by S. M. Maddox
The Wolf
Book Two
of the
Billionaire Vikings Series
By S.M. Maddox
THE WOLF – BILLIONAIRE VIKINGS BOOK TWO Copyright 2020 by S.M. Maddox. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are either used fictitiously or are the work of the author's imagination.
S.M. Maddox asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Also by S.M. Maddox
The Serpent – Book One of the Billionaire Vikings Series
The Stallion – Book Three of the Billionaire Vikings Series
Karen On Mars
For all the people like me,
who love dark stories and sexy-as-fuck Vikings.
This one’s for us, and us alone.
Legend says that Fenrir, brother of the Midgard serpent,
was the largest, most monstrous wolf in Asgard.
In order to control his rage,
he was bound and chained until the End of Days.
When Ragnarök comes, and Fenrir breaks free,
he will swallow the sun.
Chapter One
Jessie
I woke up in a cold sweat. The nightmares flooded in again, of someone chasing me. Taunting me. Teasing me. Tormenting me.
I heard a low growl and looked over.
Otis was sitting at the window, patiently staring at the white curtains. The moonlight streamed through them and settled on his fur, giving his slick grey coat the illusion that he was a phantom. He looked back at me, a worried expression in his furrowed brow that only a dog mom can understand. A shadow moved on the other side of the curtains, outside in the bushes.
I pulled my covers up to my head as I scrunched myself into the fetal position, false protection against the outside world.
Three steady knocks came a second later as the shadow reached the front door.
Rap, rap, rap.
Otis jumped at my bedroom door, a growl still in his throat. He pawed the doorknob, begging me to let him out so he could protect me. He looked back at me for the second time. I’ve got your back, Mom.
I glanced at my alarm clock. 3 a.m. Right on time, as always.
Otis ran to the front door and patiently waited for me. He’s always my backup. I leaned up on my tiptoes against the door and gasped. The peephole revealed something different this time. Something more sinister.
I slowly opened the door, allowing only the screen door between us and our enemies. The usual letter was laying on the welcome rug, but this time my mailbox was lit on fire. Orange flames fell across my front lawn. Opening the screen door just enough to reach the letter, I bent down to snatch it up. I could feel Otis’ long body leaning against me for support, encouragement, reassurance.
I grabbed the note and stood back up, slamming the door and locking it in the process. I ripped open the envelope, already knowing full well what it said.
I glanced at my packed bags, at the box marked ‘Otis’ stuff.’
This is the last night. We won’t be coming back.
Chapter Two
Roland, one week later
“We’ve got a problem,” Mike said, running his hands through his wavy brown hair.
“I thought I hired you to fix problems?” I pushed myself off Mike’s desk, sending my chair flying around in circles.
“I don’t have a bartender for tonight.”
Mike is my GM, my college roommate and my business partner, in a sense. He’s the only other person I trust outside of my family, and he’s also 30% owner of Assiduous, the BDSM club I’d dreamed about ever since, well, ever. I know you’re thinking, “why is it called ‘Assiduous’?” Emphasis on the Ass. Because I got outvoted. I wanted ‘Titillated,’ but I let Magnus and Thor have a vote, too, so I got outvoted 3-1.
Assiduous means ‘hard-working,’ which isn’t technically wrong I suppose. Anyway, back to the story.
I planted my feet firmly on the ground, stilling my spinning body. From his voice, I knew where this was going. I was planning on relaxing in the office tonight and watching the cameras positioned in each of the specialty rooms. For security purposes? Sure. Also, free porn when I’m bored.
“What about what’s her face?”
“Jared was in a car wreck today, so he’ll be out at least tonight. Sarah’s mom died, so she’s out for a week. The new girl I was going to cross train starts tomorrow. Derek is covering for Sam, Candace was special requested for Room 5, so on and so forth. I literally have no one, Roland. No one,” he paused, “except you.”
“I haven’t done bar tending since pre-law, Mike. I’m probably a bit rusty.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. There’s not one thing that giant brain of yours has ever forgotten, including how to make drinks. I’m not even half as good as you, and the spillage would be astronomical. For profit’s sake, you should be the one.”
He hit the line he knew I’d respond to, that I couldn’t say no to. Damnit. I don’t need extra money, but my biggest pet peeve, aside from dumbassery, is the useless waste of money and resources.
“Profit’s sake, huh?”
He slapped my back, grinning as I started stripping off most of my formal wear. Bastard. He knew how easily he’d won this round. “You’re a real pal, Ro.”
I didn’t have a change of clothes here, so I stayed in my Tom Ford dress pants and black shiny leather Oxfords, paired with just my white V-neck undershirt and headed downstairs.
