Dark Room (Society X #1)

by L. P. Dover

  I freeze with my glass at my lips. “How did you know I was drinking?”

  He chuckles. “How long have I known you now? Your voice changes when you drink. You talk slower . . . sexier even . . . which I would’ve thought was impossible.”

  “Oh,” I respond, biting my lip. “I’ll take that as a compliment. The same goes for you too.” Holy shit, did I just say that? He laughs and I want to kick myself in the ass. “Okay, I think I’m done making a fool of myself. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I hang up quickly, feeling like a complete dumb ass. My phone rings again and I’m almost tempted not to answer, but when I look at the screen, it’s not Parker. “Jared, what’s up?” I answer.

  “Just calling to let you know I have you down with the same partner for the dark room, in two days. So it’ll be this Thursday.”

  “That long?” The words fly out of my mouth before I can reel them back in. “Sorry about that. Two days just seems like a long time to wait.” I laugh uncomfortably.

  “We’ve been getting booked here recently.”

  “Oh, I understand. I’ll be there,” I say happily.

  “Great, I’ll see you then. And make sure to come a few minutes earlier than usual. I need to give you your Society X gift.”

  “Sounds good.” We hang up and I lounge back on the couch, closing my eyes. I envision the dark room and the way it excites me. I can feel hands on my body and soon realize it’s me touching myself. I imagine it’s him. He squeezes my breasts and pops my nipple into his mouth, drawing that delicious ache to spike between my legs. My underwear is soaked as I slide my hands up my skirt and spread my legs.

  The second my palm closes over my clit, I know it won’t be long. I’ve been deprived for too long. Slipping a finger inside, I push it in, rocking my palm against the ache. My breasts are heavy, and I squeeze as hard as I can, driving myself to completion. Pleasing myself only gets me so far. I need more. It’ll just have to do for now.

  When I step into Lucky’s, I’m a different guy. Not a single one of the men in here gives a shit about my job or checking account. It’s good to get a break from the daily stress of being me. Only just this morning, my mug was splashed all over the news because my recent acquisition of a Miami golf course turned out to be a hot bed for illegal activity; the news is always looking for a reason to put me under the microscope. Most journalists can’t accept the fact Ward Enterprises is on the up and up.

  My first stop is the bar, where I grab a beer. I’m not here to impress anyone, but I’m also not looking to get drunk. I just want to enjoy the night with my buddies and try to keep my best friend’s sister off my mind, which seems to be impossible since I hired her. Why had I insisted her office be next to mine? Now I spend my days watching her like the fucking creepy bastard I apparently am.

  I easily find Andrew and the rest of the guys in the back of the bar. Their boisterous laughter rings out over the crowd, showing the onlookers we’re a tight knit group and outsiders aren’t welcome.

  “Well if it isn’t the man who stole my best employee.” Andrew slaps me on the back and pulls me in for a hug. I’m not the least bit sorry I stole Mia out from under him. I know she loves her brother, but the fact he hadn’t hired anyone to replace her earlier or encouraged her to follow her dreams, doesn’t sit well with me. Mia has a talent most women, and some men, desire.

  “Oh, she came willingly,” I say, keeping myself from waggling my eyebrows. I can imply sexual innuendos about any other woman, but not his sister. If you want to see a man come unhinged, make a comment about Mia; Andrew is beyond protective of her. Not that I blame him.

  I shake hands with the rest of the guys and take a seat on an empty stool, making sure to drink my beer before it gets too warm. “I want the next game,” I announce, nodding toward the pool table.

  Andrew is running the table on these guys and for the life of me I can’t understand why they continue to play him. Mia and Andrew’s father spent a summer in Vegas when he was in college, learning the art of billiards and mastering the technique of hustling. He happily taught his children how to make money in bars, while making others look stupid.

  Andrew clears his throat and nods toward the door. “Incoming, Ward.”

