by Skylar Cross
Flame:
The Stark Affair Book 2
by
Skylar Cross
Copyright 2014 D2Rev Publishing / Skylar Cross
First edition
October 29, 2014
Promotion: Mark My Words Book Publicity (markmywordsbookpublicity.com)
Cover design: Romantic Book Affairs (designs.romanticbookaffairs.com)
Concept/Story Editing: Cathy Yardley (rockyourwriting.com)
Editing: Missy Borucki (missyborucki.com)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All characters depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to Morgan Black, Brina Courtney, Rachel Marks, Cathy Yardley, Missy Borucki, Letitia Hasser, Dede Nesbitt, Babel Td, Kayla Ann Bennerotte, LaTashia Outlaw, all the amazing bloggers who promote me, and everyone who reads my books and cheers me on. I so appreciate you.
Chapter 1
Colton
As soon as I saw her I knew it was her.
Don’t know how. I just knew.
Maybe it was the way she looked at me, right through me, with those penetrating brown eyes. Gorgeous. Intelligent. Determined.
And humorously out of place.
I swear the music stopped. Actually, the entire world stopped as I swam in her eyes.
We seemed to hold on together for a few long moments. Breaking the connection, she moved toward the bar. Some chubby guy joined her.
Two things are for sure. One, she’s the cop they sent. Obvious. I know cops a mile away.
Second, I could study that face for days. Might even want to paint it.
And I don’t paint.
Fuck it, I’ll learn how.
I tried not to laugh as I chatted her up. It was almost as if she was trying to act like the usual girls I talk to.
But she didn’t stand a chance. Too much intelligence behind the eyes. Too much awareness of her surroundings. Taking everything in, recording it, mapping it.
God, I love that. So refreshing.
Not to mention the fact that she didn’t swoon all over me like every other girl.
I sensed she wanted to but was distracted by something.
I was right. She excused herself and went toward the restrooms, but didn’t go in the ladies’ room. Instead, she had a conversation with Jag, my restroom attendant, and went in the men’s room. A girl came out of the men’s room looking dazed. I watched her find her friends who sat with her on a couch.
Then I saw Sofia emerge with a lowlife in tow, heading out the side door.
Nobody knows there’s a side door. That alone is impressive.
Immediately, I figured out the situation and called Ziv, my manager. He said he would take care of Jag and send down a replacement.
I walked out the side door onto the street.
There was something primal watching her beat up that guy. My dick got hard all by itself as her fist rammed into his nose.
That never happens anymore.
Used to. All the time.
Now girls are just girls.
But this one... brains and toughness... not to mention that body.
Holy fuck!
I could be in some serious trouble.
She was about to leave but I talked her into a drink on the roof deck.
Now I’m leading her back in through the club, then over to a private door. A stairwell is in front of us.
She follows me up.
I pull the chair out for her. She looks around, but I can’t tell if she’s impressed or not. Most girls are in awe at the private little outdoor dining room I have up here with its spectacular view of the beach and Ocean Drive on one side and the city on the other.
Enrique arrives from the other stairwell, a tray in hand.
He places two mojitos on the table between us.
“Graçias, Enrique,” I say.
Enrique just nods and disappears as fast as he arrived.
I pick up my drink and raise it.
“To kicking ass,” I say.
She smiles. A real one. It is spectacular. The lights of the city don’t even come close.
She picks up her drink.
“To kicking ass,” she says. Her voice is all diaphragm, a growly challenging tone. My dick moves.
“Hope you actually wanted the mojito,” I say. “I could get you a protein shake or some Gatorade if you prefer.”
She shoots me a dirty look. She can do that all night long. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have three other guys that need their asses kicked and I was going to send this guy Bruno but I thought I’d ask you instead.”
“Funny, Mr. Billionaire Colton Stark.”
Oh, God, I love the way she says Mr. Billionaire Colton Stark. Like she’s completely unimpressed. Not to mention the way she swears so easily.
My dick is fully hard now. That used to happen all the time when I got a girl up here, but it’s been a while. Months. No, years.
Goddamn.
This girl, Colton? Really?
She has a masculine edge, even though she’s all girl. Muscular shoulders. A hint of biceps. Solid legs. Nice curves, though. Perfect ass, that’s for sure. Couldn’t help staring at it as she pushed that guy out the side door.
I think I’ll just lose myself in her eyes a little more.
Chapter 2
Sofia
Shit, what’s going on? Did I blow this or not? He must have figured out I’m a cop by now.
Oddly, I don’t seem to care. I’m lost in the netherworld of those amazing eyes. They’re like vast universes to explore.
Not to mention they keep staring at me like they’re trying to see into my soul. If he keeps that up, I’m in trouble.
Criminal, Sofia! He’s a criminal! Stop it!
“So what brings you to Heat tonight?” he says.
His voice is deep, but with a soft and velvety edge. Like it bypasses his throat completely and comes out of his massive chest.