Magnus, my oldest brother, founded Andersen Brothers, the law firm that I took over when he got promoted to CFO of Andersen Ltd. I’m proud of it, but he founded it. It’s his baby and it still moves and reflects his personality and decisions. Assiduous is my baby, my pride and joy. This club is all me, darkness and sex and kink and lust. I spend just about every free night here, talking with the customers, getting to know my employees, building my brand. We’ve got clients you wouldn’t even dream of, celebrities, politicians, musicians, all sorts of people request our private rooms and their favorite employees. On a slow night, my people make $5K. Each. All taxed, of course. We’re running a legal operation here.
Nothing stays, and nothing leaves. The Andersen family motto is stenciled in silver right across the front exit as customers leave to return back to the world from whence they came. Assiduous is a pick-your-poison type of business.
If you want to mingle with the patrons as the bar, then do that. If you want to rent one of the rooms, or one of our employees, you can do that, too. If you want a specialized experience, we’ll hook you up. We’ll match you, dark twist for dark twist. No judgements, anything goes.
Tonight is Tuesday, so not terribly busy. Mostly just the regulars, who’d rather not have prying eyes. We’ve occasionally kicked out the lurker or obvious groupie just trying to be seen with, or get the dish on, someone famous.
I could hear various screams and sounds of pleasure coming from
the rooms as I walked down the hallway towards the bar. I made a quick mental checklist of everything I’d need to set up my workstation, trying to remember how I’d liked things back in college. Mise en place. Tending bars was a quick way to make extra money in college, for sure, but it’s an even quicker and easier way to pick up chicks when you’d rather not put in any effort.
Behind the bar was squeaky clean. Clean enough to eat off the floors. Jared, my usual bartender, kept everything spotless and pretty well stocked. He was fighting hard to full time, and we were about to offer it to him when the new quarter rolled around. Mental note: call Jared later and check on him.
I made a quick note of what I was too low on - fresh limes, lemons, and oranges. Maybe a few extra cocktail napkins. You can never have enough cocktail napkins. An extra box of umbrellas. Women love the drink accessories that come in all the fruity shit. Bonus tips if you put two in there, plus a plastic knife with a pineapple chunk or some shit on it. They’ll practically cream their panties.
Jared was a big hockey buff, so we installed a small tv underneath the counter for slow nights, equipped with the full ESPN package. Boss of the fucking century, right? Happy employees take care of happy customers. I checked the ticket machine, which had been silent for the last twenty minutes, and then pulled up a barstool to watch the game. This night is gonna suck ass.
Chapter Three
Jessie
Otis smiled at me with his best toothy grin, his one little bottom tooth popping out over the white hairs of his top lip.
“Hey buddy, I know you wanted me to stay home and eat pizza with you. We’ll unpack tomorrow, alright? Momma really needs an orgasm tonight.”
Otis’ silver-grey tail thumped once, loudly on the floor in agreement. We’d both been more than a little uptight the last few months. I knew he’d understand, if he were in the same situation. He held his paw up for me to shake, his way of making me feel even worse.
Otis was a rescue dog, one of the retired greyhounds that got discarded when he got too old. We’ve been together for five years, and he’s my best friend and support system. He’s ten now, and his eyes are starting to cloud up with cataracts. I always felt so guilty when I had to leave him, especially when he looks at me like I’m his whole world.
I gave him a can of his favorite dog food, the soft chicken in gravy. He seemed content with that, and I started getting ready.
We’d just moved to Fries a few days ago, down from Hartford. Jack had all but told me to move here. So far, it seemed like a quieter city on the water, still in Connecticut but far away from my troubles. I hoped anyway.
The first night here, was the first night I’d slept through the night. The first night Otis’ growling at the windows hadn’t roused me out of a deep sleep. The first night I’d taken a deep breath and actually felt settled. That was three nights ago.
We’d had three full nights of sleep, and if I’m being honest, two full days, too. Otis and I had been so exhausted from lack of sleep for so long, that after the moving company left, we snuggled up together in my queen-sized bed and didn’t move for quite a while.
Assiduous had quite a reputation throughout Connecticut, and I’d always been a little more than curious to go see what all the fuss was about. I was, of a certain preference, men had told me, and most of them couldn’t handle me. But Assiduous? Anything goes if you’re willing to pay, or so the advertisements said.
I was nearly down to my last dime. I’d saved up a little cash when I’d had a well-paying job not so long ago in another lifetime, on the occasion that I ever got to visit the club. I didn’t really want to spend it on a booty call now, after everything that’d happened. I was nearly out of donation money, too, but I figured I deserved to finally treat myself to a man who could handle me. I’ll apply to the few places I want to work after I get unpacked. Momma needs a goooood fuck.
I put on my favorite leather dress, a shorter-than-short one piece that zipped up in the front and showed off just about all of my cleavage except the nipples. Then, I zipped up my thigh-high, high-heeled leather boots, and put on my three-seasons-old-but-still-timeless Burberry trench coat that came down to my knees. Before I walked out the door, I grabbed a large black hat with a wide brim. Think of Carmen Sandiego as a dominatrix and that was my look. I turned to look at Otis. He’d already settled onto his side of the love seat and was heavily snoring.
