Chapter 34
Leilani
Koby’s mouth is everywhere.
On my neck, my shoulder, the swell of my breast, the inside of my thigh. He’s covering me in hickeys, sucking where I demand.
Anton has to believe I’ve been passed around like a bowl of nuts, used and marked up, or he won’t snap the way we need him to.
The more ruined I look when his eyes find me during the auction, the harder it’ll hit him. The smallest scrape on me never failed to send him spiraling throughout the years I spent locked in his apartment. Anything less than flawless skin and Anton got unhinged with worry.
The hickeys will look like bruises by tomorrow evening and Koby’s more than happy to suck a dozen onto my skin.
“Here.” I tap my index finger against a small mark in the dip of my collarbone. “Make this one darker.”
He bites, sucks, and my body jolts. It hurts, but in that thrilling, titillating kind of way that leaves me wanting more. He pulls back, lips wet, wild eyes trained on the bruise as it blooms a darker red. His thumb drags over it, a feral look crossing his face, hair falling over his forehead.
“You have no idea how sexy that is,” he says, lowering his head again. “I love seeing you marked like this.”
“Anton will hate it.”
Koby stiffens, inhaling deeply. “I know why we’re doing this. No need to remind me, hellcat.”
My cheeks flare. Koby’s possessive tone coupled with his hands all over me sends pulsing heat through my veins. I’m so wet it’s shameless. I probably shouldn’t be turned on by this fucked-up ritual, but every scrape of Koby’s teeth, every claim he lays on my skin makes my heart swell.
“Okay, let me see,” I say, climbing off the bed.
He follows me into the bathroom and stands behind me, chest pressed to my back, hands on my hips.
The hickeys are strategically placed. Some I’ll cover badly with concealer, most will remain under my dress. I won’t show them unless there’s no other choice.
Even though I asked for them, even though they have a sole purpose—enraging Anton—they’re a very intimate part of me that I’d rather not share with anyone other than Koby.
He watches me in the mirror, eyes hungry as he scrutinizes his handiwork. My collarbone is dotted with angry splotches, the soft skin under my jaw flared, and my thighs are peppered with throbbing bites of all sizes.
I’m not Anton’s doll anymore.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I ask when Koby’s thumb circles a mark on the apex of my right breast.
He presses a soft kiss to my temple, inhaling a deep, shaky breath. “You have no idea.” He pushes his hips forward, the swell of his cock heavy against my ass. Another kiss lands on my shoulder. “You need one more,” he whispers, closing his lips where he kissed me. “Just one more.”
He’s wasting time on purpose, dreading the night ahead.
We’re supposed to be on the road with Carter, Ryder, and Broadway in less than forty minutes, on our way to Pittsburgh so we’re in position to call Anton tomorrow morning.
An hour later, my suitcase is zipped, my shoes on, but Koby drops to his knees in the hallway, lifts my t-shirt, and plants another dark mark high on my ribs.
“We’re late,” I say. “And how do you suppose Anton will see that? Do you think I’ll strip?”
His fingers dig into my thighs. “This one’s for me.” He’s about to add another, but his phone rings, Carter flashing on the screen for the third time in two minutes.
“Come on, we need to go.” I pat his head. “Enough stalling.”
With an exasperated huff, he rises to his full, intimidating height, grabs both suitcases, and juts his chin at the door.
***
Koby didn’t speak much on the journey. Carter took one look at my wound-up boyfriend and ordered him to the back seat, where Koby glued his hand to my thigh, flexing his fingers every few seconds like he was checking I was still there.
Broadway and Ryder didn’t follow us to Noretto’s, heading straight for a hotel by the auction house. According to Koby, Broadway’s avoiding Noretto until there’s no other choice. And even then, Ryder’s supposed to make sure he doesn’t kill the guy.
“We’re here,” Carter announces just as Blaze’s mansion emerges between a line of thick trees.
I’ve seen it before. I lived here for a few weeks, but the sheer size will never fail to take my breath away.
It’s a fortress. Big iron gates, stone walls that could probably withstand bombing, cameras peeking out under the roof, and two huge dogs sniffing at Jax’s feet.
He waits outside, flanked by three oversized men dressed in black. He looks tiny in comparison. Frail.
Carter kills the engine, stepping out first, his broad shoulders obscuring Jax as they reluctantly shake hands. Koby follows, his fingers lacing with mine. He helps me out, then immediately tucks me under his arm.
