by Ruby Vincent
Maverick flipped me onto my stomach, lifted my ass up, and pushed in with one swift move.
“Oh, yeah.” I made like I was going to crawl away and he growled, coming down on me like the two-ton mass of sex, heat, and need that he was. Maverick pressed my head into the sheets, resting on me cheek to cheek. He laced our fingers together in a firm fist and pinned them to the bed. I wasn’t going anywhere. “You’re definitely doing this on purpose.”
He chuckled. “Should I stop?”
“Gotta get it any way you can, love. Although, a tip.” I pushed back, driving him deeper inside of me. “You don’t have to work nearly that hard. I’m ready to go whenever you walk into a room.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He nuzzled my cheek, pulling a breathy sigh from me. “I love you.”
“I love—”
Maverick started pumping, slowly at first, and then picking up the pace as my moans encouraged him. There was something animalistic about him on top of me, pinning me down, groans skating over my cheek, and sweat slicking our bodies.
He couldn’t get an angle to pull out too far. Instead, he drove deeper. Quicker hard thrusts that rolled my eyes into my head.
“Fucking hell, Maverick,” I screamed.
“Nah, I’m fucking you.”
My comeback strangled mid-scream. I writhed underneath him, body rocked so hard by the orgasm I nearly bucked him off. Moments later, he stiffened and spilled himself inside of me.
We collapsed in a heap on the bed.
“Stay like this.” I drew our hands together beneath my head. “Please.”
“Thought I was a two-ton boulder?”
“You are,” I murmured, “and it makes me feel safe to know between me and the world... is you.”
Chapter Four
Maverick
The room was hushed. We hung on with bated breath as Bebop lifted the square, inched toward the hoop, and... let go. It sailed through under raucous shouting more suited to the final shot of an NBA match.
Cydney hugged me, jumping up and down. Nope. This reaction was warranted. Our robot, Bebop, was finished. It sailed through the obstacle course and completed every challenge without a hitch. Not only were we locked to win the competition, but we also got our summer back.
“We’re celebrating,” Cydney announced. “Someone volunteer for DD because we’re getting trashed.”
“Slow down, VP,” I said. “How about we settle for lunch on me?”
“Throw a couple beers in there and you’re on.”
I inclined my head. We were all over twenty-one and whoever got trashed would be thrown in an Uber. No harm, no foul. And we deserved to celebrate.
“Alcohol is on me too.”
“Then I’m in.”
Agreement went up around the room.
“What are we in the mood for?” I asked.
“Let’s order in.” Sawyer slung an arm around my shoulder. “Everyone, come to the Sam house. It’s practically empty. We can eat, drink, and celebrate our impending victory.”
“Two good ideas in one day, boys.” Cydney smacked our biceps. “I like it. Keep ’em coming.”
“Cool with you, Rick?”
I shrugged. “If it’s fine with you, it’s fine with me. Sure you want us trashing your house?”
“Our idea of wild is spending the summer building a robot. I’m not worried about this party getting out of hand.”
My team rushed around, putting away tools, shutting down the computer, packing away the robot, and finally gathering their things and heading to the frat house. I was last to leave. I locked the door and met up with Sawyer at the elevator. We rode down in a silence that for once Sawyer didn’t attempt to break.
The jury was still out on this guy. I watched him during meetings, lunch hangouts, and football. I watched him with the same intensity Aiden tracked all his brothers. If Sawyer was putting on an act, he didn’t break character once.
My team burst into the Sam house like kids going into a haunted house. Equal parts excited and nervous to enter the fraternity held above the rest.
“Grab some couch, guys,” Sawyer said. “I’ll dig up the beers. Rick, there’s a decent Chinese restaurant that delivers here. Mr. Lee throws in free egg rolls if we spend more than fifty dollars.”
“Good tip.” I raised my voice. “Guys, want Chinese?”
“Yes!”
“Hunan chicken, please.”
“Give me pork fried rice.”
“Chinese it is,” I said to myself.
