“I’m here on behalf of the coven, to apologize to Lucian for my actions. Is he here?” I asked, and hoped to the Gods he wasn’t.
Man-bun smiled and uncurled his arms as he stepped closer, forcing me to give ground and back up. His skin was a striking contrast to the salmon colored shirt he wore, and I wondered briefly if he was making a point, that real men did wear pink, they just didn’t admit it. His smile was akin to Lucian’s, wolfish with a hint of that whole I’m-going-to-eat-you-alive-little-girl shit.
“Boyfriend’s ride?” he asked as he looked over my head, to where ‘baby’ sat alone in the parking lot.
My head turned and I took her in. She was a thing of beauty. “It’s my brother’s car, or was.”
“Was? What’d you do little girl, steal it? Out for a joy ride?” he snickered.
“Actually, I own it,” I mumbled and felt a small prick of guilt and pain.
“He get in trouble and you find out, use it against him as leverage or some shit?” he asked as those eyes moved back to mine.
“He died in Afghanistan,” I whispered through the familiar lump that rose to my throat as I admitted he was dead.
“Shit,” he muttered as he looked her over once more and then moved aside to allow me access into the club. “Boss man is in his office, interviewing people and shit. Go on up, little lady.”
I moved into the club and paused, finally being able to look the place over. I’d worked in two clubs, but only until I’d gotten the job I wanted. I’d rented a hotel room, and had tried my luck in Portland while I worked at the nightclub, but the cost was a bit much considering we pooled our tips at the end of night. The first club had been smaller, and the tips pretty crappy, I’d moved on to the next one within a week and a half. The next one had more clientele, but the hours made it hard to do much of anything, let alone go to college and live in something more permanent.
Eventually I’d ended up in Pacific City. I’d been close enough to attend college classes and had landed a job at a florist while earning a degree. I’d attended evening classes at Tillamook Bay Community College, and paid for it with the wages from the floral shop and scholarships but still had a ton of debt for the degree that I still needed to finish.
Not one of those clubs I’d worked at was anything like this one. The room was larger than I would have thought it would be from outside. It had black lights that outlined the dance floor, above and below. There were other strands of lights as well as strobe and gel lights, but in the middle of the day, they were off, probably to save on the power bill. The ones at the bar were on, however, and blue and green lights pulsed beneath the glass which was mounted into the countertop of the bar. The place wasn’t deserted; a few people sat at one of the larger booths and a couple sat at one of the corner booths, and I could barely make out their features as they sucked face.
My eyes drifted to a door that was labeled ‘Sinners’ Lounge’ and my curiosity rose as I noted the huge beefy guy that stood in front of it, watching me. I ignored him as I continued to give the place a quick onceover until I found a staircase that led up to what I assumed would be Lucian’s office.
I was about to step forward when a woman placed her hand on my shoulder. “You here for the interview, Sugar? Head down that hallway,” she said, pointing a finger in the opposite direction from where I’d assumed his office should have been. “There’s a staircase at the end of the hall; it will lead you to a set of rooms. His is the one marked ‘owner.’ Good luck!” she chirped as she took off towards the bar.
I followed her directions until I was in a hallway that was lined with dark windows on either side, and from where I was, I could see an entire wall of the same dark glass. My curiosity was fully piqued, but the huge door that said ‘owner’ on it was in the middle, so I stopped and forced myself to knock once I’d worked up the courage to face Lucian.
A woman answered the door. She was in her late twenties, early thirties. Perfect raven hair framed her face with delicate ringlets. Her face was oval, with a perfect button nose that made her look even more delicate than she probably was. Her skin was ivory, and smooth, without a single wrinkle, which made me think more in her twenties. My eyes moved to her violet eyes, and then to her perfect rosebud mouth which was smiling welcomingly.
“You must be Dana; you’re late, but he is still willing to see you. Good help is hard find around this place,” she said in a whimsical tone.
“Actually, I’m Magdalena, and I’m here on behalf of the coven,” I corrected her. My palms were sweating and my heart hammered wildly as her demeanor changed from welcoming to venomous.
Whoa, what the hell?
“Lucian,” she said his name with a tenderness that made my brow rise as she continued to glare at me. “It’s a witch, want me to throw her out?” she offered.
“Let her in, and go get the others trained quickly. We need them ready for tomorrow,” he said softly, with the same familiarity in which she had spoken to him.
She turned sideways to let me through and I felt something strange coming from her; hate? Jealousy? What the heck was her problem with witches? She moved back into the room, as if she intended to stay, but Lucian gave her a look that was filled with tenderness, and she returned it in spades.
“I’ll leave you to handle your business, my love,” she said, putting emphasize in her words.
The office was immense, with expensive furnishings I’d pinned a time or ten on Pinterest. Pinned under the board labeled ‘things to buy if I won the freaking lotto.’ Lucian was seated behind a sizable desk, with a cool expression on his handsome features and I faltered in my confidence. I quickly got real busy taking in every piece of furniture in the room.
