Chapter 13
“I really appreciate you bailing me out of jail,” Quentin said, patting Eamon on the back as they exited the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. “I want you to know that I intend to fight these bogus charges. You should’ve seen how this creep was all over Crystal. I’m sure that you would’ve decked him, too.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Eamon groaned as he squeezed the bridge of his nose, but it was too late. He could already feel the slow, throbbing sinus pain of a migraine coming on. Once he reached his Porsche, he scooped out his cell phone from his pocket and hit up Xavier on speed dial before climbing inside. He vowed if his brother didn’t pick up this time that he would be on a flight to Los Angeles to wring his neck for putting him in this babysitting mess before the sun set.
He was in the middle of tourist season and he had his hands full with everything from horny college students to diva dancers and finicky liquor distributors. He didn’t have the time to keep tabs on an overindulged, spoiled little rich boy. Quentin didn’t actively go out and look for trouble, but it found him all the same.
“One party,” Eamon muttered as he started up the car. “I let you host one party and next thing I know I’m posting bond and refunding ten grand to a customer who has to show up to his wedding with a black eye and fat lip.”
Quentin waved off Eamon’s complaint. “Refund? We don’t do refunds,” Q said.
“No. What we don’t do is send paying clients to the emergency room.” Eamon reached Xavier’s voice mail. “Damn it.” He hung up and tried his cell phone.
“I’m telling you. He was an asshole. Talk to the girls. They will back me up.”
Eamon simmered while he waited for the line to connect. There was no use in talking to Q. He had his own way of seeing and doing things. Like screwing up the liquor orders, arguing with the health inspectors or firing half the limousine drivers, because he thought they should be replaced with some of the ladies he met at the Bunny Ranch.
“All right. All right.” Quentin rolled his hand. “It won’t happen again. I said it. Are you happy now?”
Hardly.
“I’m sure that once the judge hears my side of the story, he’ll just toss the case right out.”
More simmering. “Xavier, answer this damn phone.”
“Hello.”
Shocked to finally hear his brother, Eamon’s voice stalled.
“Hello?” Xavier said again.
“I’m glad to hear that you’re still alive,” Eamon spat out. “That means I can still take great pleasure in killing you myself.”
Xavier chuckled. “It’s good to hear from you, too. What’s up?”
“Are you kidding me? Haven’t you been getting my messages? You know what’s up. It’s your turn to start taking care of that little project you signed me up for.”
Suddenly there was a loud blast of music over the line. “I’m sorry. What was that?” Xavier shouted over the music. “I can’t hear you.”
Eamon’s simmering morphed into a boil. “Don’t play,” he warned. “I’m not in the mood today.”
There was some loud chiming thing happening. “What are you doing? Clanging wineglasses together?”
“Shhhhhheeeeehhhhe. I’m sorry, but you’re breaking up,” Xavier lied.
“I don’t believe this.” Eamon punched the steering wheel.
“I’m going to have to call you back,” Xavier continued.
“Don’t do it. Don’t you dare hang up this phone.”
“Bye, bro.”
Click.
“Xavier?”
Silence.
“Xavier!” Eamon pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the small screen just to make sure that his brother had indeed disconnected the phone. “Son of a bitch.” He tossed the phone onto the console and then punched the steering wheel again.
Quentin calmly folded his arms. “You know, that little project has ears. And even I can understand that weak-ass code you’re transmitting.”
“You don’t say?” Eamon pressed his foot down on the gas pedal. Twenty minutes, several car honks and few birds tossed at some very bad drivers later, they arrived at The Dollhouse. However, Eamon’s anger was far from cooling.
Realizing that he had finally crossed some invisible line in the sand, Q tried to make some concession. “Tell you what. I’ll reimburse the asshole personally.”
“And the pending lawsuit that will undoubtedly be headed our way?”
“What? We don’t just collect those?”
Eamon’s jaw clenched tighter as he stormed into his office.
“That was supposed to be a joke, man. Lighten up.”
Eamon dropped into his chair, resting his elbows on the desk. “We need to talk.”
“Oh.” Quentin frowned. “To think at one time I only hated hearing those words from women. Now I’m pretty sure I just don’t like hearing them at all. It’s never followed by good news.”
“I think it’s time for you to go home.”
“What are you talking about? Las Vegas is like my second home. I love it here.”
“I’m not too sure that it loves you back. Plus, I appreciate your wanting to help. I really do, but it’s just not working out. Every time you do anything it means more work for me—and my plate was pretty full before you showed up. In case you haven’t noticed it takes a lot of work keeping a place like this going. And believe it or not, it has nothing to do with drinking on the clock and making sure the dancers have plenty of baby oil in their stations. This isn’t a game or an adult toy store. You are either going to have to start taking this place seriously or you just need to leave, cuz.”
Quentin frowned. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m part owner, too.”
Eamon tossed up his hands. “Then maybe it’s just time for us to buy you out.”
“Sorry. My share isn’t for sale.” Q folded his arms.