I ventured deeper into the fraternity, on the heels of Sawyer. I’d been here before. A lifetime ago for the Halloween party that arrived early. The very night Sawyer was taken.
Nu Alpha Theta was exactly how I remembered it. Spotlessly clean not just for a house full of college dudes. It bordered on germaphobe-sterile. An oppressive silence clung to me as I left the crowded living room behind, and turning for the kitchen, I spotted the door that led to the basement.
If Aiden was holding a few frat guys against their will, no one would hear their calls for help down there. Not in this big, empty house.
I shook the thought loose. Valentina and Ezra have been down there. As far as we knew, the locked basement was exactly what he said it was, as well as the hidden file revealing nothing we could use.
Every door we kicked down turned up little on the other side. When will Aiden Connelly run out of lives?
“Rick? Rick.”
I had stopped in the entrance to the kitchen, staring off down the hall.
“You okay, man?”
“Yep. Just flicking through the endless possibilities for summer vacation now that I have my life back.” I stepped into their equally pristine kitchen and pulled up a stool at the island. “My girlfriend left for Costa Rica this morning. I might tackle a few other projects that’ve been sitting on my desk.”
“Nah, Rick.” Sawyer snagged a menu off the fridge. Grabbing the chair next to me, he handed it over. “Your first thought can’t be to do more work. I won’t allow it.”
“You won’t allow it?” I repeated, amused.
“You’re so serious all the time. I get it. You’re in a relationship. You’ve got a kid and a company to take over. But you are allowed to have fun.” A slow grin spread across his face, revealing a chipped canine I hadn’t noticed before. “Don’t tell anyone about this, but the guys and I host a poker night most weekends.” He nudged my arm. “We’ve got one on tonight. You should come.”
“Who is we?”
“Me, Aiden, Rowen, Winston, Nasir, and Hayes. We’re stuck on campus for the summer. Might as well make the most of it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Just come and check it out.” His smile was easy and open. “It’s a friendly game. We don’t play for high stakes. Eight o’clock. Join us.”
“I’ve got a dog and seven puppies I’m looking after.”
“Will something happen to them if you’re gone for a few hours?” He laughed. “Stop making excuses and live a little. Hang out with some cool guys. Listen to music. Smoke a cigar. Lose a little money. It’ll be good for you.”
“Cigars and poker. Just what I’ve been missing from my life.” My voice was laced with sarcasm. A fine performance if I said so myself. It wouldn’t do to seem too eager. Val was spot-on that Aiden was on to us. My only option left was to pretend we’d given up on solving the mystery. Sawyer and Teagan were back. Case closed.
“Think about it,” he said.
I bobbed my head. “I’ll see if I can. Have to check with Ezra, Jaxson, and Caroline. I have a kid and seven dogs. Can’t dip out whenever I feel like it.”
“Let me know.”
He pushed back from the island and headed out. I sat there a minute, considering my next move with a Chinese menu gripped in my palm.
Val wouldn’t want me to be alone with these guys. Not with so many questions still unanswered and the look in Aiden’s eyes like the truth will wreck our lives.
I
shifted in my seat, casting an eye for the doorway concealed behind a fridge, paint, and plaster.
But I’m going anyway. I was always good at poker.
NALA EYED US WITHOUT lifting head or paw. I couldn’t be sure, but I imagined she was thinking “Help!” Seven incredibly eager puppies climbed, wriggled, and burrowed through their siblings for their dinner.
“You’re doing great, Nala,” I said.
“You’re a good mommy,” Adam threw in.
The two of us huddled over her in the closet that was now her domain. She and the puppies were comfortable in there. Fortunate because her true owner wasn’t interested in cutting her vacation short and my mother was even less interested in caring for eight dogs.
Adam hugged the furry mother, gifting her a kiss on the head. “I’ll take care of them.”
“I’ll only be gone for a few hours, but you’re on duty. Check on them to make sure they’re okay. When it’s bedtime, turn off the lights.”
“I sleep in the big bed.”
