CHAPTER SEVEN
WELLS
L a Lune Noire is known as the most upscale establishment in New Orleans—not upscale in the way of stuffy pomp-and-circumstance refinement. Upscale as in exclusive.
Think speakeasies and secret society clubs.
Password admittance for a hefty price.
Law enforcement in their pockets.
They own the town because everyone wants at least a peek, and after one visit, they compile a file so thick on you that if you dare take them down, you’ll go down with them.
That’s rarely an issue though. Governors, senators, police chiefs all covet this as their cherished escape. The siren song is addictive. Pleasure lurking in every shadow. A place where purse strings are loose because the morals are looser.
Of course, the primary hotel and casino are open to anyone, as are two of the restaurants. It serves as the front of house, distracting the naive tourists and uptight townies from hunting for proof of phantom legends.
Axel Noire is an old friend, essentially from a former life. Both of us have become far different men from when we were boys. Life has a way of sharpening a man.
He, his four brothers, and his little sister live in the North Tower penthouse—the only residence located in that building—running their twenty-four/seven operation.
Here, they reign as kings of the world because nothing can touch them.
For that reason and others, I trust them nearly as much as my own guys.
My crew will be staying in the South Tower penthouse, which provides plenty of room for us to spread out.
Secluded from the general public, the tower is reserved for those who require the utmost concealment.
Five bedrooms, all with private en suites, a formal living space, dining room, kitchen, and office—perfect for our needs.
Ivy is accustomed to the best. Her parents spared no expense in offering her luxurious experiences, but La Lune Noire is unlike anything.
Brimming with both sophistication and sin, the atmosphere is delightfully seductive.
And although she hasn’t said much, her twinkling blue eyes tell me the alluring appeal is casting its magical spell on her as well.
Safety and discretion are paramount to everything concerning Ivy, which is why La Lune Noire was an obvious choice for our wedding. The fact that my guys love it here doesn’t hurt either.
The penthouse butler shows us to the suite, apprising Ivy of the countless services, before addressing me. “Axel would like to see you in his quarters once you’ve all settled, sir.”
I turn to Ivy. “How much time to freshen up and dress for dinner?”
“Fifteen minutes?” It’s a question, making it clear she’s overestimating her abilities.
Glancing at my watch, I note that the night is still young, so there’s no need to rush. “Thank you, Bernard. Please tell him to expect us within the hour.”
Ivy scurries off to freshen up, emerging thirty minutes later in a silky emerald cocktail dress.
While the length is modest, hanging a couple of inches above the knees, there is a slit on the side, a teasing glimpse.
The material hugs her sumptuously, accentuating the slender curve of her hips, and the top is equally as magnificent—cap sleeves meeting in a thin band across her collarbone, creating a triangular cleavage window .
Ivanna Kingston takes a proper dress and corrupts it into becoming the eighth deadly sin.
She struts into the kitchen, her narrow hips swaying with an alluring sashay.
After pouring herself a glass of the bottled lemonade from the stocked fridge, she sips it while ogling me from the corner of her eye.
I like that she watches me. It’ll take the sting out of discovering I’ve been watching her for years.
I move toward her, lifting my arm to the cabinet beside her head, caging her there.“That dress is exquisite. Tasteful. Elegant.” Threading my fingers into her hair, I slide my cheek against hers, speaking low into her ear. “But you in it is unholy .”
She hums—a seductive little moan. “Unholy? Can’t say I’ve ever been called that.”
“One of your many firsts with me,” I promise, and she draws in her chin, her ocean eyes scanning mine for the deeper meaning there.
You’ll never be the same, Little Storm.
While I have her undivided attention, I lay out my order for the night. “You’re to be by my side the entire evening. Understood?”
Her hands glide over my lapels, their final destination the nape of my neck, fingers playing with my hair.
Her voice sings out in such a sultry rasp that my cock jerks in salutation on the first syllable.
“Another demand from my number one … guard dog. I might need to wander just so I can watch you bare your teeth.”
This plan of mine to keep her at arm’s length until she’s breathless and begging, convinced she chose this, is crumbling. I need to fuck the brat out of her more than I need air.
I swallow my urge to throw her down right here on the kitchen floor, binding her wrists, her long, toned legs wrapped around my waist while I fuck her tight cunt until she screams and quakes, and instead, I fix my unwavering glare on her.