  I groan when I see who it is. Walking into our area is Peter Fields, with two other guys I don’t know. Peter and I have an unkind history. My grandfather bought his father’s company about ten years ago and by all accounts, the Fields should’ve been on their way to a nice retirement. However, the senior Mr. Fields didn’t invest or put any money away, and within a year, the family was broke. He came crawling back to my grandfather, asking for his company back and even tried to sue Ward Enterprises, which only landed him deeper in debt.

  Peter is an investigative reporter and the root of my media problems. He blows everything out of proportion and misquotes every word I say. At first, I tried to help him along by giving him the deals I was closing before the other outlets. But he’s in favor of undermining me whenever he can. So now I make a habit of making his life miserable.

  He sits down next to me with a smug look on his face. “I hear Ward Enterprises is in a bit of hot water,” he scoffs as he raises a martini glass to his lips. I haven’t a fucking clue as to what he’s talking about, but I’ll play along.

  “I’m sure the water is tepid at best, Fields. It never seems to get too hot for me to handle.”

  “Is that what you think? If so, you’re stupider than I thought.”

  Where the fuck does he get off saying I’m stupid? I take a large swig of my beer, leaving a small bit in the bottom, and slam the bottle down on the table next to him. It shoots out, splashing on his shirt. I can’t help but smirk at the childish act.

  “See what I mean?” he says, over my laughter.

  “That’s not stupidity, Fields, it’s immaturity. I’d think someone in your profession would know the difference.” I leave him there and walk back to the bar. This time, I order a couple of pitchers of beer and flirt mildly with one of the bartenders. She’s cute, with long red hair, and I find myself tempted to ask if the carpet matches the drapes, but I refrain.

  I only have to hold out one more day until I’m back in the dark room with my mystery girl, who has Mia’s face and is consuming every fantasy and daydream. It’s fucking sick and twisted to think of Mia like that. She should be cherished, not fucked.

  Tomorrow, my lover will receive her necklace. The custom piece cost me a small fortune, but it’s important to me she doesn’t feel like a whore. I also want her to stand out among the masses of women who are members there.

  As soon as I’m back to the tables, Mia has arrived and is being chatted up by none other than Peter Fields. My blood boils and my hands clench into tight fists. This caveman act of mine is really starting to piss me off. Mia is free to do what she wants, and with whom she chooses, whether I like it or not. Truth be told, I want her doing me, but that’ll never happen. Only in my lust filled fantasies will I see her on her knees with her plump red painted lips wrapped around my cock.

  “Mia and I have the next game,” Fields announces, making my skin crawl.

  “Bullshit,” I yell out, much to everyone’s surprise. “She’s my partner for the night.” Peter scowls and Mia’s eyes go wide. She nods quickly, side-stepping Peter’s outstretched hand and walking right into my awaiting arm. My body sighs when her hand wraps around my waist and her head rests against my chest. She’s a perfect fucking fit.

  “I called her first,” Peter snaps, showing everyone how petulant he is.

  “She’s not a piece of property, Fields. Mia came here tonight to play pool with me.” In this exact moment, I make eye contact with Andrew and Mia’s best friend, Rachel. Both of them are looking at us with their eyebrows raised. I already know I’m in deep shit, but it’s worth it not to watch Peter rub his fucking pickle all over Mia’s ass tonight.

  “Parker’s right,” she says to Peter as her hand rests on my chest. I glance quic
kly down at my pants, thankful I’d decided to change into jeans before arriving, because I’m sporting a semi. Life was a bit easier when I thought she was dating Zac because I didn’t have a problem being a dick to her.

  “I’ll be your partner,” Rachel says to Peter.

  “Yeah, she’s really good,” Andrew says as his face breaks out in a smile. I stifle a laugh, knowing full well she can’t play worth shit. It’ll be easy to beat them. Peter jumps at the opportunity because Rachel is hot, and a wicked flirt. It dawns on me he’s never seen Mia play, which works in my favor.

  “You can break,” I call out as I walk over to the rack, looking for a decent cue stick. Mia follows and reaches for one, brushing her arm against mine. “Let them win,” I whisper into her ear, immediately regretting I’m so close. I move away before I can do something stupid like breathe in deeply.

  “Why?”

