Chapter 2
2
LUCA
“ L ooks good, Carlos,” I say as I scan the interior of the club I co-own with Anthony. Part of it burned down months ago, and despite feeling that it was arson, some kind of foul play because of who we are, we haven’t been able to pinpoint what happened. To top it off, no one has been implicated in it and we have no leads.
Bane insists it was his old fuck-buddy turned enemy, Henry. The same one who conspired with the Aces to hurt Tatum. But no one can find him, and so all we have are loose ends and a shit-ton of questions.
“What do you think of the new design?” Carlos asks, and I nod. He’s the contractor I hired to do the job because he’s good at what he does and knows who to remain loyal to.
Me. Loyal to motherfucking me.
So far I haven’t had any issues.
“Looks good,” I reply as my gaze sweeps around the large space. The interior is different than it was before, with little touches added to make this luxurious VIP club even better. This includes the back rooms I had constructed after visiting Eden that one night three years ago. I’d wanted to make the changes sooner, but never had reason to until now.
A little competition never hurt anyone.
Even if that competition is myself.
My mind flits to Viktor, taking man after man, his back bowed, his mouth open in pleasure, before I push it away.
He’s been taking up far too much of my headspace recently. It’s been gradually increasing.
Three years ago was a mistake.
A fucking lapse in judgement.
And watching him take his panties off and give them to the twins…well, that may have ignited something inside of me I thought I’d buried.
Or maybe I’m lying to myself.
I exhale for a long beat and then follow Carlos around the building, letting him point out all the additions and upgrades he and his men have made, per my specifications and Sabrina’s very helpful suggestions.
“Grand opening is next weekend?” he asks, and I nod.
“That’s the plan.”
“We’ll have it ready.”
“Wonderful,” I reply, and then grab my phone and let Sabrina know. She’ll be bringing a van full of women for the back rooms, a little extra incentive for those who have money to spend. In the end, Sabrina and I will come out richer and the customers who want to utilize it will be happier.
Perhaps I should add men to the menu as well.
Just as I think that, Viktor appears, wearing dark jeans, black Converse sneakers, and a tight gray t-shirt. I let my gaze travel over his wide shoulders, down to his narrow waist, and stopping right at his groin. His dark hair and dark eyes are the perfect combination with his tanned skin. He shifts on his feet, and I feel my lips curl up at the corners as he fidgets uncomfortably. Good. I want him to be fucking nervous.
The way he’s been toying with me.
With my thoughts. With the way I dream.
I fucking hate being controlled like this.
I’d rather have a different soldier follow me around, but Anthony insisted.
He trusts Viktor, wants to make sure I have someone to watch my back after almost losing Tatum. Viktor Sodaro has been with the Costello family a long time, not as long as I have, of course, but still. He was Anthony’s main bodyguard for a decade, and he trusts him with his life. And so here I am, saddled with this fuckface. I shouldn’t hate him this much, not when he does things for me that most wouldn’t. Like carry about that fucking electric lighter, or kill spiders when they invade my space.
Or save you from a fire . Right in this very room.
A shudder moves through me and I push it away. I won’t go there.
I won’t fucking go there.
Flames lick at my fingertips and I pick up my pace, pulling a cigarette from my jacket pocket and placing it between my lips. I want a smoke. It’s a terrible habit but it’s the only thing helping me keep my anxiety at bay. I smoke so the demons inside stay buried. Right where they belong.
Viktor appears at my side and holds out the lighter, calming me almost immediately. It’s not his presence that does it.
It’s just the smoke invading my lungs.
“Good boy,” I murmur, and his cheeks darken as I move forward once more. His blush makes it worth it. I like making him squirm. It’s an entertaining pastime.
Even if it does remind me…
“Stop fucking saying that shit,” he says as he trails after me .
I don’t respond, letting him think I didn’t hear him. Let him stew on it. I’ll do what I want. I always have. He gets no say in it. He may have invaded my thoughts, made me lose sleep all these years, but he won’t control the way I do business.
“Would you like to see the back rooms? They’re coming along nicely,” Carlos interrupts, and I nod, the three of us moving toward the back, taking in the dark tiled floors and the walls taped off for the painters. This is going to be quintessential sex—dark reds, blacks, and purples.
I can’t wait to see it when it’s done.
We make our way to the first room and step inside. Two men are working on painting the walls a dark rosewood, a small speaker playing music in the background.
“The bed will be over there,” Carlos explains before adding, “And we have the equipment on order as well. Everything should be delivered tomorrow and will be set up after the painters get done.”