“See ya later, buddy,” I whispered as I locked him in, and then rechecked to make sure the door was secure.
Chapter Four
Jessie
The club was easy enough to find. The closer I got to the address I’d googled, the more signs and billboards started popping up. Is prostitution legal in Connecticut? Not technically, but massages are. So is drinking, and other various ways around illicit acts. Word on the street is that the city’s top lawyer owns the bar, making any arguments against such an establishment basically suicide. I’ve never met him, but they call him The Wolf. As in, he’ll murder you and won’t even blink.
Ironically, wolves aren’t really like that in real life though, so I’m not sure where that phrase ever came from. Wolves are natural pack animals who are furiously loyal to their families and take great care in raising their young. None have ever been known to run underground brothels.
I knew I’d found the place before I’d even pulled in. A red halo of fluorescent lights lit up the parking lot and lined every corner of the building, a typical sign of the debauchery yet to come. It looked like a giant, sinister snow globe.
The parking lot was a skeletal void of people. A sprinkling of cars suggested Tuesdays must be slow, maybe just the regulars were inside. At least tonight anyway. Still, I wasn’t taking any chances with my safety.
I parked up close by the door, in the most well-lit spot I could find. I never used to do that, look over my shoulder like a paranoid psychotic. I opened the car door, and lowered my boots to the ground. The spot I was in was littered with cigarette butts, and I felt my feet slip on the smooth paper between my soles and the concrete. The bouncer was watching me, intrigued. I felt the wind catch my jacket as I stepped out, and his eyebrow raised ever so slightly as he clearly got a visual of the night I intended to have.
I’m confident, I’m sexy, I belong here, I can still kick ass, I repeated in my mind as I walked towards him. He was a tall fellow, probably seven feet at least. Dark olive skin and short curly black hair, extremely large torso. Maybe I’ll get him if I don’t see anyone inside. Word on the street is that all the employees are, shall we say, up for extras. Why wouldn’t the bouncer be any different?
He held the door for me as I approached him. I tipped the brim of my hat at him as he watched me walk up, channeling Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca.
“Welcome to Assiduous, ma’am,” he said in a deep voice as he opened the door for me.
“Simply delighted,” I responded in my best Katherine Hepburn impression. Forties style all the way, baby.
There was a small marble table directly beside the entrance/exit. A silver antique business card holder sat on top. I picked a card up, admiring its simple elegance. Solid black squares with silver writing on the front and back. ‘Nothing stays, and nothing leaves’ was scrolled on the front, with the phone number and business hours on the back. Translation: you can be whoever and do whatever you want inside this safe haven. Incognito for the win.
A hostess in a black floor-length dress greeted me, “Welcome to Assiduous. Where can I take you?”
“I, um.” Crap. What do I say? I glanced in and saw the bar. “It’s my first time here, actually. I’ll start at the bar, if that’s alright?”
“Absolutely. Let me or any of the staff members know if you have any questions. About anything. We’d be more than happy to assist you or show you around once you get settled.” She smiled politely, warmly and I felt immediately comfortable and confident. I’ll bet she racks in the tips.
I followed her to the bar as she seated me at the end and handed me a
menu. “We do have a full kitchen and bar, if you’re hungry. A lot of people come here to chat and socialize at the bar or in one of the sitting lounges. It can get lonely out there, you know? Life’s hard enough as it is. We don’t allow judgements inside these walls.” She tilted her head to the side and smiled warmly at me again, sucking me into her well-trained customer service magic. “I’m Hannah, by the way. Just let me know if you… need anything, at all, ok?” Emphasis on the ‘need anything.’
Between her words, my brain filled in her meaning, “What you’ve heard is true. You just have to ask for what you want.”
“Ok, thank you so much, Hannah.”
The bar area was slightly better lit than the rest of the club. I looked around at the red light from outside that was also mirrored inside as well. It was more dimly lit than I was comfortable with, but that’s how people liked it. So dark that you’d have to squint to make sure it really was the newly elected congressman sitting a few stools down from you.
I bet they have huge pest control bills. In addition to the dim lighting, the walls, the floors, most of the interior was solid black. A tarantula could be sitting beside you and you’d never even know it.
I felt a panic attack coming on, and I started counting down from twenty as my heartbeat quickened. Deep breaths Jess, deep breaths. I stared down and scratched at the stitching on my coat as I counted.
14, 13, 12…
Another deep breath and a pep talk.
You came here to get laid. Get laid or do the laying. It’s time to start over. No one knows you’re here, which means no one is going to hurt you. Unless you pay them to, of course.
I giggled at myself as the bartender sat a cocktail napkin in front of me.