  I look over her shoulder to see what Peter’s doing. He’s deep in conversation with Rachel, while Andrew finishes his current game.

  “Let them win one, then we’ll run the table on the rest of the bar. More people will start to show up.” Mia looks at me skeptically. I know she hates to lose, but sometimes it’s for the best. “Trust me,” I say, placing my hand on her hip.

  “You owe me.”

  “I already gave you an executive job, and an office with a view . . . what could I possibly have that you would want now?” I wink at her and step away, leaving her to think about what else I could give her. My own list is short: my dick, cock, fingers, tongue, and mouth. I do realize it’s only three, but I’m the only one counting.

  Peter breaks, sinking both solids and stripes, gloating about it as he walks around the table, looking for a way to clear it. Mia’s looking too, and commenting on all the pretty colors, much to Andrew’s delight and mine.

  “Solids.” He lines up for his next shot. The ball barely falls into the pocket, allowing him to continue. His next shot doesn’t go as planned, stopping short of its destination.

  “I’ll go,” Mia says, moving around the table. She runs her hand along the felt, brushing her hand in front of the cue ball.

  “I’m hittin’ the head,” Andrew says, knowing it takes Mia a while before she finds the perfect shot.

  Having her go first works to our advantage. Her technique is slow and steady wins the race, making Peter impatient. From where I’m sitting, it looks like he’s stomping his foot.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” he asks, causing Mia’s head to pop up. “I can show you, if you’d like.”

  “No thanks. I think my partner’s got it taken care of,” she says in the most innocent tone, sending vibrations straight to my groin. I groan, thankful for the noise in the bar, as I go over to her. I really want to tell her no, but I don’t want anyone else touching her.

  I saddle up behind her and take a deep breath. She bends over, sticking her ass right into my crotch. It takes everything in me not to grab her hips and thrust, not caring that we’re in a public place.

  Clearing my throat, I step aside, leaving my hand on her hip. “You want to do this,” I say, as I take her hand and position it on the cue stick. My other hand reaches around her, holding the end of the stick. When she starts to move the stick and her hips, I just about lose my shit.

  “I think you got it,” I say, stepping away. She stands abruptly, hitting the cue ball and ending our turn. Thank God for small miracles, because at this rate, I want to lose this game and go the fuck home.

  Something's got to give soon. I can’t keep thinking about her on her knees, or spread out on my bed, when she’s my best friend’s sister. Besides, she works for me. She’s entirely off-limits now. I made sure of that the day I hired her. I’m not about to break my vow of no workplace hook-ups.

  If she and I were ever to be together, I’d have to fire her and I won’t do that either.

  “Mia, that’s fabulous!” Charles gushes. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve done. Does Mr. Ward know how amazing you are?”

  I laugh. “I sure hope so, but I’m not telling him about this. I want it to be a surprise.”

  “It’ll definitely be one, for sure. Do you want to meet for lunch on Monday? I’d love to see what you’ve come up with.”

  Smiling, I finish the last touches of my sketch and close the notebook. “Sounds good. I’ve just completed the final drawing.”

  “Excellent! How about noon at the Rose Café?”

  “I’ll be there. See you Monday.” We hang up and I can’t help but feel ecstatic.

  Soon, if everything goes as planned, everyone will be able to buy my designs. I needed a big break like this, and it’s magically fallen in my lap—thanks to Parker. It almost feels too good to be true.

  Time seems to be moving fast, but every time I look at the clock, barely a minute has gone by. I’m nervous and I know it’s because I’m meeting my mystery guy in the dark room tonight. Sometimes, I wonder what the hell I’m doing.

  I’ve just about finished for the day when a knock sounds on the door. “Mia?”

  The way Parker says my name makes me shiver. He walks in and the memories from the night before come flooding back. I can still feel his hands on my hips and the way his arousal stirred when I pushed my ass into him. Too bad he’s off limits.

  “Hello, stranger. Where have you been today?” I ask.

  Grinning widely, he shuts the door and takes the seat across from my desk. “Meetings. The joy of owning my own company.” He looks perfect in his suit with his hair neatly coifed to make him look professional. I remember when he’d run his hands through it and call it good. So much has changed over the years. He’s still the same, but yet not.