“Cute. This is not the place to push boundaries, Ivanna. It isn’t safe. By my side.”
She steps back, bracing her hands on the counter behind her. “Yes, sir. ”
Fuck me.
Her eyes trail down to the unmistakable growing bulge in my pants before slowly returning to mine with a she-devil smile. “Maybe next time, you should bring a leash.” She tilts her head and bats those thick black lashes in a bashful ruse. “We can see who belongs on it more.”
Jesus Christ.
She’ll be the death of me.
My fingers curl around her jaw, and I jerk her chin up to me. Her back arches, my rock-hard cock nudging her stomach in the process. “You are playing a very dangerous game, Little Storm. Don’t think for a moment I don’t know that you on my leash is exactly what you want.”
Our eyes are locked, hers plainly lost in the image we’ve painted and unable to hide the rush of excitement.
Fuck. Now, all I can think about is buying her a collar to match her ring.
A throat clears behind us. It’s Ty. I sensed him a moment ago, as I’m trained to do, but I don’t acknowledge him because the Little Storm and I are still in a standoff.
That alluring cleavage window is flushed and heaving, begging me not to move.
This is why we don’t get involved with our clients and certainly not with those who are our mission.
Lines get blurred. Fuck, the whole job clouds with a film of haze, making it challenging to keep everyone safe.
It’s nearly impossible to see through the fog when your focus becomes narrowed to one.
I won’t let my little obsession compromise everything we’ve been working for.
Done playing, I point to the door, reminding myself that the hope of exploring the city will be enough to keep her in line. “Go.”
We move toward our meeting in the North Tower. Axel’s request to see me right away is regarding a business matter we have to discuss, so I instructed Ivy to bring a book.
Their residence is a step up from the South Tower accommodations—two extra bedrooms, a weight room, movie room, sauna, and a few offices.
Axel greets us, and soon, his brothers fill in the living space. “These are my brothers, Ivy. Ryker, Maddox, Cash, and Jax. Our little sister, Rena, will be around later.”
Each of them slips their hand into Ivy’s upon introduction, all of them displaying various levels of eccentricity—the latter three heavy on expression in the way of visible sinister tattoos, piercings, and a general array of illicit roguery.
Their nefarious air is enough to chill the most stoic, but Ivy never falters.
Cash lingers far too long for my liking—precisely the reason I want her occupied with a book. Ty, Liam, and Gage all stiffen beside me at the sight, protective armor in place. That’s why they’re her guards.
Liam snickers, patting Cash on the shoulder. “Cash, brother, that is not a battle you want to wage. Been there.”
Cash laughs, sauntering away with Liam and Gage. “All’s fair in war and sex, man. Noire rules.”
“Not with her,” Liam hisses. “Off-limits.”
“As off-limits as Rena.” Gage adds the lethal shot with his arms crossed over his puffed chest, jaw pulsing. “She’s marrying Wells.”
Cash twists back, eyes dropping to the stormy rock on Ivy’s finger. “Ahh. Missed that.” He sighs, and my fists clench while he eye-fucks her for another beat. “Understood.”
Ryker rolls his icy-blue eyes. “Sorry about that. Axel and I were hoping to have a few minutes with you and Ty, but …” His gaze shifts between Ivy, who stands beside me, soaking everything in with a quiet simper, and his brothers before landing on me in question.
Before I can answer, Ivy holds up her AirPods. “I have a playlist and a story waiting for me, so no worries. Thank you so much for the lovely accommodations. I’m sure it will make for a beautiful wedding day.”
Axel smiles at her. “Absolutely. You’re an impressive girl to get this guy down the aisle.
” He’s well aware of Ivy being an assignment, although not privy to all the details.
But his effort to offer her a traditional congratulations is appreciated.
“You can make yourself comfortable over there. We’ll use the dining table. ”
Generally, we would conduct this discussion in his office, but this way, I can still see Ivy. He must sense my unease.
She makes her way to a plush leather chair by a fireplace, pops in her earbuds, and opens her book. And just like that, she’s in another world.
Ryker studies her as he settles into his chair at the long mahogany table. “Should we be concerned with sharing delicate information?”
“No.” Ty chuckles. “She’s content. She won’t be paying us any attention.”
“She’s trustworthy as well,” I add. “But Ty is correct. We no longer exist to her.”
Axel pours us each a glass of Glenfiddich 30 Year Old, his brow cocked while eyeing me. “You’re attached.”