Chapter Three
Iris
If given the choice, Ghost would not leave my side for one second, and maybe that should scare me.
The man is possessive and gets visibly irritated anytime a man approaches the bar and tries to flirt with me.
This kind of attitude from a man whose actual name I don’t even know should terrify me but instead, all it does is light a fire under my skin.
It should terrify me that even when he’s not around me, I can feel his eyes on me as I work. The cameras in the bar never bothered me before but I’ve found myself awfully conscious of them and knowing Ghost is on the other end watching me doesn’t exactly make working easy.
It makes me uneasy but not for the reasons it should.
His gaze, even when I can’t see him, feels like a physical caress.
In the days I’ve been living in Ghost’s apartment, I’ve experienced so many ways a man’s touch could drive a woman into madness.
From waking up to kisses in bed and being brought to orgasm with his mouth and hands to showering together and repeating the process all over again day after day.
He touches me every chance he can get. In the kitchen while I make us breakfast or dinner, by the door first thing when we step into the room and yesterday, he backed me into a small alcove and kissed me until my legs were weak.
How in the world does one go from never kissing a man her entire life to experiencing several body-shattering orgasms in a single day?
Christ, I’ve almost forgotten what it is that pushed me in this position in the first place. Almost.
Outside the haven of Elysium, there are dangerous men out there looking for me. The fact that there have been no more sightings of anyone known to be associated with the Víboras Gemelas doesn’t exactly put me at ease. Not when I still haven’t heard from the US Marshall assigned to my case.
“Your boyfriend’s here.”
My eyes shoot up and move straight to the entrance, seeking out Ghost but I come back empty. When I turn back to Tracey, it’s to find her eyes swimming with laughter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, taking a sudden interest in the rag I’m holding.
“Too late for that. I saw the look in your eyes when you thought Ghost was here.”
“Ghost who?”
She chuckles. “Really? You’re going to pretend nothing is going on between you two?”
I twist the rag around my hand, avoiding her eyes. “What makes you think something is happening between us?”
“Hmm, let me see,” she hums, leaning back against the counter. “You’re always seeking him out when you think he’s in the bar and you should see your face when he walks in. Also, someone saw you guys kissing the other day in the alcove close to one of the poker tables.”
Christ. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Hmm, so does that mean I can shoot my shot with Ghost?”
The jealousy that churns my stomach at the thought of Ghost touching another woman the way he does with me must show on my face when I turn to look at my coworker because she laughs.
“There, see. You look like you’re seconds away from strangling me.
” She wipes an invisible tear. “You don’t have to glare at me.
I was just kidding. Besides, Ghost is not my type.
Wait, isn’t he a little too old for you? ”
“I’m twenty-four!” And he’s thirty-eight, but our age gap is none of her business. I like that he’s older than me.
“Anyway, I think the biggest thing is that he’s too…” she visibly shudders, rubbing a hand down her arms like she’s cold. “Dark.”
“Everyone who comes in here is dark,” I argue.
“Not like him. The man barely talks. He doesn’t even drink and the way he looks at you… I mean, he’s good-looking in a daddy kind of way, but I would never be able to overlook the darkness that seems to loom over him all day, every day.”
I want to argue and defend the man but it’s not like I don’t see the dark cloud either but unlike Tracey, I don’t mind it.
I like the intensity of his gaze on me. His intensity in general and how it also manifests in bed when it’s just the two of us.
Granted, he still refuses to cross that line and make love to me.
It seems that something’s holding him back and I can’t figure out what it is.
The man rarely talks about his past before the Steel Sinners and I can’t help but wonder if that’s what’s affecting him.
It also didn’t exactly seem to help my case when I mentioned to him that I was a virgin.
The confession only made him more withdrawn.
“Say I like him,” I start, moving to serve a customer who walks up to order a cocktail. When I’m done, I turn back to Tracey, chewing my lips and wondering what’s safe to share with a coworker. “Hypothetically….”
She smirks, “Go ahead.”
“Okay, let’s say I like him. And this is a hypothetical question. How would I get him to have sex with me?”