“Good,” I say and then flick my gaze over to Viktor. “What do you think?”
He scans the room but doesn’t respond.
“My friend here is an aficionado when it comes to sex clubs,” I tell Carlos.
“I’m not your fucking friend,” Viktor murmurs.
I can’t help but chuckle at that. He’s not. He’s my worst fucking enemy. There’s no rhyme or reason for it, but I don’t like him.
The way he makes me think about him when I don’t want to be thinking. The way he’s always around…
“Come here,” I say, pointing to the middle of the room. I know this will only make it worse, but I do it anyway. “Bend over here.”
Viktor’s eyes darken. “What the fuck for?”
Carlos eyes me, questioning why Viktor is defying me, but I ignore those looks. He won’t say a damn thing about this.
“Who’s the boss, Viktor? Or do I have to remind you again who fucking owns you? Go bend over. Hands on the floor.”
His knuckles crack, but he moves forward and does as he’s told, arching forward, his ass out, his hands on his ankles.
I inhale and blow smoke from the corner of my mouth. Something twists inside of me. Like that night. It twisted and curled until I was helpless to give in.
“Hm, what do you think, Carlos?”
He doesn’t answer, which is good. He shouldn’t fucking say a word. Not if he wants to live.
“Can I fucking stand up now?” he hisses.
“Mm. Yes,” I say, and then we follow Carlos into each room, inspecting them, and in each one, I make Viktor bend over in different parts of it, one time even insisting that he get on his hands and knees like a fucking dog.
By the time we make it to the last room, his dick is hard and he’s fuming.
He fucking hates that he likes it. And I hate that I like making him obey.
We’re both equally fucked up.
“Up against that wall, Viktor, arms and legs spread.”
“Fuck no.”
I reach out, pressing my fingers into his cheeks and squeezing tightly. His lips pucker and his cheeks redden in defiance.
“Listen to me.”
“Fuck you,” he murmurs through those pink lips.
My hand slides down his cheeks to his neck, and I squeeze it roughly, making his eyes widen slightly. Seems I like choking him. It’s becoming quite the hobby.
“Don’t forget who I am, Vik,” I say, loosening my hand but keeping it against his neck. He inhales sharply and I move my face closer to him, breathing in the scent of him.
I remember that scent.
My thumb smooths over his Adam’s apple, and his eyes go slightly glassy.
He may fight it, but he likes it.
“Do as I say, Vik,” I say gently, and he nods, moving away from me and pressing his face against the wall, adjusting his arms and legs exactly how I want them. My eyes rove across his splayed body as I run a hand across my jaw.
It’s not enough.
This isn’t enough.
“I’m not getting the true feel for what this space will be used for. Pull your pants down.”
Carlos shifts on his feet near me, clearly uncomfortable, but I don’t give a shit. I pay him money to shut up and do what I want. I don’t want his opinion on this.
“I’m not doing that,” Viktor hisses, still not moving from his place against the wall.
I drop the cigarette onto the ground and grind it out with my shoe before stalking forward, reaching out and squeezing the back of his neck, shoving his cheek against the drywall even harder.
He grunts as my hand moves around to the front of his pants and I unbutton them, my fingers brushing against the bulge there. With a flick of my wrist, I unzip him and wrench his pants down his ass until they can’t move an inch more.
I hold him steady as I step back and glance down, taking in his dark blue lace panties. His ass cheeks flex and I can’t help but reach out and yank them up, the fabric moving up his ass crack. He gasps and then I hear it—a soft, desperate moan.
I step back, turning to look at Carlos, who is looking anywhere but me.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“Good, sir,” he murmurs, and I huff out a dark laugh, moving my gaze back to stare at Viktor still pressed against the wall, his ass cheeks hanging out, his eyes shut.
“Don’t fucking pretend you don’t love this,” I whisper into his ear before sinking my teeth into that fleshy lobe. His eyes flash open, and he scowls at me.
“I hate you ,” he murmurs, and I can’t help the way my hand falls roughly on his ass cheek. It pinkens from the slap and Viktor purses his lips, his hips arching back just a fraction of an inch—almost invisible, but I see it.
I fucking see it.
“Pull your fucking pants back up. We have other places to go,” I grind out before turning back to Carlos, the two of us walking out of the room without a backward glance, leaving Viktor to scramble after us.
He’s pissed, fuming.
I like it more than I should.
When we get back to the car, Viktor’s cheeks are red, smoke coming out of his ears. Well, I’m unhappy as well.
I’m unsatisfied.