“Koby,” Jax greets with a nod, apparently aware a handshake is out of the question. He turns to me, scrutinizing my prominent hickeys. “Leilani. Looks like you’re having fun in Columbus.”
“Don’t make me finish what I started at the hotel,” Koby grits out, fusing me into his side.
Jax’s lips curl in amusement. “Relax. She’s your problem, not mine.” He turns on the sole of his leather shoe. “This way.”
My pulse quickens. I don’t mind Blaze or Jax, but Koby’s not far off ticking, and I’m dreading what’ll happen once the countdown hits zero.
Inside, the house smells like wood polish, flowery perfumes, and gun oil. The guards trail behind us, closing the door just as Noretto appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in an immaculately pressed, tailored black suit.
When Octavius dropped me off here, the opulence of the old house faded into the background once I saw Blaze. I’d heard the stories and had a pretty good idea what kind of a man I’d face, but I was dead wrong.
I expected a man of his reputation to be in his late forties at least, but Noretto’s in his mid-twenties. I expected a ruthless, crass man with two half-naked women stuck to his sides, but he’s polished, empathetic, well-spoken.
There’s something magnetic about his contradictions. On one hand he sells young women to brothels, on the other, he’s uncommonly respectful, and careful.
When I raged, throwing fists, biting, and screaming, he never once grabbed me hard enough to bruise. Not even when I clocked him in the nose so hard blood gushed down his snow-white shirt. He never raised his voice. Never punished me for lashing out, even though he could have.
At first, I thought he put Jax in charge of my safekeeping because he was sick and tired of my tantrums. Now, I think he simply didn’t have enough hours in the day to talk me down from my frenzied fits.
Jax didn’t bother. He manhandled me until I relented, though he never physically hurt me.
“Willard,” Blaze greets, his voice smooth, almost musical. His gaze shifts to Koby. “Maddox. And... hello, Leilani. You look less cruel than last time. Columbus seems to agree with you.”
I can’t help but smile. “I can’t complain.”
“That’s new.” His eyes glint, crinkling in the corners, but the amusement quickly morphs into tension as he reaches his hand toward Carter. “Welcome.”
The atmosphere changes, growing heavier. Time ticks way too loud in my head. Three, four, five seconds pass before Carter shakes Noretto’s hand, muscles shifting and betraying how much that small gesture costs.
Blaze holds on half a beat too long before releasing.
Koby follows Carter’s lead, though his grip is sharp and dismissive. I expect Blaze will extend me the same courtesy, but he just inclines his head and leads us into the dining room.
It’s as elegant as the man himself.
A long table sits in the middle, silver cutlery gleaming in the low light of a crystal chandelier hanging above. The smell of roasted meat, garlic butter, and ripe tomatoes fills my nose.
Blaze takes the seat at the head and silently invites us to sit.
“I expected Broadway and Ryder to join us,” he says, nodding at two empty place settings.
“They went straight to the hotel,” Carter supplies, his jaw sharper than the knives on the table. “Where they’ll stay until they’re needed. We don’t want the evening to turn violent, do we?”
Blaze chuckles as if Carter’s made a joke. “I assume staying out of Broadway’s way would be wise.”
“Staying away from Violet for the rest of your life would be wiser.”
Silence falls again. Seeing as all three men look ready to grab their steak knives and duel instead of eating, I roll my eyes and loosen the tension by filling my plate.
Reluctantly, Carter follows, then so does Koby. He doesn’t eat, though, his hand squeezing my knee under the table.
Noretto knows the plan as well as we do, but Carter walks him through the details again, and Blaze listens, nodding along like they’re discussing stock prices rather than plotting murder.
It’s clear in the way they exchange details that they’re both unhappy about the collaboration, but since they’ll both benefit from it, they grit their teeth, playing civil.
Dinner ends an hour later when Carter wipes his mouth with a napkin and pushes away from the table. “I’ll be up early tomorrow morning,” he tells Koby. “Don’t start without me.”
“We won’t.”
“Good. Try to get some sleep. It’ll be a long day.”
Blaze stands too, following Carter out, their footsteps echoing all around.
“How are you doing?” Koby asks, squeezing my thigh twice. “You never told me if Blaze hurt—”
“He didn’t do anything to me,” I cut in, covering his hand with mine. “Relax, okay? You’re stressing me out.”
A sharp nod is all I get.
At least he’s not sulking...