I cracked a smile. Adam’s fascination with our beds wasn’t a surprise. Val put him to sleep in his own bed, and if he woke in the night, she came to his room and cuddled with him until he drifted off. He rarely slept in our beds which made it a task to conquer.
“That’s right. Gotta be nearby if Nala needs you. My bed is all yours. Sure you’re up for this?”
“Yes, Daddy. I can do it.”
“All right.” I hoisted him over my shoulder, carrying him out. “A big man with a big job needs a big meal.”
Jaxson reclined on my pillows with two television trays and my big screen queued to play Up. Adam was watching the puppies and Jaxson was watching Adam.
The little boy snuggled into his other dad’s side and dug into his baked macaroni and cheese. Jaxson met my gaze over his head.
“Are you up for this?” he asked. “Take it from the guy who fought off a psycho stalker. Stay away from Aiden Connelly and his murder basement.”
“I’m not afraid of Aiden. Mostly because he can’t touch me. Partly because he’s smart enough to know I’d tell you all where I was going.”
He cocked a brow. “Did you tell us all? Did a certain lady of ours get the call?”
“I’ve got to head out or I’ll be late.”
Jaxson caught the dodge. He laughed me out of the room.
In the garage, I bypassed my silver Audi and black BMW for my blue Benz. If I did disappear into the murder basement, witnesses were sure to remember a blue car.
I took off for campus, easing into the half an hour drive. Music blasted from the speakers, thumping a mix Val made me before she left. She was determined to update my musical tastes. The menu for the night was The 1975, My Chemical Romance, and Yellowcard. I loved her picks but I’d pretend I didn’t because she was cute as hell when she ranted on my hopelessness.
I carved a familiar path through campus. Somerset University had a different appeal at night. Old-timey lamps cast an ethereal glow on the immaculate grounds. The landscaping didn’t extend to Greek Row. The residents were responsible for their own upkeep and brown patches of grass and red Solo cups used as lawn decoration were the result. All except for the Sally and Sam house.
Pulling up to the curb, I parked in front of the house, peering through the window. A lone car sat in the driveway. The lights were off inside. If a bunch of guys were getting loose and letting off steam in there, they were doing it in darkness.
Or in the murder basement.
Maybe Jaxson had a point.
I got out and bounded up the stairs. I lifted my fist to knock, thought better of it, and twisted the knob. The door swung on creaky hinges, opening on a shadowed hallway.
“Hello? Sawyer?”
“Rick.”
My eyes traveled up. A figure stood at the top of the stairs cloaked in gloom. It moved and then split apart. Not one figure. Two.
“Beaumont.” Aiden reached the bottom of the landing and beckoned me inside. “Come on. We’re downstairs.”
I didn’t let my confirmed suspicions show on my face. Silently, I stepped in, letting the door click shut behind me. I couldn’t make out where anyone was until the basement door opened. The light illuminated the hall, and Aiden and Sawyer as they went inside.
They’re playing up this creepy vibe.
Even so, I followed.
Voices floated up the stairs.
“—new guy. Can we trust him?”
“Rick’s cool,” I heard Sawyer reply. “Don’t worry about him. He won’t say anything.”
The fifth step squeaked, bringing the conversation to a halt. I stepped off and got the full view of the basement I’d heard so much about. As confirmed, there was nothing to worry someone of even the most nervous disposition.
A whiteboard was pushed to the back of the room and covered with a sheet. A television was on the other side. A couch was pushed directly in front of it. The center of the room was taken up by the poker table and the six guys sitting around it. Sawyer pulled out the chair next to him.
“Rick, have a seat. Grab a scotch first. It’s over there.”
A glance to the side confirmed a bar top loaded down with a dozen bottles.
“I’m driving,” I said simply, taking the seat.
Sawyer pointed out the guy next to me. “Rick, this is Winston Abernathy III.” Winston inclined his head at me.
Choosing a name for an infant is a shot in the dark. Gracing the kid with a name that means warrior won’t stop them from becoming a shaky-kneed coward who flinches when someone jumps. In Winston’s case, I’m certain his parents saw into his future.
