and grinned. “A surprise.”
I followed. I had no choice. The man owned my heart.
We’d just stepped up to the elevator when the inevitable happened.
“Flynn!”
I felt his whole body tense before turning to face the voice behind us. I shuddered, aware that everything could be over before it began. If his father got to him, I was as good as in a cab and on my way back to my shitty rented townhouse.
“Wait here.”
It wasn’t a request. Several things played in my head. One, he was ashamed to be seen with me, or two, he was ashamed of his father.
I was hoping for the latter.
“Flynn,” I protested.
“Stay. Put. I mean it, Jayne.”
Doyle was rapidly approaching, and I realized that either way, I would hear what he had to say unless they walked away. I didn’t want to be left alone, not knowing if he’d come back to retrieve me. I felt sick.
“Son, I need a word with you.”
Flynn’s eyes fell closed and he shook his head. “Please. Stay right here. I’ll only be a minute.”
Desperate, I reached up, cupped his face with my hands and kissed him, hard. I wanted to remind him that I was real, what I felt was real. Regardless of what happened, I loved him. I couldn’t say it, wouldn’t say it, but I did. It was deep in my belly and I’d felt it for a while. It was insane, it was impossible, but I knew what I was feeling was deeper than lust. It was more than an attraction or connection. It was inside my soul.
I loved him.
He matched the intensity of my kiss and every emotion I was trying to convey. He loved me, too, and the power in that realization gave me the faith that we could make it happen. For the first time ever, I had hope. I had something to fight for, something just for me. I wanted it, all of it, and he was going to stand for it right alongside of me.
“Baby,” he whispered. “Don’t leave. Be here.”
I nodded, laying my head against his chest and grasping the back of his shirt in my fists. My heart cried out for him to stay where he was, but whatever it was between him and his father had to be dealt with, and so I let go.
Kissing the top of my head, he turned and walked toward his father. I backed myself up against the wall next to the elevator and clasped my hands together in front of me to hide the shakes. The way Doyle Maguire stood watching his son approach gave me the chills. There was something evil about him, dark and frightening. Knowing that he was a cruel man was one thing. Seeing it with my own two eyes was another.
Men like him didn’t get to where they were by being human. They gave away their souls for money and power and prestige. The disgust for him was thick in my throat, a bitter taste I wanted to spit out on his shoes. My mind and body battled as I watched Flynn approach him, wanting so badly to protect him from the man that gave him life.
After seeing a softer side of Flynn, the side I found to be the real man behind the beautiful eyes and handsome face, I wondered how it was that he was raised by such a sick fuck.
They started talking, and I strained my ears to listen to them. It was probably wrong, but I had to know what was going on.
“Will you join me downstairs? We have some things to talk about,” Doyle said, looking over Flynn’s shoulder to where I stood.
“Why are you here?”
Doyle chuckled, shoving his meaty hands in his pockets and rolling back on his heels. “You’re not going to introduce me to your new friend?”
Flynn cursed, and his fists balled up at his sides. “Leave her alone. Say what you need to say, and leave.”
“You have obligations, Son. Have you forgotten?”
Flynn leaned forward and snapped. “Those are your fucking obligations. That has nothing to do with me at all.”
“We’ll see. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. I heard something today, and it doesn’t make me happy.”
“What was that?” Flynn asked, irritated.
“I think you know. I think you’re sticking your nose into things you shouldn’t, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Stop fucking with me. What do you want?”
Flynn’s voice echoed in the hallway, causing me to flinch. He was angry, and by the look on Doyle’s face, he was enjoying it.
“I hope she’s worth it, Son.”
With that, he gave me a wicked smile and turned, walking in the other direction.
Was he angry that Flynn was paying me? He knew from the get-go that I was an escort—he’d made that clear. It made me wonder if he had more of a hold on what Flynn did with his finances than I’d originally thought. I was sure Flynn was more independent of his father, seeing that he was a successful gambler. He’d just won close to five million dollars in a single game. I was confused, troubled.
Flynn took several minutes to gather himself after his father walked away, and I struggled with running to him. He obviously needed a moment to
get himself together. I hated that I was a problem between the two of them, but not enough to give up what I felt for him. I just hoped he felt the same about me. I couldn’t stand it if he walked away now.
He turned, and when he saw me, I watched all the tension in his face wash away. It was something like relief, mixed with a heat in his eyes that I had come to crave.
He stalked over, his eyes becoming darker and darker as he got closer. I opened my mouth to say something once he was within reach, but his mouth against mine stopped any and all words from breaking free.
My back was up against the wall, pressed firm by his solid chest. His hands went to my hips, fingers digging roughly into my flesh as he invaded my mouth. As intense as it was, there was tenderness there, words not fertile enough to be spoken were shared with his tongue on mine, and my limbs went limp against him. In his arms, I allowed myself to let go.
The kiss slowed, but his hold on me continued to demand my attention. As his lips moved from my mouth down my throat, his hands slid down to my thigh, his fingers playing at the hem of my dress. His breathing was ragged. There was a war raging inside of him, and I could feel the need to possess.
“I need to taste you,” he growled. “I want you all over me.”
I gasped as his hand found the inside of my thighs and the lack of barrier. Fingers rubbed, and my knees threatened to collapse. I felt him reach around me and push the button for the elevator, jabbing it desperately.
“You wanted me to touch you this way, anywhere I wanted, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I cried. “I always want you to touch me.”
He chuckled, dark and promising. “I want to lick you until you’re screaming, begging. I want to suck that pussy until I get my fill. Mine. My fucking pussy.”
God, if I hadn’t been turned on by the kiss, his filthy mouth did it. He’d talked dirty, had ordered me around, but there was something so innately primal about the way he was so frantic and possessive that pushed me over a ledge.
“I want every man in that room when I return to know that you’re all over my skin. I want them to know you’re on my lips, my hands, and my cock. They’ll feel, smell, and see your mark on me, that I own you.”