Chapter Four
A yesha’s eyebrows shot straight up. “Um, what?”
Sutton hiked her thumb toward the offending porcelain. “Mr. Didmedirty John Potty, over there. He shot his whatever.” She flapped her hands in the air. “All up in my lady bits and didn’t even give me a happy ending or a ring.”
“Oh my. That wasn’t very nice of Mr. DJP. Do you want me to call for a backup dirty boy?” Mirth shone in her dark eyes.
“Ha, no. Men are trouble with a capital T. I’ll stick with my BOBs. They never let me down, and when I finish with them, I can just shove them underwater, and they don’t bitch.” Sutton laughed. She turned away, hiding the hollow look she was sure Ayesha would see.
“You know, you can have both. King has a huge cock and also uses—”
They heard a banging on the bathroom door followed by King’s deep bellow. “Ayesha, are you in there, woman?”
She rolled her eyes. “He has a tracker on me.”
The smile as Ayesha tottered toward the door lit up her entire face. Sutton wanted that. She did. Well, without the whole marriage part.
“Hello, husband,” Ayesha shrieked.
“Ssh, my love. It’s time we head out. You good?” King asked. His intense gaze caught Sutton’s through the open door.
If freaking out over the simple act of having the President of the RBMC standing in the doorway to the ladies’ room, doing a little talking to you, meant you were okay, then yep, she was absofuckinglutely great. He stared at her with Ayesha snuggled up in his arms like she wanted to crawl inside his body, waiting. Shit.
“Yeah, I’m good. We were just chatting while being accosted by the toilets,” she sputtered, slapping her hand over her mouth.
King quirked a brow up in question. “I’m going to assume that’s a play on something I don’t need to know about. Unless you need me to unalive someone and call for a cleaning crew?”
For some inexplicable reason, she didn’t think he was kidding. “Ha, good one.”
“He really is a good one. You need to find yourself a sexy biker like I did. Especially one who likes to spank you,” Ayesha whimpered.
King’s hand on Ayesha’s ass slid between her asscheeks, leaving no doubt what was making the other woman moan.
“And that’s my cue to take my bratty wife home. You get a ride home or stay in one of the guest suites here if you had more than one drink,” he said.
His authoritative tone, unlike most men, didn’t make her bristle. “Will do.” If she’d driven, it wouldn’t be an issue. Her home took less than fifteen minutes by foot to get to. The night stroll would be good for her scattered thoughts and hopefully clear her brain of ridiculous notions of sexy strangers.
King lifted Ayesha into his arms, cradling her as if she weighed little more than a child. Of course, to him, she probably didn’t. The woman was tiny compared to Sutton. The duo made her wish for things she would never have.
Ayesha waved like a happy wench from King’s arms as he sidestepped through the door, leaving Sutton and her jealousy in the bathroom. After giving herself a pep-talk, she splashed water on her face. At the core of every person, male or female, they wanted what they couldn’t have. She was no different.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she ran into a solid wall. Her head lifted, opening her mouth with an apology on her tongue, ready to say she was sorry. The words dried up before she could utter a syllable. Kendrick’s arms caught her by the shoulders. His touch was firm, comforting, almost frighteningly so.
“Hey, sorry.” He held her steady for a second before releasing her.
The loss of his touch made her shiver. She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It was my fault for not paying attention.”
He chuckled darkly. The sound made the hair on her arms stand up. She really shouldn’t be turned on by the deep tone. Dear lord, everything about him excited her. In the quiet hallway with only the two of them, she could picture him sweeping her off her feet like King had Ayesha. In her mind, there would be no protestations, only pleasure.
“Your eyes are so full of expressions. My fucking dick is hard enough to drill fucking nails in concrete standing here looking at you. Do you have any clue how damn innocent you look in that dress? The filthy fucking things I’ve imagined doing to you over the past four fucking hours are probably illegal in several countries,” he growled.
Her body jerked like it had a mind of its own and wanted to get closer to him. Jesus, she needed to take a step back, not get closer to him and beg him to do all those things he’d just spouted and more.
“I told you before, Kendrick. I’m not that innocent. You’d be the shocked one if you were aware of my secrets.” She shrugged up one shoulder. Cool air blew over her chest.
They both looked down. The bodice of her dress shifted during their collision, exposing half of her right nipple.
Before she could put it back in place, his hand was there. She trembled under his touch. Kendrick didn’t ease the lace fabric right over. Oh no, he slid a finger under and ran his knuckle over one pebbled nub.
The moan sounded foreign to her ears. It shouldn’t feel good, she told herself. Dominance radiated off of him as naturally as breathing. Raw, untamed, and fucking hell, she wanted to be the one he unleashed it all on.