Her mouth falls open and her eyes go wide. “You two haven’t had sex?”
“Shush,” I say, looking around to make sure no one’s heard us but the bar is fairly noisy. “Jesus, Tracey, why don’t you announce it to the crowd while you’re at it. Besides, I said it was a hypothetical question.”
“Wow. I mean, the man practically lives in the casino. You two could just go up for a quick tumble.” I don’t care to mention that I’m practically living with Ghost at this point.
Would that make my situation look even more pathetic?
“I mean, how hard could it be to bed a man like that in a place like this? There are privacy rooms everywhere.”
“It was a hypothetical question,” I say lamely, moving to serve another customer who orders drinks to be delivered to their table. I jot down the order and start preparing it.
“Fuck hypotheticals,” Tracey says, walking up to me as I pour whiskey from a decanter. “If you’re asking me how to seduce Ghost into having sex with you, I’ll tell you what my nana, rest her soul, told me is the best way to get a man sweating and panting at your feet.”
“My parents both had me when they were old so I never met any of my grandmothers, but I don’t imagine that’s an appropriate conversation to have with your grandkids.
“Do you want the advice or not?”
I sigh, pouring the next drink. “Alright, what is it?
“My nana told me that the best way to physically get under a man is to get under his skin.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “What does that mean?”
Tracey doesn’t respond. Instead, she waits until I’ve finished pouring all the drinks to take the tray herself and then juts her chin toward the table that made the order.
I follow her eyes to the four men seated around the round table, seemingly in a heated discussion.
“Flirt with one of those guys, or rather, let them flirt with you when you take the drinks over to their table. That’s how you get under Ghost’s skin. ”
My eyes widen in horror. “What? That’s insane.”
“You want those delicious muscles that Ghost carries around all over you and under you? Then go ahead and show him what he’s missing out on. Give him a little push and then wait for him to come to you.”
I shake my head, taking the tray from her and walking to serve the drinks.
Tracey is insane, as was her grandmother for giving her such crazy advice.
Flirting with these strangers would do me no good and yet, as I approach them, I can’t help but think of how much I want to close the distance Ghost is set on putting between us.
Christ, am I really considering this?
It’s a bad idea. No, it’s a terrible idea!
And yet, when I approach the table, four heads turn to me and I notice more than one man interested in me.
Eyes drop to my cleavage and one of the men licks his lips suggestively.
“Here you go, boys,” I drawl, using a bit of the southern accent I’ve been trying to mask.
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
“From you, sweet cheeks, I’m going to need a whole lot of attention.”
I flash a smile at the man who speaks and hope doesn’t come off as a wince.
None of these men do anything for me. Their gaze doesn’t turn my legs to jelly.
My nipples don’t pebble achingly behind my top and the spot between my legs that always aches when Ghost is close doesn’t react to the suggestive looks the men give me.
With another smile, I turn around, convinced that it was a waste of time but then I feel eyes on me, sharp, almost like a burning caress on my skin.
My head whips around and I don’t have to look far to spot him.
He’s standing by the entrance and heck, even his silhouette looks dangerous.
His face is a mask of rage as his eyes shift from me to the table I just served and if possible, his face darkens.
There’s murder written in his eyes and it’s enough to send a shiver rolling down my spine.
For one heated minute, I’m certain he’ll cross the floor and murder all four of the men I innocently flirted with but instead, Ghost turns around and storms off, leaving me standing in the center of the room with the tray hanging loosely in my hands.
Tracey’s grandma was wrong.
And I was foolish for following advice that was sure to blow up in my face. The look on Ghost’s face is burned in my head, and it makes my chest ache—the thought that I made him feel bad. Flirted with other men after everything he’s done for me. After all the care he’s shown me.
My mood has plummeted to the depths of hell as I walk back behind the bar. My chest aches at the thought that instead of prodding Ghost into action, I may have pushed him away. And for what?
“Iris?”
I drop the tray on the counter and shake my head when Tracey approaches me. “I need a break,” I tell her. “I’ll be in the lounge. Call me when it gets busy.”