“Wanted to check it out. I’ve heard so much about it.”
“Where?”
I take a sip of my mojito. “Some website. MiamiImproper.com, I think.”
He snorts again. “You don’t strike me as the type of girl to read MiamiImproper.com. Which is now defunct anyway. You must have done a Google search.”
Damn, this guy is smarter than I thought. And taller. And bigger. His shoulders stretch the fabric of the shiny shirt. As he turns, I see his chest muscles grow and shrink.
Zing!
Damn. My clit is throbbing.
This can’t be happening to me.
Time to take charge. I’ve got to throw his challenge back at him.
“So what are you saying? That I’m not a party-girly-girl?”
“You’re not,” he says.
“And what leads you to this conclusion, Mr. Bigshot Billionaire?”
His eyes widen and he shifts in his seat, tugging on his pants.
“Because, Ms. Badass,” he says, “a party-girly-girl would never refer to herself as a party-girly-girl. She would also never come here alone. Not to mention kick a guy’s ass like that. You box?”
Oooh, I like the way he calls me Ms. Badass. Yep, panties getting soaked now.
Control yourself, Sofia! You’re a goddamned professional!
I take a deep breath, uncrossing and re-crossing my legs.
�
��Used to,” I say.
“Me too.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yeah, got into it in college. Trained with a street hoodlum in East Cambridge while I was at MIT. Went semi-pro for a couple of years under the name Johnny Eszterhaus.”
I get a mental picture of him in the ring pounding on another guy. Shoulder muscles flexing and sweating under that glorious tattoo.
That’s it, I’m melting. Don’t know how else to describe it. I think if he touched me, I would dissolve into jelly.
Steady, Sofia, steady!
Fuck it. Whatever. I can’t seem to fight it. Go ahead, baby. Flow.
I take a huge gulp of my drink.
Dios mio, that’s strong.
“Why the fake name?” I say.
“Family shit. My dad thought I was being an idiot. He wanted me to go to Wharton. I wanted to knock out Floyd Mayweather.”
“So what happened?”
“I never knocked out Floyd Mayweather.”
“Shocking.”
He looks down. “And, my dad died.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“I’m not. He was the world’s biggest prick. I had to become the face of his business.”
“Which is now your business.”
“Ha, that’s a laugh. I’m the face of Stark Worldwide for the press. Just a puppet. It’s controlled by my dad’s bestie, Jasper van der Voort, and the Board.” He pauses and frowns while folding his arms. “Why am I telling you all this, Sofia? It is Sofia, right?”
“Yes, it’s Sofia.”
“Are you sure it’s Sofia?”
“Yes,” I say.
Although it came out as yesh.
Oh God, the alcohol is hitting me.
“What do you do, Sofia?”
His eyes narrow as he purses his lips. I imagine those lips forcefully pressing against mine, his tongue probing my mouth without mercy, his stubble grazing my face.
“I’m a student,” I say. I had an entire spiel planned for this.
“Student,” he repeats.
Fuck, he’s definitely onto me. He’s not buying that. Alarm bells go off.
“Yes, I’m studying criminal forensics at FIU.”
He takes a sip of his drink and leans forward. “You are no student.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re a cop.”
Shit.
I look directly into his eyes. He knows. He knows I know he knows.
Zing!
Something about the way he called me out so directly is so fucking hot.
But the fact remains I’m blown. I’m a complete failure. This assignment is trash. I’m going to be sent back to the Pit. Some fucking detective I turned out to be. Maybe my dad is right.
“Look, I’d better go,” I say as I slurp down the last of my drink.
“No, it’s okay. I like cops. Have a friend at MPD. Goffman. Know him?
I begin to stand up. “No, I’m not a cop. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m also leaving.”
“C’mon, you blew whatever it was by letting me see you kick that guy’s ass. Gotta work on that, officer. OCS?”
Fuck me.
I grit my teeth and nod.
He leans back, putting his hands behind his head. “Hmm, next time I’d go with bodyguard instead of student. More convincing.”
I stand.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark,” I say.
“It’s Colton,” he says. “And, you’re not going anywhere.”
“Look, you know who I am. I blew it. We can drop the charade. I’m leaving.”
I pick up my purse and move toward the stairs.
“Let’s go for a ride in my Bentley,” he says as he gets up.
“Yeah, right. That may work on your usual party-girly-girls, but Bentleys don’t impress me, Mr. Billionaire Playboy. I’m going home.”
I reach the door to the stairs.
He’s now up and following me.
“Goodbye,” I say as I open the door.
He moves toward me, grabs my arm, and turns me toward him. My self-defense mechanism activates, but I sense he’s prepared for it. His grip is just forceful enough.
I look up into his eyes.
Which is a huge mistake.
Because they’re deep. Dark. And penetrating.
My knees go weak.
He moves his hands up to my shoulders, freezing me in place.
And kisses me.
I can’t believe it, but I let him.
It’s a hard forceful kiss. His tongue finds mine.