“Who are we kidding? You’re always for sale.” Eamon regretted the words the minute they came out of his mouth.
The blood seemed to drain from Quentin’s face. The reference to Q’s accepting money to marry the daughter of one of his father’s business partners in order to reclaim his inheritance wasn’t one of his finest moments and it likely cost him the love of his life. Had he not agreed to marry, then he would’ve won Alyssa’s hand years before she’d fallen for his brother Sterling.
Eamon pulled in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t so much out of line as it reeked from the horrible stench of truth.” He tried to flash a smile, but it fell flat. “But since we’re mucking around in the truth, let me toss out some more of it. I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes. And here’s a doozy. I don’t need a babysitter. So you can stop paying valets, housekeepers and limousine drivers to keep an eye on me. I find it offensive.”
Surprised and even impressed, Eamon leaned back in his chair. “All right. That sounds fair. But if you’re going to stick around, I prefer that you really try to pull your weight around here…and I do take checks for that bail money I posted this morning.” He smiled with a burgeoning new respect for his cousin.
“The check is in the mail.” Q winked. “In the meantime, I suggest you get used to seeing me around, cuz.” He marched toward the door and nearly ran into someone. “Well, excuse me, Ms. Gregory. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Eamon’s gaze shot up.
“I assure you that the pleasure is all yours,” she sniped and then sidestepped him in order to enter Eamon’s office.
Behind her, Quentin mouthed, “Trouble” and then got the hell out of there before she erupted. Judging by the smoke streaming out of her ears that looked like it would be any second now.
Like a light switch, Eamon’s mood flipped. “Well, well, well. If it’s not my favorite pussycat. It even looks like you’ve been sharpening your claws.” He quirked his mouth into a wicked smile as his gaze caressed her curves. Perfection.
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nbsp; “Only so that I can scratch your eyes out.”
“Aww. Now, do you really want to hurt me?”
Victoria planted her hands down on the desk and leaned forward. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Eamon followed her lead and eased forward until their faces were just inches apart. “You really shouldn’t joke about something like that. I might take you up on it.”
She literally growled.
“Tease.”
Victoria jerked herself up and then pulled out a thick envelope from her monster-size handbag. “What is this? You’re suing me now?”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who knows how to read. Not only would we have made beautiful babies, but they just might’ve made it to the thirteenth grade.”
“You’re trying to be funny?”
“Trying—but you’re a tough audience.”
She slammed the papers down onto the desk. “Defamation of character and sexual harassment? Sounds like our imaginary children would be extremely mentally disabled.”
“Possibly. But we would have had fun making them,” he said, refusing to be ruffled.
She blinked and shook her head. “This is just a joke to you.”
“No. The bit about the children was a joke. I’m serious about the lawsuit,” he said casually and then leaned back and kicked his heels up on the corner of his desk.
“Fifty million dollars?”
He shrugged. “It sounded like a nice round number.”
“You’re killing me.”
Eamon cocked his head and blinked his woeful brown eyes at her in a way that put Puss in Boots to shame. “Now, is this the face of a killer?”
Victoria was clearly at a loss for words.
“Besides, I’m looking forward to airing out our grievances in court.”
“This is not going to court. You’re going to withdraw this stupid suit.”
“And why in the hell would I do something like that?”
“Because the charges are a pack of lies and you know it. Sexual harassment. Please.” Her eyes raked him up and down. “If anyone was harassed, it was me. The moment you brought me back here in this office, you had me pinned against the wall. No doubt it’s a move that you’ve perfected in this sleazy strip joint.”
“Ah. Ah.” He waved a finger at her. “I run a classy establishment and I’m a pillar of my community. I doubt that you’ll be able to find anyone in this beautiful city that will say anything less. You know, that comment just supports that character-defamation part of my claim. You should watch those insults that you hurl around. Some of them actually hurt a bit.”
“And what if I dug up a few ex-girlfriends?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“Now, that might be a little stickier,” Eamon conceded.
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you have very little faith in people?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“It was just a guess.”
“I-did-not-harass-you.”
“That’s not how I remember it,” Eamon said.
“And how do you remember it?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll have a nice little story put together by the time we’re in court. I’ve been told that I have a very creative mind. I should’ve been a writer. I could’ve been a contender.”
“I think you’re fulfilling your destiny as a major asshole pretty well.”
“Such language coming out of such a pretty mouth,” he marveled. “Are you as turned on as I am?”
Charging around the desk, Victoria slapped his feet off the desk before leaning in and jabbing a finger into his chest. “I’m not going to let you make a fool out of me. You need to get that out of your head. I just got my name out of those snarky gossip pages. I’m not interested in going another round again.”
He just smiled and stared. “Stunning. You really are just stunning when you’re angry. All jokes aside, I’m really turned on.” He got a kick watching her incredulity deepen.
“Are you a moron?”
“No.” He shrugged. “Just horny. What do you say we close the door and do something about this sexual energy that’s charging between us? I might even let you scratch my back if you let me pull your hair.”
Slap!
Eamon smiled. “Help me out. Was that a yes or a no?”
