Chapter Ten #3
"Nothing," I told her, hands going into my front pockets, shoulders curling forward slightly, a sly smile pulling at my lips. "Just picturing you in a little black dress."
"Oh yeah?" she asked, her own eyes twinkling as she placed Petunia down, nearly stepping on Padfoot by her feet as she moved around the coffee table toward me. "And what does this little black dress look like in your head?" she asked, coming up close enough for our chests to brush.
"Tight," I told her, hands running down her back to sink into her ass. She smirked every time it happened. Which was often. Not that you could blame a man. I'd never seen anyone with an ass like hers.
"Tight sounds like it would work," she agreed, leaning up on her tiptoes, something I knew made her ankle twinge, but she didn't even cringe as her head dipped, her lips pressing into my neck. "Anything else?"
"Short," I told her, hand slipping up her back under her shirt, smiling when I realized the bra had been the first thing to go when she got in the door.
"Lots of leg, huh?" she asked, teeth nipping my earlobe.
"You know, I have a better idea than a black dress," I told her, snagging her shirt, dragging it up.
"Yeah, I like this better," I told her, hands closing around her breasts, feeling her nipples harden immediately.
I had figured, the first time, she had been so reactive simply because she had fantasized for so long about the moment.
But it turned out I had underestimated her.
Her body was sensitive to every slight touch.
Her hands clawed at my clothes, rough, impatient, nails slicing flesh in her need.
I worked her free of her clothes, hands sliding down her back, grabbing her ass, hopping her up, feeling her legs instinctively folding across my lower back .
"Purse, counter," she murmured against my lips, guiding me in that direction, dropping her down on it on her back, going down to a squat, licking up her sweet pussy as she fumbled impatiently through her bag.
"King, please," she pleaded, hands sinking into my hair, grabbing, pulling me back upward, stabbing the foil into my hand.
A flush had broken out across her chest, her back arching.
If there was ever a look I hoped I never got used to, it was her looking at me with pure need as she begged me to slide inside her.
After protecting us, I did, yanking up her legs, pressing them against my shoulders, my hand going between us to toy with her clit as I fucked her, hard, fast, as she begged for harder, faster, until she shattered around me, crying out my name as she did, taking me with her.
"As much as I like this," she told me a few minutes later, voice even. "I think we'd cause quite a scandal if I showed up naked."
"Guess we're going shopping then, huh?"
"Mmhmm. What time does it start?"
"Nine or we will miss the ride."
"Okay quick dinner, shopping, back here to get ready," she told me, reaching to grab my arm to help her sit up. "Oh, what about the babies?"
"It's just a couple hours. They will be fine," I assured her as she hopped off the counter, walking away from me, that glorious ass bouncing as she moved, snagging her clothes, sliding into them, then assuring the dogs that we wouldn't be too late, that they didn't need to worry, that she would give them super special treats before we left.
"And Daddy will take you for a walk while I get pretty later, right?" she asked, turning back to look at me, eyes innocent even as her words landed with impact.
Sure, she was talking about dogs. But it implied something, didn't it?
"I mean... I can walk them," she said, straightening to stand, misinterpreting the look that must have been on my face.
"No, I'll walk them. They'd go stir crazy waiting for their mother to get all gussied up."
There it was.
The look that must have been on my face a second before.
Surprise, confusion, pleasure, hope, a little bit of fear, insecurity.
"I, ah, we should get going. I will go grab my shoes," she said, rushing away.
We were new, I reminded myself.
There was time for that later.
But tonight, tonight we were getting dressed up, slipping on blindfolds, and getting driven to an ultra-secret underground casino.
It was a hell of a first real date.
--
Her hand was a death grip on mine from the second the blindfolds came out.
We had been the first to show up at the pickup site, followed shortly by Richard who gave me a small smile, and shooting a somewhat sad look at Savea.
The black eye was long gone, as were her stitches.
But there was an angry red scar down her temple that no amount of makeup could cover.
She'd been a good sport about it, never having been that vain to begin with, saying it gave her face some character, would make people think she was more of a badass than she was.
By the time the guards appeared—one of whom I recognized, the pretty boy with the ever-present cigarette from outside the laundromat—there was a small crowd, seven of us in all, men and women alike, different ages, different backgrounds, but each of them with an unmistakable aura of power that was undeniable.