The office was designed in rich, dark mahogany and black leather furniture. It was pure masculinity at its finest. My eyes scanned the glass wall, which was tinted, and yet wasn’t as dark as the others I’d seen. It took up an entire wall, much like the end of the hall that I’d been curiously interested in checking out. I skimmed over an old painting, and my eyes moved back to it as I took in the delicate features of the woman who had been painted.
I moved closer without even realizing I had until I was stopped right in front of it. She looked as if she could be my sister, or an immediate family member. She had the same heart shaped face and delicate features that both Kendra and I had been born with. Her hair was the same caramel blonde, with a few streaks of darker hair running through it.
I hadn’t heard him move, but the moment I turned around to ask him about her, I was eye level with his chest. I looked up before thinking about it, and met his eyes.
“Why are you here?” he asked smoothly.
“I came to apologize about my actions and accusations last night,” I whispered, and felt a fine bead of sweat forming at the base of my neck.
“The coven sent you here, alone?” he inquired as he took a step away from me, which eased my mind from wanting to run back to the safety of my car and burn rubber.
“I asked for my sister to join me, but she was instructed to stay out of it. She was also busy with preparations for the next event,” I mumbled.
“You’re not busy with them as well?” he asked as his eyes moved from me and flowed back to the picture behind me.
“I won’t be attending them,” I replied crisply, his eyes never leaving mine as I moved around the office, except to glance occasionally at the haunting picture that seemed to give me the chills.
“Why?” he asked as he moved away from me and turned back around to stare at me.
“I’m being punished.”
His eyes flickered with interest at the word, and I moved away from him. My feet took me to the glass wall, the farthest place I could stand in the huge office away from him. My body was doing things, bad things. My nipples were as hard as pebbles, and there were butterflies playing keep-a
way in my stomach. There was a subtle arch in my spine, and if I wasn’t mistaken, my hips had just spread in open invitation for this man.
The room below that the glass looked over was empty, for the most part. A few people were cleaning it, probably with bleach and a lot of other disinfectants. There was a raised stage that would be about knee level if I was standing in front of it. Not high enough to be used for a band, and the lack of speakers told me that it wasn’t used for music at all.
There was a large wooden X, which had chains on it, but whatever was normally connected to it must have been removed for cleaning. Chairs were pulled off to one side, also being cleaned. Weird.
“What’s that room used for?” I asked without thinking it over. I turned to find him, once again, right freaking behind me. What the hell was he, a ninja? He made no sound whatsoever when he moved.
His smile lifted into a dangerous smirk that made me feel I’d just awoken something sinister inside of him, instead of asking a simple question. His eyes were basked in the shadows and today he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, just the white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing ink that had been tattooed into his skin. The brief glance I sneaked of his tats was sexy as fuck, even more so than when he had worn the entire suit. He wore slacks, and expensive Italian leather boots, which should have made more noise than they had when he walked across the expensive marble floor of the office.
“It’s private,” he said after a moment of me staring at him and him returning the favor. Suddenly I felt underdressed and exposed. This man’s eyes were probing, intrusive. It was as if they could see beyond my skin and straight into the dark recesses of my soul.
“Private what?” I whispered breathlessly as my mind went back to last night, and replayed his mouth on mine, and other places. Moisture drenched my panties and his nostrils flared, as if he could scent the proof of my traitorous body’s response to the memories.
“It’s none of your business,” he warned as he moved towards the desk and indicated with a nod of his head for me to follow him. “It could be where I murdered a woman last night,” he replied with humor in his sensual tone.
Oh, he’s got jokes! I wasn’t laughing. Asshole.
Guilt washed over me and I blushed with it. I willingly followed him to his desk and watched as he leaned on it and crossed his muscular arms as he waited for me to take a seat. I wasn’t sitting. It would give this man more power over me if I was seated and he was looking down. I remained standing, and placed my thumbs in the pockets of my low-fitting jeans.
It exposed more of my stomach and his eyes noted it. I smiled. I felt sexy in his presence, which I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Not since I’d been cheated on. Even if I no longer felt the pain I had over Todd’s betrayal, it had shaken my confidence, and removed any sense of self-worth for a time, but it was coming back. Slowly.
“Look, I’m sorry for what I did. I thought I saw a body; I had no idea it was a dog. I think the blood threw me, and I wasn’t dumb enough to wait around to see what it really was. So I’m sorry that I assumed the worst of you.”
He nodded but said nothing. His eyes just continued to stare at my own, as if he had some sort of x-ray vision that was allowing him to see inside my soul, to scan anything that I may have seen before I met him.
“I’m also here to serve you,” I muttered and then blushed as my words played on a loop inside my head.