The things he makes me feel.
I pull out my phone, knowing that ignoring him bothers him more than he cares to admit, and that gives me a little thrill.
He starts the car without a word and we drive to the next location on our list, an MMA gym. Normally, I’d drive here myself, but I’m dragging him along today. I like the way he tries not to look when I’m shirtless, throwing punches in the ring.
I see the way he stares.
When we arrive at the worn-down building, one I’ve been using for years, I exhale a small sigh of relief. When I’m not boxing with Anthony, I’m here, blowing off steam and training for the underground fights I participate in when I feel like I’m going to explode.
My anxiety can only reach a certain level before I fucking need to cover it up with pain. The kind of pain that burrows under my skin and makes me feel alive again.
The only other time I’ve felt that was a night…three years ago.
“I’ll wait in the car,” Viktor says, but I point at him.
“No. You’re coming inside with me.”
“You don’t fucking need me. You have a bunch of men in there who’d kill for you. I can stay in the fucking car. ”
“And Anthony asked you to protect me. Now, what would he think if I told him you weren’t following his orders?”
He huffs, but gets out of the car, pulling his jacket over the gun tucked in the back of his pants and following me inside. As we step over the threshold, I’m greeted by a few burly men who also nod at Viktor. We stop and chat for a minute before we make our way to the locker room. It’s there that I throw my things onto a bench and start to undress. Viktor’s eyes slide from the lockers beside me to my body, lingering on my bare skin. I may undress a little slower because of those eyes on me.
“Why don’t you step in the ring with me?” I suggest as I pull on my shorts and grab the tape for my hands.
“Because I don’t want to fuck you up.”
A laugh escapes me at that. “Or maybe you don’t want to get too close to me,” I say, stopping in front of him and leaning forward, his lips hovering near mine. “Wouldn’t want you to come in front of everyone with my name on your lips. Or would you like that?”
He frowns, his cheeks darkening, but doesn’t deny it.
And that gets me through my entire workout. Knowing he’s watching me. Lusting after me. He tries to hide it, but I can see it. The way he adjusts himself as his eyes track over my muscles, the way he bites his lip as I land punches on my opponent. I may take a hit or two, but every time I do, I peer over at Viktor and see him wetting his lips. Like he wants to crawl into the ring and lick the sweat from my skin.
When I’m done, I hop down, wiping my face with a towel and moving toward the locker rooms.
“Need you to stand guard while I shower,” I say, unable to help myself. He’s so fucking fun to toy with.
He grumbles under his breath but doesn’t talk back, just follows me to the communal shower and stands near the entrance as I strip my clothes off, tossing them at him until I’m completely naked. There are two other men under the water who nod at me as I enter, but I barely notice them. Because my gaze moves to Viktor as I squirt soap onto my palm and rub it into my hair and then down my body.
His nostrils flare and his hands curl into fists as I continue to wash. The other two men finish up and move past me, disappearing behind the lockers, leaving me alone in this large space. I lean my head back and let my hands trail down to my cock, cupping and tugging it.
Viktor clears his throat, and I peer through wet lashes to meet his searing gaze.
For some reason, the idea of him walking up to me and sinking to his knees makes my cock thicken.
I’ve never been obsessed with another man like this.
Anthony and I may have done things in the past, but that was strictly with Laura. It was never him who got me going.
Even if I did like watching.
It was always her.
But now…
“Like what you see?” I ask, my voice low.
“Fuck no. It’s disgusting.”
I let out a laugh and let my cock drop from my grip, rinsing off before turning the water off. He holds out a towel as I stride toward him, and I grab it from him, wrapping it around my waist and pushing past him, making sure to bump into him as I go.
He falls back slightly and then, without warning, he shoves me so hard that I stumble forward and fall into the lockers with a clank.
A few of the guys still changing peer over at us, and I hold up my hands, wanting to diffuse whatever that was. Perhaps I pushed him too far.
Perhaps I didn’t push him far enough.
I know how rough he likes it.
“It’s all good,” I tell them and then turn on my heel and face Viktor, whose chest is heaving, his eyes a little wild. “Touch me again like that and I will bend you over and make you regret it.”
His breath hitches and I can’t help but step toward him, reaching down and grabbing onto his dick. It’s hard and thick in my palm, and I squeeze it roughly.
His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as I twist my wrist, making him whimper, his body shifting up onto his toes.
“I’ll make you hurt, kitten.”
I twist a little more and then let him go, moving to my locker without a backward glance, my lips twitching up and my dick half-hard.