Oh, God.
No, Sofia! Don’t! You’re kissing a criminal!
I push him back. I have too much self-respect to allow this to happen.
“I’m leaving!” I say in my officer-in-charge voice. His eyes go wide. I swear I see his cock move in his pants. I wonder what it looks like. My hand drifts down his shirt from where I pushed him away.
Stop, Sofia!
“Goodbye!” I say and walk into the stairwell. I need to get the fuck out of here and figure out what I’m going to tell LaTashia.
He follows me down the stairs.
“This way,” he says, taking me straight down another access stairwell that opens into the very same alley out back, completely bypassing the club, thank God.
We step out of the darkness and over to the side street. There’s still some blood on the ground from Dickwad’s nose.
I turn and face him, my arms folded.
“Thank you for the drink,” I say.
“I’ll walk you to your car. Not that you can’t handle yourself.”
“Very fucking funny. No, please don’t. I’d rather just go.”
The look I give him tells him I’m serious. Even though a part of me longs to stay. I’ve got to get out of here and get a handle on all the conflicting thoughts in my head.
“Fine,” he says. “You win. But I want to see you again, Officer Sofia Badass. Tell you what, let’s meet in a place you’ll feel comfortable. Monday at three at Tony’s Gym on 14th Street.”
Is he serious?
“For what?”
“So I can kick your ass at boxing.”
I laugh. “Don’t. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”
He takes a step forward.
“I’ll destroy you,” he growls with a squint that makes me think he really believes he could.
Ha!
I laugh. Shit, maybe I can still work this. Maybe I can get the info I need even though he knows who I am. Think about it. I’ve already blown it. What could I possibly lose by spending more time with him?
Not to mention, I’d love to see the expression on his face when I knock him senseless.
“Fine, Mr. Billionaire Playboy,” I say. “Monday at three. Tony’s Gym on 14th.”
“Monday at three,” he says. “Tony’s Gym on 14th.”
I turn and walk toward Collins.
“Hey!” he says. I stop and look back.
“You’re going down.”
I give him the finger and walk away.
Monday at three.
Me and Colton Stark.
Boxing.
Hm.
Chapter 3
Colton
I can’t get those damned eyes out of my head.
Big and brown. Surrounded by thick lush black lashes. Staring up and into me with a look that says go-ahead-and-try-it-asshole.
My cock twitches in my car seat. I adjust myself and try to re-focus on the road.
I’m on my way to The Talon Group, crossing the Venetian in the morning sunshine. I’m driving the 2001 Toyota Corolla I bought to blend in with my destination. AC is off, not that it works anyway. Windows open. Today is one of those late October days with a cold blast from Canada that wakes up all of South Florida with its chill.
I’m smiling. Joyous, actually. Floating on air. Feeling better than I’ve felt in a long time. I spent all day Sunday preparing today’s assignment for The Group. Didn’t even think about the Sel
f-Detonation plan that had so consumed me on Friday. Putting it on hold.
But I keep getting flashes of those amazing big brown eyes. That black hair falling in waves. Those thick luscious lips. That strong chin. The fierceness behind her stare.
And I’m hard again.
Doesn’t even bother me today that my tail is right there. I look in my rearview mirror. Yep, just like always. A light-blue Buick, following me a few cars behind.
I think I’d miss him if he wasn’t following me. I’m so used to our routine. Just another Monday. We play the same little game every weekday.
Soon this will be over, though. The Talon Group will be ready. Soon they will have all the knowledge that will unleash them onto the world. Soon my legacy will be in motion.
I turn right onto 2nd Avenue. The plain blue Buick turns with me.
A few minutes later I turn right into the parking lot in front of the low plaza of stores. This is where it always gets fun.
Local headquarters of The Talon Group is here. The outdoor strip mall is in need of renovation. Unlike the wealthy suburbs who can afford fake “Main Street”-style mini-plazas built to look like Bedford Falls with palm trees. Always with a Wagamama, Starbucks, and Whole Foods Market.
This one, on the other hand, has an Asian massage parlor, a pawn shop, and a dollar store. I’m the only white person in sight. I grab my gym bag, walk to the door under the sign that reads Asian Spa in go inside.
“Good morning, Mr. Smith,” says the girl at the reception desk. Her black hair is tied up in a bun and she’s wearing a flowered kimono.
“Good morning, Yoon-Ji.”
“The usual today, Mr. Smith?”
“Yes,” I say.
She leads me down the hallway to Massage Room Number Two.
“You will be having Violet today,” she says. “She will be here in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” I say and hand her a C-note.
“Thank you, Mr. Smith.”
Alone in the massage room I know so well, I strip to my underwear.
Then I open the gym bag, removing its contents. I put each one on as I do. A pair of corduroy pants. Cheap suede shoes. A checkered shirt from T.J. Maxx. Camel-colored blazer with shoulder patches. A fake gray goatee. A pair of fake glasses with big, black frames.