Slap!
Before Victoria could register the stinging pain in her hand, Eamon’s arm snaked out and jerked her into his lap. She gasped. Not because of his speed but because of his erection pressed against her firm bottom. Her body was overwhelmed with memories and everything started tingling and quivering. Her anger melted away and Eamon knew it.
“Ahh. You remember this position, don’t you?”
She sucked in a breath, but didn’t dare trust herself to speak just yet.
“Yes. You do.” He reached up and brushed a few tendrils from the side of her face. “I believe the last time you were on my lap you were calling me a god or calling on God. Forgive me. My memory is a little hazy because…well. I was admiring and enjoying your riding skills.”
Victoria started to say something but then his hands started sliding up her leg.
“You know, since I’m a betting man, I’m willing to bet that you’re quite the equestrian, Princess.” He didn’t have to wait long for that familiar blush to rush to her face. “That is what ladies do in your high-society world, right?” Eamon’s hands floated higher and higher. “Long legs. Powerful thighs. I bet you have a whole display case full of trophies you’ve won.”
She pressed her lips together, but Eamon noted that she didn’t deny his claim or try to climb out of his lap.
“So what do you say? Are you in the mood for a little afternoon ride?”
Victoria swallowed while her gaze followed his hand.
“It’s okay, Princess. You can say yes. I won’t hold it against you.” His fingers disappeared under her skirt and he leaned forward to nibble on her right earlobe.
She closed her eyes and shivered.
Smiling, Eamon pulled back. “In fact, I’m willing to just let you use me however you like if it’ll put a smile back onto those beautiful lips of yours.”
Slowly, Victoria turned her head to see the sincerity in his lustful gaze.
“It’s your decision.” The tips of his fingers brushed against the seat of her crotch. “Do you want to stay and pretend we’re just fighting over ridiculous lawsuits or do you want to do what you really came here to do?”
Chapter 14
Victoria’s gaze lowered to Eamon’s lips while his invitation hung in the air. Her mouth started to water at the memory of his taste. One bite and she would be addicted again. She struggled to find that raging anger she had storming into his office, but it had vanished like a ghost. Now she was left vulnerable with her heart racing like a wild mustang.
It had been two weeks, or rather fifteen days, five hours and a little over seventeen minutes since she had the incredible pleasure. But it felt more like it had been forever. And hadn’t she done everything short of fasting and having an exorcism to try and get him out her system?
The seconds ticked by as she stared into his smoldering eyes and his hands grazed her crotch. This may have been too strong a temptation for her to overcome.
“So what do you want to do? I’ll respect whatever you decide,” he said. His voice dipped into a smoky baritone while that sexy smile sloped across his lips.
She twitched in his lap while her nipples ached. Somehow she managed to get her legs to work so that she could climb out of his lap.
Disappointment rippled across Eamon’s face.
Victoria turned and walked toward the door, quivering like the last fall leaf on the first day of winter. When she reached the archway, there was one last desperate scream from the back of her brain. Run!
It was the voice of reason, she knew. But it was soon overthrown by desire. She reached for the door and then slowly closed it and locked it. Taking a deep breath, her nerves calmed.
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“That’s a good girl,” Eamon praised. “Now, why don’t you come back over here and give me a proper hello?”
Victoria faced him. Damn, he was cocky as hell. Then again, hadn’t she known that? Didn’t she like it?
Instead of obeying, she remained close to the door. There, she slowly lifted her hands to the back of her head and removed the pins from her hair. When her thick hair fell like a heavy curtain, she shook and slid her fingers through it so that it would splay across her shoulders.
Eamon’s smile ticked higher.
Next, she took her time, reaching for the top pearl button of her silk blouse. Slow and easy. Pace yourself. The key to seduction is slow and graceful moves. So far it looked to be a good game plan because Eamon’s gaze tracked her manicured fingers like a bloodhound. By the time she undid the last button and peeled open her blouse, Eamon looked like his tongue was ready to roll out of his head.
I have the power now. She draped the blouse over the empty chair in front of his desk. Next she reached behind her pencil skirt, undid the top button and then pulled the tiny zipper down. The skirt pooled at her feet and she calmly stepped out of it before adding it to the chair.
Excitement and fire glowed in Eamon’s eyes as he eased back against his chair. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he confessed while his gaze tripped over her hourglass frame.
“How much?” she asked, her confidence returned.
He patted his lap. “Why don’t you come over here and let me show you?”
Victoria shook her head and then pivoted around giving him a full view of her sleek back and the peek-a-boo strings that hugged her hips and disappeared down the center of her well-toned ass cheeks. She didn’t have to see him to know where his eyes were locked. She could feel them like a lover’s caress.
“Hot damn,” Eamon whispered with a small tremor in his voice.
Her confidence soared while she smiled at the closed door and reached for the small bra hooks. Two seconds later, it was added to her small pile of clothes. Pivoting back, the sight of her full breasts caused Eamon to inhale a sharp breath as if he’d been gut-punched.
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