Chapter 15
Guiding Eve back to the car that awaited us outside of the Forked Tongue, I allowed her to slide into the backseat of the blacked-out SUV first.
Once we were both settled, the driver pulled away from the curb to bring us back home. As the city’s lights passed in a blur just outside the window, I reached over and pulled a chilled bottle of champagne from a built-in ice bucket.
The cork popped free in my palm in a controlled release.
“That money could have been put towards Tighe’s bail,” Eve bit out before she yanked the bottle from my grip.
Watching as she drank straight from the bottle, I settled in for the ride with an arm extended along the backrest as I angled myself toward her. My legs stretched out enough to get comfortable, and my knees spread in a display of complete relaxation.
“It could have,” I conceded. “But would it get him off the hook with Rip? You think he won’t hesitate for just one minute to use either of you as leverage against each other?”
I scoffed when she simply stared at me with no answer. “You have a lot to learn, Little Spade.”
She leaned forward, the condensation from the champagne dripping onto the black leather seat between us. “Oh, fuck off! I didn’t ask you to be some twisted mentor in the art of societal power plays. I don’t give a damn about whatever game you’re playing here.”
“Don’t you, though?” The hand resting on top of my knee tapped a finger twice in response to my increased agitation. “Tell me you wouldn’t kill to be in a room of people who adored you, that you don’t want the best luxuries money can buy.”
I paused before adding, “Go on. Tell me you don’t want to be fucked by the best cock you will ever dream of.”
My hand dropped between my legs, palming myself unrepentantly.
Too far? Maybe.
Worth it to see her cheeks turn crimson and her eyes light up with enough fury to feed an army of wrath demons.
At that exact moment, the car rolled to a stop at the back entrance to Sevenfold.
I swung the door open, ignoring Eve’s screeching behind me as I stepped out.
Before me was a door designated solely for staff to enter the backstage areas of the building, areas where patrons never visited and the casino’s magical ambiance remained where it belonged.
Stepping to the door, my fingers curled around the vertical handle as my ace of spades flashed before a small reader to the left.
A crystalline crack to my right snapped my head in its direction just in time to witness glass and champagne explode against the wall. Frothing bubbles trailed down the brick exterior in a decadent mess of shards and spilled foam.
“Cheers,” I muttered with all the dryness of the Superbian desert, pulling the building’s heavy steel door open as Eve came tumbling out of the back of the SUV.
If the narrowed glare she shot me as she passed by was any indication, tonight was going to be quite fun.
Entering behind her, I watched her try to navigate the unfamiliar halls, providing me with both exasperation and amusement.
After the third wrong turn, I grabbed her hand tight enough to prevent escape but not to hurt. Trying to keep up with my longer strides, her heels hurriedly clacked against the epoxy floors as I cut through the secondary kitchen.
By the time we reached my penthouse, I released my hold on her. She distanced herself several steps, chest heaving slightly from whatever emotions were raging beneath the surface.
“You’re keeping something from me, and I want to know what it is.” Both a demand and an accusation rolled into one sharp statement from her clever tongue.
I shrugged off my suit jacket, neatly folding it over the back of a chair at the breakfast table.
“Eve, believe it or not, not everything revolves around you.” A half-truth. There were only a handful of matters that were unrelated to her in my life. Everything else echoed back to keeping her here with me. Keeping her safe and desired. Keeping her mine.
Loosening my tie, I glanced at her sidelong. Her defensive stance told me she wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon. After resting the black silk over my jacket, I approached the wet bar, undoing the top couple of buttons of my shirt on the way.
“Don’t bullshit me.” She followed me, grabbing the bottle of my favorite whiskey before I could reach for it.
“You going to throw that one at the wall too?” I raised a brow, with half curiosity and the lilt of a tease.
Her hand grabbed a glass and poured enough of the amber liquid to knock out a small rhino.
“Come hell or high water, I will find out what your play is. You hear me?”
She raised the glass to her lips, looking determined to knock it back in one go.
Protective instincts flared, my hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, halting her movement.
“Easy. Don’t want you passing out on me just yet.” I winked as I guided the glass to my mouth, her hand still wrapped around it. Tilting the glassware, I swallowed a mouthful of it down, leaving just enough behind for her.