The man sitting next to me sat straight-backed, sipping three fingers of scotch. A gray dove-tail coat screamed money as loud as it did the eclectic taste born from wealth. At his throat was a purple cravat—yes, a cravat. And blue, disinterested eyes scanned me up and down. Everything the name Winston Abernathy the Third evoked was sitting next to me.
“Rick.” A thick British accent poured out of his mouth. “What’s your last name?”
“Beaumont.”
The disinterest flickered. “As in Marcus Beaumont?”
“As in Maverick Beaumont,” I corrected. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Winston nodded almost imperceptibly to Sawyer. I had no clue why. “My family’s done some business with yours. My father swears by your company.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Sawyer gestured to the next guy. “Meet Rowen Burke. Junior. Sam. And—”
“—the guy who’ll be cleaning up tonight.” He shook hands with me. “I hear you’re some kind of genius, so this’ll be doubly embarrassing for you.”
I laughed. “Most rumors are greatly exaggerated. I bet your poker skills are one of them.”
“I like this guy.”
Rowen had the easy air that went along with his tone. A loose cotton shirt in contrast to Winston’s suit. Sandy hair falling every which way. Puka shell bracelets adorning both wrists.
“My man, Hayes Benson,” Sawyer continued.
The name and the scar splitting his left eyebrow triggered my memory. “Hayes Benson,” I repeated. “From junior prep school?”
“That’s right. Been a long time, Rick. Good to see you.”
The time had been good to Hayes. I remembered a scrawny kid who hung out with only one friend and ate sushi every day for lunch. He now rivaled me in height and size. Seems his mom was onto something with the sushi. She ran a health food conglomerate and I knew for certain it was one of my father’s clients.
“Good to see you too,” I said, and meant it. “Wild that we’ve been going to the same college for two years and didn’t know it.”
“Let’s catch up after this.”
“For sure.”
Sawyer gripped my shoulder, directing me to the final two guys. “Aiden you know, and this is Nasir Harb.”
Nasir surveyed me with eyes eerily like Ezra’s. If Winston was buttoned-up and Rowen was laid-bac
k, he fell in the middle with the shirt, blazer, and jeans. He cut his hair close to the scalp and pierced three holes in his left ear for diamond studs and left the right untouched.
Aiden said they were all Sams. If the frat brothers fell into a “type,” I couldn’t see it.
“You any good?” he asked as we shook.
I lifted my shoulders. “Played with my dad growing up. Cleaned him out of Oreos.”
Nasir smirked. “We play for more than cookies down here.”
The way he said that scrunched my brow. “I thought this was low stakes.”
“It is,” said Hayes. “Ten thousand dollar buy-in. Pocket change.”
“For some.” I cut a look at Aiden and Sawyer. Hayes took his fish dumps in gold-plated toilets. Winston’s father couldn’t do business with mine unless he had a few million to throw around, and I couldn’t speak to Nasir’s or Rowen’s wealth. One thing I did know for sure was Sawyer and Aiden did not have that kind of pocket change.
I looked into these guys and their finances more than once. Where did they get ten thousand to throw on this table?
Aiden held my look with his patented smirking glint. “In or out, Beaumont.”
“I’m in.”
Just like that, the game was on.
I may have undersold my experience with poker. I did play for cookies with my dad. Then we played for chores. During Evergreen we played for where we’d go on summer vacation, and after graduation, my boys and I played for cars, money, and who’d claim Val for their bed in the following weeks. (She didn’t know about that last one.)
Poker was first and foremost a game played in the mind. The gift of reading people was one I perfected long ago while I spent my time listening, observing, waiting for people to show me who they truly were before I got close. Listening and observing was what you did in a round of poker.
Or at least that’s how every single other game I’ve played in my life went down. Not this time. From the moment the first chip struck the felt, these guys hadn’t shut up for a second.
“—want me to marry her,” said Winston. “An arranged marriage in our day and age. Ridiculous.”