“Passerotta, don’t pay checks with your eyes your body can’t afford.” He caressed her nipple and then put the fabric in place. “A man would kill to own a woman like you,” he whispered next to her ear.
KENDRICK LEFT HER STANDING there with her mouth wide open. He’d seen her pretty pink tongue flick out. His dick jerked, wanting to feel her lash across every inch of his skin with it.
He pushed his feet to move. Taking the exit at the end of the long hallway, he opened the door and pulled his cell phone from his slacks. “I’m ready to leave. Be out front in two minutes,” he barked the order and hung up.
He would not look back to see if she had returned to the main room. If he saw her in the same spot, mouth open, he’d lose the tether on his control. Control kept his family safe. Control kept him from becoming a bastard like the man who raised him.
As long as he is the one who leads, there’s no fear for those around him or under him. He might be a sadistic fuck, but taking care of his people was his priority, whether they were his family by blood, chosen, or oath. That goes for the women he’s bedding.
“You good, Boss?” Andre asked. He held the door open to their car.
“Mmm,” Kendrick growled.
“Straight to the house?” Andre lifted one brow.
Kendrick looked out the side window. He was fucking tired. Shit, his little brother married the love of his life without overthinking. Why couldn’t he do the same?
A fortune teller wearing a fake medallion would do better than him at predicting the future. The goal to succeed, where his father failed, fueled his every waking moment since he’d taken over as the Calderone Don. Many said he’d been too young, too inexperienced at twenty-five. Thirteen years later, they didn’t question whether he could handle the Family. Unlike his father, he didn’t take lives indiscriminately. He didn’t take women against their wills. He walked a fine line that kept their businesses off the radar of local police and government agencies. Control and finesse worked hand in hand. When that failed...Kendrick took matters to the next level.
“Are you going to have a mental breakdown on me?” Andre asked.
He ignored the big bastard. The house they’d rented wasn’t far from the MC compound, so he didn’t have to be in a confined space with Andre and his bullshit for long. “Did you get the information I requested?”
“Some has come through. Still waiting for one more report that I requested.” Andre let out a deep breath.
His knuckles shone white with how hard he held the steering wheel. There was no mistaking the death grip his hands had on the thing. It was as if he could imagine the leather was something or someone else.
A vehicle passed them, followed by another. Both were nondescript with tinted windows. Which shouldn’t have raised any red flags. Kendrick grew up with a huge motherfucking red flag as a father. He’d learned to listen to his inner alarm when it told him something wasn’t right. Right then, it was screaming, saying there was no reason for two dark vehicles with blacked- out windows to drive on the road leading up toward the RBMC compound.
“Did you see those two SUVs that just passed us, Andre?” he asked from the backseat, wishing he’d sat in front.
“Two Escalades. Two males in the front. I couldn’t tell if they were Caucasian or not, nor could I see if more were inside the vehicle. The second vehicle also had at least two men inside. From what I saw, they were wearing all black, which isn’t illegal or alarming. However—” he trailed off.
“Fuck. Turn around.” He pushed the lock open on the console. “Here,” he said, passing a Glock to Andre.
Shaking his head, Andre gave a grim smile. “I’ve got mine.”
Kendrick pulled another out, inspecting the clips in both. “Good thing this car isn’t a rental.” The Dragma Family were gracious enough to allow him to enter their territory for his brother’s wedding. As the LA Mafia, they controlled operations similar to what he did, but his reach was more significant. Kendrick and the Calderone Family demanded more respect. But this was a trip for personal reasons. The last thing he wanted was to start a war.
“I don’t see their taillights.” Andre’s tone bordered on anger.
Kendrick punched in the number for King. The line rang and rang. “Fuck, he’s probably balls deep in his woman.” Calling Jeter would get the same result. He remembered the big bastard T-Rex had promised to hold down the fort. With a quick scroll through his contacts, he hit call when he found the name.
“Who is this?”
“This is Jeter’s brother. I just left to head back to my rental down the road. We’d only driven about a mile when suddenly, two dark SUVs were coming toward us. Andre double-backed, but they’re nowhere to be seen. My instincts tell me something isn’t right,” Kendrick explained.
T-Rex grunted. “I’ll get back to you. Are you coming back here?”
There was a hint of suspicion in his question. Kendrick didn’t blame him. “We’re going to go a little further down the road. We turned left when we exited since the house we rented was in that direction.”
Kendrick wasn’t used to explaining himself to others. He was the one others fell over themselves to spill all their secrets. Fuck, he needed to tell Andre to return to the rental so he could get some sleep.
Whoever said silence was golden hadn’t been on the receiving end as their nerves were on edge. Of course, Kendrick used silence to his advantage during interrogation and at times when it benefited him. Yet sitting in a car waiting for T-Rex to speak stretched his control.