Her eyes studied me, watching the flick of my tongue over my lips as I collected the last remnants of the oaky booze from them.
At first, I mistook the heavy gaze for fascination and maybe a hint of infatuation. Then came the warmth that bled through our hands where they joined around the glass. Her lips parted, a short but sharp inhale preceded her pulling away. Her pulse visibly jumped in her throat.
Shit.
The precognitive shields I had lowered at the Forked Tongue never fully locked back in place. An oversight I would pay for. I erected the metaphysical boundaries, but it was too little too late.
Don’t panic.
Panic wouldn’t help whatever she saw happening between us.
I set the whiskey down, keeping my hands where she could see them. But there was no hiding the tension in my shoulders, ready to react at a moment’s notice if she tried to bolt.
In a voice gentle enough to soothe, I said, “Whatever you think you saw…”
That was the problem. She could have seen any number of things I wanted to do to her tonight. Most of them had to do with my dick, but not all. But I knew whatever she had seen had her spooked.
One slow and telegraphed step forward pushed her to take one clumsy step back.
Great. I didn’t have time for this bullshit. My patience came at a premium.
A sigh as rough as sandpaper escaped me as I lowered my hands to my sides. “Tell me one thing, Eve. What you saw, did it frighten you? Or are you just rattled because it excited you?”
Her jaw ticked as she clenched it.
Silence surrounded us, except for the clinking of the ice cube maker in the background. If she refused to answer, to deny whatever truth lay between us now instead of confronting it, so be it.
“Fine. Have it your way. When you’re ready to face reality, let me know.”
I snagged the whiskey bottle by its neck, frustration mounting that I was being blamed for something I hadn’t even done yet. Either she enjoyed what her vision showed her, or it left her scared.
Denial didn’t suit either of us.
Halfway to the stairs, her voice came out hoarse but steady. “Where are you going?”
I took a long draw from the whiskey before responding gruffly. “Didn’t you see it in your vision?” The bitter edge mimicked the burn of the alcohol down my throat.
On that note, I retreated to the master bedroom where I holed myself away in the en suite bathroom. The slam of the door behind me rattled the frame, the bottle threatening to crack when I set it down on the sink vanity, and my temper brewed like a storm unlike anything Superbia had ever witnessed.
My hands gripped the edge of the sink hard enough to threaten the porcelain’s integrity. Each breath that filled my lungs acted as an effort to maintain control. I wouldn’t unleash the hellfire that ran hot in my veins on her—never on her.
Yet, to say that I wasn’t vibrating with tension would have been a lie. My jaw locked down tight enough to threaten cracking my molars.
Staring into the mirror at my reflection, my eyes flickered between the deadly calm shade of hemlock and flashes of crimson from the demon trapped beneath the facade.
Despite Eve testing my self-control, she would realize her role in my deck of cards when the time was right. I just needed to hold my hand until the right deal came along.
My skin felt like it was burning up, my shirt was too tight, and my body held enough pent-up energy to power half the city.
I pulled at the shirt’s buttons, sacrificing a few when I used too much force.
Jerky movements tore the fabric from my body, suspenders snapping free as I stripped down.
All my clothes ended on the floor in a lifeless heap.
One savage twist of the shower faucet, nearly dislodging it from the wall, and the bathroom quickly filled with steam that promised to seep into my muscles.
Taking the whiskey with me into the open stall, the multiple showerheads beat down on me. My hand wiped water away from my face and through my dark hair.
I wanted to be under her skin, not her under mine.
When the tables turned, and I was the one who couldn’t see what lay ahead, why the fuck did it bother me so much?
The occasional sip of whiskey chased away thoughts that crept too close to something resembling vulnerability.
By the time I scrubbed myself raw and drank enough to feel a pleasant looseness in my body, I emerged from the shower feeling my control steadying.
That was until my temper was reignited by the pounding of small hands on the bathroom door. It seemed someone hadn’t cooled off.
Fucking persistent, if nothing else.
The wooden door buffered Eve’s voice, but her resurgence of confidence rang unmistakably clear. “You have something else coming if you think that coming up here to brood all night is going to avoid giving me answers I deserve.”
I stood there, dripping onto the bathmat, dead set on letting her blow off all her steam a little longer. Ace Reynard didn’t bow to the whims of pissed-off little spades.