His brow rose and his eyes narrowed as his lips lifted into a wicked smile. “Is that so?”
“I’m to offer my services to you,” I amended and blushed even more. What the fuck was wrong with me? Of all times to make an ass out of myself, this was not it.
“Tell me, Lena, what could you possibly do to serve me?” His eyes sparkled with a look that said he was entertaining himself at my discomfort.
“The coven wanted me to help you with any of the upcoming events you are hosting for the Awakening, however I can also help with the club, I have skills in that department,” I said, and his lips tugged in the corners.
“You think I need help?” he asked as he took his seat behind the desk and watched me closely.
“You’re hiring. The girl said so when I was trying to find your office,” I answered as I finally sat in the chair.
“Did she also tell you exactly what I was hiring for?” he countered effortlessly.
I felt my mouth go dry. “No,” I said.
“Didn’t think so, or you wouldn’t be interested in asking about the job. So that leads us back to, the original question.”
“Why don’t we just cut the shit; what do you want me to do to make up for what I did?”
“You accused me of murder, and then hiding the body on my own property,” he said as he touched the tips of his fingers together and watched me.
“Not technically. Technically I only accused you of burying a body,” I said softly. My eyes were locked with his, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what he wanted. I just wasn’t willing to give that up because I owed some debt to him. That reward had to be earned.
“And if you were to choose to your own punishment, what it would be?” he countered.
“Three Hail Mary’s, and some time on my knees…” I smiled and licked my lips seductively. “In the garden, of course, or praying for forgiveness,” I finished with a voice I’d never heard come out of my mouth. Whoever’s it was, it was sexy as hell.
He swallowed hard, his eyes narrowed and a muscle began ticking in his jaw. His hands lowered and he sat back as he watched me challenge him with nothing more than a look. I wasn’t sure why I was flirting, but I was. Hard.
“What can you do that doesn’t end with my dick exploring the depths of your tight throat?” he replied easily and I about swallowed my tongue.
“Pretty much anything except that?” I answered in a small voice.
“So I could bend you over this desk and fuck you? Is that a service you offer everyone you accuse of murder?” he continued.
I groaned and shook my head. “I get it, I shouldn’t have gone there.”
“Rightly so,” he replied easily. “Tempting as it may be, I don’t waste my time on those who have no experience.”
“Who says I don’t have experience?” Why did I ask that? Where the hell had I left my brain today?
“I ran a background check on you after you accused me of murder last night. You know, a little fill-in-the-blanks since you left the coven. Imagine my surprise when it led me to a few places in Oregon. Like Portland.”
“I only accused you of burying a body,” I mumbled as heat filled my cheeks.
“Turns out no one even noticed you existed there. You didn’t sleep around with men as most witches do when they leave their coven, and the one time you did, you told the bartender after she asked how the guy was, that he was fine.”
“You checked me out?” I asked in anger. Un-freaking-believable. He’d checked me out, and that shocked me.
“You accused me of murder, and I’m a very rich man. I check out those who accuse me of anything, and I look for a motive. I needed to know if you were on a witch hunt, to put it bluntly. I checked out every little detail of the time you’ve been away from home.”
“You needed to know about my sex life to verify if I planned to accuse you of murder?”
“I told my people to find out everything about you,” he replied easily as his fingers drummed on the wood desk. “Miss Fitzgerald. You told the bartender that it was fine when she asked about the sex you’d had outside of her bar. You were gone less than ten minutes, so I can only conclude that there was nothing fine about it. You wanted to know what the fuss was about. You needed to know what had driven your fiancé into someone else’s bed, what could possibly be so good to ruin your picture-perfect relationship for. Only you didn’t find it. You allowed some asshole who didn’t
even know you were a virgin to fuck you in his dirty car. He probably used that car with a hundred other women before you, ruining their expectations on being fucked as well. He didn’t show you what all of the fuss was about, though. Instead you walked back into that bar, and had no further inclination about getting fucked again. You didn’t even try again, because you thought sex was boring, painful, and just fine.”
I felt my hands as they balled into fists as he sat behind his expensive desk judging what I’d done. I couldn’t believe that he’d found out as much as he had in such a short time, but that he’d actually gone the lengths he had and uncovered what he did; it had been painful, and everything he was saying was true. How he had guessed I was still a virgin at that time baffled me; he must have been hoping that my face would give him the answer, or perhaps one of his people knew the art of divination. However, he had no business giving two hoots about my sexual encounters.
“You see, sex isn’t just fine. If it’s fine, the one who did the fucking…or both the people should be taken out and shot dead. Sex should be primal, downright fucking dirty. It should make you need it, want it. Sex with the right person makes you wonder how you’ve ever gone without it. It’s addictive, and animalistic. Bare fucking bones, Lena, right down to the most basic needs of the human nature. He ruined your perspective on sex, and that needs to be rectified.”
Playing With Monsters Page 9