I wondered if they pegged us as the odd-men-out, or if we managed to fit in well enough.
"See he found you," the guard said as he came to stand in front of Savea, holding her blindfold. "Those fucks," he added eyeing her scar.
"Doesn't it make me look like more of a badass?" she asked, her red lips spreading wide in one of those infectious smiles of hers.
"Yeah, babe," he agreed with a small smile as he slipped her blindfold on before moving on to me. He said nothing to me, but something in his eyes suggested he was glad I got her back, that she was no worse for the wear.
From there, we were shuffled into the stretch. I pulled Savvy down on my lap, not wanting her out of reach when I couldn't even see her.
I could have sworn I heard a chuckle when I had done it, but chose to ignore it.
The ride wasn't long, maybe fifteen minutes, but we weren't allowed to take off the blindfolds until we were led down a flight of stairs straight from outside.
So it was in a basement.
Not that knowing that narrowed down the location at all.
"Alright, blindfolds," the guard who had spoken to Savea demanded, collecting them all as we ripped them off.
Beside me, Savea was bouncing on her new ballet flats, hand squeezing mine.
"I don't even know how to gamble," she informed me in a low whisper. "I pretended to know when Peyton wanted to play once, but I just kept folding because I had no idea what was a good hand or not. Do you know how to play?"
"Not as well as anyone here, I'm sure," I told her, pulling her close as everyone started moving past as the door was opened. "But enough that we can play a few hands before they start throwing too much money around."
"I don't want to stay long anyway," she told me, starting to worry her lower lip with her teeth before remembering she had put on lipstick.
I'd seen her made up before. On occasion. For big holidays. Some mascara, eyeliner, lipstick. It was always an added punch to the gut I didn't need. But this time, there was something else.
A possessiveness, a pride.
It was maybe a bit base of me to think it, but I was over the moon to have her on my arm as we finally fell into step behind the last person in.
I can't say for sure exactly what I had been expecting. Maybe something dark and seedy. Like poker games in the back room of a butcher shop in mob movies. Tables, chairs, cigar smoke in the air.
Whatever I had been anticipating, this certainly was not it.
This was, essentially, an actual casino. Underground.
Everything was there from a small row of slot machines against a wall, a long bar with a stacked back bar full of mirrors, and an oversized, intricately carved card table complete with cupholders and a place to store your chips. The center was made of black felt for the cards to glide across.
Black, that was the theme.
Black and gold with a very subtle hint of red.
The walls sported oversized canvas art in moody black and white, some with the occasional splash of red or glint of gold like a gun.
And just like any real casino, there were cameras and guards everywhere.
"Wow," Savea said with a dreamy exhale, half turning in a circle to take it in.
"Yeah," I agreed, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, holding her close as everyone moved around, greeted one another. They'd been oddly silent at the pick-up location, everyone all but ignoring everyone else.
Maybe when they were still on the street, they all felt like they needed to be who they were, keep up appearances in case anyone saw them.
But here, it was clear that everyone was old friends in a detached sort of way. They got to let down the guards their professions—whatever they may be—and coexist.
"How did Harry fit in here?" Savea asked, shaking her head at the people who, while seemingly from very different lifestyles, all oozed wealth and importance.
And Harry, well, didn't.
Not even close.
Hell, we didn't even fit in and we had gone all out dressing like we did. I'd never seen Harry in anything but jeans and various old t-shirts.
"Alright, so who are you?" a woman's voice asked, making us both turn to find her standing there, a perfectly manicured hand wrapped around the stem of a white wine glass.
She was beautiful. In a way completely opposite of Savea.
In a rather cold way from her perfect ice blonde hair to the cutting light blue eyes, the impeccable bone structure, the svelte figure draped in gray slacks, an ice blue silk blouse, and sky-high stilettos.
Diamonds glittered at her ears, understated, but undeniably real. Expensive.
"Don't worry. We do names here. When we walk back out these doors, everyone agrees—we have never seen each other before."
"I'm Kingston Rivers. I have a private security company. This is Savea."
"I manage a pet store. We're just here because I got kidnapped and beaten up," she supplied, making one of the woman's perfectly groomed brows raise slightly.