Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
D AKOTA
“Who was that?” I ask as I sit down in the stranger’s seat. My eyes follow the path he took to the door.
“Hudson Kelly. You can pick your jaw up off the ground.”
“Is he single?” I tease. I don’t really mean it, but I love the little flare of jealousy in his eyes as he looks me over.
“He is not, and he’s absolutely obsessed with her. So obsessed he’s willing to share if it means keeping her.”
“Willing to share?” I raise a brow. That didn’t look like a man who needed or wanted to share.
“She has him and two others.”
“Two? A man like that and two more? I need to meet this woman.” My jaw drops as I stare at the door. Maybe she can teach me a thing or two.
“I’ve met Charlotte, and trust me, she needs all three.” He smirks, and I sit up straighter.
“Does she now? Is she that pretty?” I ask, trying not to let the inquiry sound as jealous as it feels.
“She’s gorgeous, incredibly smart, and dangerous as fuck.” His tone has reverence to it I don’t miss.
Envy flares in my chest with the way he describes her. She sounds like exactly the kind of woman Grant would fall for if such a thing was even possible.
“Does she give lessons?” I run my fingers over the crown on the queen’s head.
Grant laughs as he sits back in the chair, studying the chessboard in front of him.
“I wish. We could all learn a thing or two from her.”
“You still have more to learn, even at your advanced age?” I run my teeth over my lower lip as I grab one of the chess pieces and move it forward on the board.
“Always.” He makes the next move.
“You and Hudson play chess together?” I follow suit.
“I like to play chess with people I’m in business with.” He tilts his head and makes another move.
“I would’ve thought you’d do something more in line with your hobbies. Playing cards or riding.” Seeing him the other day confirmed my suspicions. Hazel mentioned in passing while we were out riding that Grant has horses on the ranch again, now that she and Ramsey are back together.
“Most of these guys wouldn’t know what to do with a horse, and playing cards usually makes them want to put money on the table to sate their ego. You don’t want any more money or pride on the line than you already have when you’re doing business. Besides, how someone plays chess tells you a whole lot about how their mind works. Who they are as a person.” Grant’s brow furrows as he studies what’s left of the board .
“What kind of business do you do with him?” I ask absently, studying the board and finally picking a piece. It’s been a long time—too long—since I learned to play, and I forget nearly all the rules. I’m just waiting for him to call me out on it.
“The most important kind.” He moves again on the board but dodges my question.
“What does he do for a living?”
“He exists.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s rich—filthy fucking rich.”
“Richer than you?”
“Richer than me.” He looks up at me, studying my face for a moment before his eyes return to the board. “And getting richer by the day.”
“Not satisfied with being filthy rich?”
“It’s not the money he’s after. It’s the power. Being a prince isn’t enough. He wants to be king if it means he can crush the people who hurt his family,” Grant says absently as he watches me make the next move.
“But you don’t?”
“No. I don’t. All that stuff they say is true—heavy is the head that wears the crown. Not to mention all that pomp and circumstance. I’d much rather be lurking in the shadows where no one expects me.” He holds up the knight. “A dark horse.”
“But the king needs his horse.”
He turns the chess piece over in his hand. “We need each other.”
“Why?” I ask, and something flickers over his face before he returns his attention to the board.
“Checkmate.” He smirks as his lashes lift, and his eyes meet mine.
“I haven’t played in a long time.” I offer up a weak defense.
“You should play more. You’ve got good instincts, just too hasty in some of the plays you make. Watch the board more. Watch how your opponent plays. You want to be thinking about what they’ll do next, not what you’ll do.”
“You could teach me. Get some practice in yourself.” I hold up his knight in my hand.
“I do need practice, but I’m not a great teacher. Levi would be better than I am for that.”
“I’m sure you’re perfectly adequate,” I tease, and he smiles at that. “We could play for stakes to make it interesting.”
“What kind of stakes are you offering?”
“Favors. Little ones at first and then work our way up to bigger ones once I remember how to play.” I round the little table and stand between him and the chessboard.
“Do I get a favor for winning this one?” he asks, and his eyes follow the movement as I turn the figurine over in the palm of my hand.
“Depends on what it is and if that means you’re agreeing.”
“Do I owe you favors if you win?” His lashes lift as his eyes work their way up my body.
“Seems fair, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t care about playing fair. I care about getting what I want.”
“But I do,” I argue.
He sighs and leans back in his chair, considering my proposal.
“Do we know the favors ahead of time?” he asks thoughtfully.
“I mean, the first one is going to be an introduction to Charlotte. I need to find out how to get three men at the same time and make one a gorgeous billionaire.”
“You get one gorgeous billionaire, or you get three men. You don’t get both.” There’s a firm edge to his voice.
“She did,” I argue with him, even though there’s no real heat in it, and he knows it.
“She has a man with a stag kink and the patience of a saint. You don’t share that luxury.”
“What luxury do I have then?” I point the knight at his chest.
“I wouldn’t call it luxury.” His eyes follow the movement.
“Fine… what kinks do I get to entertain then?”
He gives me a skeptical look, like he’s not keen to answer.
“You have to tell me some. You already know a few of mine. You practically have a list. It’s fair,” I fire back.
“I don’t recall this list. Remind me.”
“If I tell you, you have to tell me.”
“You’ll just use them against me.”
“ For you,” I counter. “Do we have a deal or not?”
“Fine. We have a deal. Tell me.”
“Making a man come in his pants. Hot as hell under the right circumstances.”
“Which circumstances are those again?”
“Making you come like that is hot under any of them.” I grin brightly, and he shakes his head but amusement dances behind his blue eyes.
“Noted. Next?”
“Being tied up. Even though I was cranky at the time, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“As I said… I don’t mind that one at all.” He smirks.