  Parker points to my files. “Everything good on the Les Belle account?”

  I slide the files back into my desk and smile. “It’s going great. I have a surprise for you, but I can’t tell you yet. I think you’ll be proud of me. Mr. Wainright is ecstatic.”

  “I’m intrigued.” His brows lift. “See? I knew I made the right decision bringing you on.”

  My phone beeps and Mrs. Jones’s voice comes over the speaker. “Ms. Hudson?”

  “Yes.”

  “Peter Fields is on line two.”

  My gaze finds Parker. His jaw clenches and he looks ready to kill. He and Peter don’t get along and Peter’s play on me last night didn’t help matters.

  “Why the hell is that fuck calling you?” he growls.

  Line two flashes on my phone. I shrug and meet his gaze. “Obviously, he found out I work for you. I didn’t mention it last night.”

  “You mean, when he was trying to get in your pants?” He huffs and sits back in the chair. “He probably just wants to stir shit up with me.”

  Instead of picking up the phone, my finger hovers over line two. I don’t care if Parker can hear the conversation. I have nothing to hide. “I guess we’re about to find out.” Taking a deep breath, I press line two. “This is Mia Hudson.”

  His obnoxious voice blares over the speaker. “Mia, it’s Peter Fields. How are you?”

  Rolling my eyes, I lift my voice in excitement. “I’m doing well. What about you?”

  “Can’t complain. Busy as usual.”

  “I bet. So how did you know I worked for Ward Enterprises?” Parker leans over on his elbows, his murderous glare focused on the phone.

  “I went by the gym looking for you, and your brother said you quit. I didn’t realize you and Mr. Ward were so close.”

  I clear my throat and avoid Parker’s stare. “We go way back. He was kind enough to offer me a job in my area of expertise.”

  “Which is?”

  “Fashion design,” I say, trying not to sound impatient. “So, what can I do for you today, Mr. Fields?”

  “Ah, yes. I tend to lose focus when speaking to beautiful women.” Parker rolls his eyes and I stifle a laugh. “I was wondering if you were free tonight. We didn’t get much time to talk yesterday and I wanted to remedy that.”


  Eyes wide, I glance at Parker. He turns his head, the muscles in his jaw tensing. Deep down, I secretly wish he’s jealous, instead of angry that Peter’s trying to get to me. “Peter, I’m sorry, but I have plans tonight.” In the dark room.

  “Oh, I see. What about tomorrow?”

  I silently groan, wishing like hell I never picked up the phone. “Peter, I don’t think that’ll be such a great idea. I’m kind of seeing someone right now. But thank you for the offer.”

  He sighs. “I understand. Maybe when you’re free you’ll think of me?”

  That’ll never happen. “Of course. Thanks again for calling. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Not that I’m looking forward to it.

  “Sounds good, Mia. Have a great weekend.”

  “You too.” We hang up and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank God that’s over. I can’t imagine going out with that ass-wipe.”

  Parker rests his elbows on my desk, his gaze serious. “Are you seeing someone, or did you lie just to get out of the date?”

  I open my mouth to speak but then shut it, my heart racing out of control. Who is the guy in the dark room to me? I’ll never know his name or who he is, but he’s still a part of my life. He’s the man I know I can never have, just like the man sitting in front of me. With a shrug of my shoulder, I meet his stare.

  “I didn’t lie. In my own way, I am kind of seeing someone right now. It’s a little complicated.”

  He nods. “I see. Do I know who he is?”

  A laugh escapes my lips. I don’t even know who he is. “No.” The room falls silent and I scramble for anything to break it. “So, do you have plans tonight? It is a Friday after all.”

  “I do,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. He’s agitated.

  “Oh yeah? What are you doing?”

  He shrugs. “I guess you can say it’s complicated.”

  “Are you dating someone?” I haven’t seen him with any women recently. The thought of him with another woman infuriates me. Maybe I’m the jealous one. I’m hoping he’ll say no, but that’s not what comes out of his mouth.