“Nicknames. Especially when you call me them.”
“Definitely noted that one already. Can’t say I’ll ever get used to it, but if it makes you happy, then I’m happy to do it.”
“The whole deal with the devil thing we have going on. It really backfired on you because the idea of being forced to do all these sexy little photos and videos for you… I actually like it. I’ll never admit that in public, and if you’d asked me, I would ha ve said hell no. Never. Especially not with Grant Stockton.” I run my fingers over his tie. “But I like you telling me what to do. How to do it. Giving over control to you. I’m not sure if that’s a separate one but that too.”
His brow pushes higher. “If you had told me that Dakota Hartfield likes to cede control anywhere…”
“It feels good with you. Like I can let go for that little bit of time.” I spin the knight in my palm. “And the way you react to it… You got softer.” I look up at him. “It makes it feel safe.”
“You’re always safe with me. You know more than anything that’s my priority.” His tone shifts back to business.
“I know.” I nod, and then I give him an expectant look. “Now… your turn. I’ve been asking for weeks.”
“I think you might have given me a daddy kink. It wasn’t something I liked before, but fuck… the way you call me it… I shouldn’t though. It’s fucked up.” He shakes his head.
I can’t help the grin, but I try to smother it anyway. He clocks it, and his lips flatline in admonishment.
“What?” I say defensively. “It’s just… kind of a thing for me too now. Again, I would have hated it with any other guy. But with you…” I trail off before I say something shockingly vulgar. “Anyway—what else?”
“Watching you touch yourself. Playing with your toys. Knowing you’re thinking of me while you do it. Doing what I tell you while you do it.”
“I figured that one.” I smirk.
“Yeah, but I’ve just started to realize some things that I didn’t before,” he muses.
“Like?” The smirk fades to a questioning smile, and I raise a brow.
“Like.” He stands and snatches me up. He carries me to the far side of the room where there’s a bar stretched across the back wall. He lifts me on top of it, and his hands fall over my thighs. I wore this dress for him, a little summer sundress I thought would get his attention, and his eyes track over the frilled hemline as his fingers tease me there, pushing it higher.
“When you did this at the bar, I thought you were trying to humiliate me in front of everyone—that that was maybe your kink with all those guys. But now I realize why you did it.” His eyes trace over my skin as he speaks.
“Why was I doing it?” I ask, setting the knight down on the bar next to me and leaning back on my palms to watch him.
He reaches over the bar, grabbing a bottle and a fresh glass. He pours a couple of fingers of whisky, sets it down on my other side, and then sinks back onto the stool to look up at me again. A devilish grin spreads over his face.
“Did you wear panties?”
“No. You told me not to.” I watch him carefully, trying to get some read on him besides the fact that he’s up to no good.
“Perfect. Spread wider for me. Like you did at the bar.”
“I had shorts on then.” I hesitate.
“There’s no one but me watching now.” I look around the room because I know he has security throughout the hotel. “No cameras in here. This is for private meetings only. I wouldn’t let anyone else see.”
I spread wider, and he pushes my dress up my thighs to give him a better view.
“We might not get along well on any other front, but on this part, we’re a match made in hell. The way you like being watched, and I like watching. Touch yourself for me.” His eyes meet mine with the dare, and I slip my hand between my legs to do what he’s asking.
“I like watching too.”
“I know you do. But you like watching me watch you even more. You like having my attention however you can get it. Don’t you?” His hands go to the inside of my knees and nudge them farther apart. “You can have every man’s attention in the bar, but if it’s not mine, it’s not good enough.”
“I don’t know. That one with the curly red hair and the sweet drawl. He wasn’t bad. I bet he would have been eager.” I’m only joking with him, and he knows it. He still makes an unimpressed grunt and sinks lower on the stool to watch me as my fingers tease over my clit.
“How many guys do you think spend their nights fantasizing about you?”
“After a night at the bar? I don’t know. Not many. I imagine most of those guys go home with someone.”
“Someone they’re wishing was you, and if it’s not, the next night they’re tugging on their little dicks imagining you spitting into their mouths. Dozens I bet. And that’s before we even get to your subscriber list. I bet there’s one of them getting off right now on their break at work imagining the sounds you make.”
“I think you’re exaggerating, but I like the way jealousy sounds on you.” I taunt him as I slip two fingers inside and close my eyes, imagining they’re his. I need his hands on me, but I’m too interested to see where this fantasy of his is headed.
“I was. I would be.” His eyes are glued to my hand, watching how wet I’m getting, and his tongue slides over his lower lip. I’d kill to have him take a taste of me right now. Watching him watch me is like a drug. “But then I figured it out.”
“What’s that?” I ask softly, distracted by the way the tension in my nerves pools lower and lower with each pass of my fingers.
“They imagine you. But you? You imagine me.” His eyes dart up to meet mine. “I’m the guy who crawls into your head every night. The one you imagine with his hands all over your body, whispering his wicked, fucked-up thoughts in your ear. I’m the one you need. Because you don’t want to be some guy’s fantasy on a pedestal, you want someone to be the real deal. You crave it—hate fucked, tied down, and used up. The way I tried to push you over the edge with my demands, the rope, the orders, all the things I thought might set you straight, but you like it.”
I scoff, but I can’t bring myself to argue with him. Just listening to him say it has me getting wetter by the second.
“Answer me,” he demands.
“Yes.” It’s a breathless confession, but truth all the same.
“And I’m the only one you think has a chance in hell of living up to your needs.” He points out the obvious for his own satisfaction.
“So fuck me and put me out of my misery. Put yourself out of your misery. You’re not saving all those photos out of the goodness of your heart to save me from myself. You want them.” I hold his gaze with my own and watch the war play out behind the blue depths.