21. Tamayo
TAMAYO
D arius waits as I stride through the lounge. He’s unruffled despite his time spent in the basement with Antoni. When he finishes scanning the room around me, he flicks his eyes left, like he’s pointing behind him. I pass pockets of men with women draped over one or two like pretty shawls and stop beside Darius.
“It’s done,” he rumbles.
I nod. “Zarina?”
“Pat’s outside the bathroom.”
I hum, looking down the hallway opposite the lounge. “Leave my card with Jimmy’s man and the district attorney.” I brush past him without another word. I don’t have to specify which card or which of Jimmy’s men, because Darius knows. It’s his job to know. And I have more important concerns to attend.
My jaw tenses and my steps staccato as I aim for the restroom. I asked one thing of Zarina before we came— behave . Stay with me and don’t offend anyone. Of course, she couldn’t honor even that simple request. The only time she listens is when she’s half-gone, flushed red with my fingers knuckles-deep inside her .
Fuck. That train of thought is not helping.
Pat tries to stand in my way, blocking my path into the powder room and to the door behind them. “She’s still inside.”
“I know.” I push past them.
They scoff and sidestep to beat me to the door. “Can’t a girl have a bowel movement?”
The force of my glare would make every single one of my people cower—even Darius—but Pat rolls their eyes like they’re not inviting violence with the action.
They cross their arms, and all I want to do is grab their wrist and twist. “Just wait a minute, and she’ll be out.”
“It’s been fifteen,” I say through clamped teeth.
“All the more reason to wait.” They must be severely confident to stand in my way without fear.
“Pat.” It’s my last warning. “Move.”
“You’re not my don, Tamayo,” they snap back.
“Half the underworld’s most powerful people are here.” I rest my hand on their shoulder, my thumb in the crook of their neck and my voice dripping with honeyed threat. “Don’t cause a scene.”
“And what are you doing, then?” They meet me octave for octave.
“To these people?” I bear my canines. “Taking what’s mine.”
Pat curses, and I don’t wait for them to step aside, reaching behind them to grab the door handle, push it open, and slip past. They let me.
The door swings closed behind me as I stop two feet inside the room. It’s too large for its intended purpose, the toilet behind textured glass and the lighting dim. There’s a vanity with a huge, gilded mirror hanging above it and a sink across from it. Zarina leans toward her reflection and rubs her lips together as she caps her lipstick. She dabs at the corners, the crimson color as bright as the rubies at her neck and on her finger. She doesn’t spare me a glance as she replaces the tube in her purse and adjusts her hair like it isn’t already perfect.
“Impatient, much?” She scowls at me through the mirror.
The gold chains across her back glint in the low light. “I told you—five minutes.”
“How long’s it been?” she asks, too innocent.
“Longer.” I press my hand into my pocket and slouch into nonchalance.
She pouts into the mirror, her eyes on mine. “Poor baby. Can’t survive without me, hm?”
Without conscious choice, my feet carry me further into the bathroom until I’m arm’s length from her. “You said you’d behave.”
She smirks. “I didn’t.”
“That was the deal.” My teeth grind.
“I don’t keep promises I don’t make, Tamayo.” She snaps her purse closed and finally twists to face me, wearing that imperious look she learned at her father’s—no, likely her mother’s—knee. “You told me to behave. I took it under advisement.”
I crowd closer until the distance between us could be closed with a deep breath, my chest expanding to brush the silk of her dress. My voice drops to a rumbled whisper. “Why’d you come to the bathroom, princess?”
“To use it, Tamayo.” Condescension coats each syllable.
I tilt my head. “With the door unlocked?”
She shrugs, and it makes her dress tickle my shirt. “I forgot. Pat usually stops the trash.” She looks me up and down, heavily implying I’m said trash.
My hand rises of its own volition, my body acting as if it’s separate from my mind, and yet I have no objections when my fingers brush hair. And neither does she. “We’re in the belly of the beast, as you put it. You shouldn’t be unarmed and alone behind unlocked doors. ”
“I don’t know if you heard”—her voice hardens to steel—“but I can take care of myself.”
I drop my hand, and it smacks against my thigh. “Fuck’s sake, Zarina, can you set aside your pride for one goddamn minute?”
“Oh fuck you, kettle,” she scoffs.
“Would it make you fucking behave ?” I growl.
“Excuse me?”
“Logic doesn’t. The threat of violence doesn’t. What will it take?” I unbutton my suit jacket and rub at the back of my neck. The memory of Zarina pliant in my lap won’t stop running through my head. It was the only time she’s softened, stopped butting heads like a bull charging the matador. “Is that what it takes?” I murmur to myself. “Will a good fuck help you behave?”
Zarina rears. “Jesus Christ, fuck you, Tamayo?—”
“I could pin you against the vanity.” I press forward until she backs into it with a jolt. The basket of complimentary products wobbles. My gaze rakes over the flush of her cheeks, down to her neck, her heaving chest. Her body reacting without her permission. “I could pull your pretty straps down, watch your nipples harden.”
“Tamayo.” She tries to warn me, but it’s more breath than censure.
I lift my gaze to hers and let a smirk slink over my lips because it makes her eyes dilate. Every time. “I could lift you onto the counter, put your legs around my waist. Make your skirt ruck up just right.” I rest my hands on the counter on either side of her, our noses millimeters apart. “You’d play with the hair at my neck that you like. And I’d play with your nipples until you arched real pretty.”
She swallows too loud. “The door isn’t locked. This is inappropriate.”
I chuckle, more breath than sound, my mouth at her ear. “That’s what you like, though, isn’t it? Somewhere a little public. Someone on the other side of the door, of the partition.” I drag my nose down her neck and pull back to look her in the eye again. “Maybe I’d turn you around, make you watch in the mirror as my fingers skimmed your dress. Hold your throat tight as I fucked you. Right here. In the belly of the beast. All those men outside who wish they could have you but never will.”
Her breath hitches, eyes blown black and skin flushed red.
“Do you want that, princess?” I ask. Because fuck, I do. My hands tighten on the marble countertop with the force of the desire coursing through my muscles. “Want me to fuck you pliant?”
Zarina’s narrows her eyes. “It won’t make me behave.”
My smirk only widens. “I’d like to test the theory.”
“What changed your mind?” she asks. I know what she’s referring to—the end of our last tryst. When I told her to find me when she figured out what she wanted.
And I could provide a litany of reasons, not least of which is her in that dress and my own frustration. But I bite my tongue. I’m not sure I did change my mind. I’m not sure I’ve made a conscious choice since I let the bathroom door closed behind me. I’m running on instinct and desire and the throbbing ache pulsing under my skin. We stand quiet, my thumbs brushing the silk over her ass and her fingers playing with the lapel of my jacket. Both waiting for the other to move first. To choose.
My chin falls closer to her lips.
Her fingers fist around my lapel.
I drag a hand up her spine, cup her neck with my thumb at the corner of her mouth.
“Tamayo,” she says on an exhale.
And then a heavy knock cracks on the door.
“Time’s up,” Darius calls.
Zarina leans back at the same time she pushes against my chest. Her face, so open and expectant a second ago, closes off again, a scowl scrunching her brows. I consider telling Darius and whoever’s waiting outside to go fuck themselves, but I can’t afford the insult. Not yet. Instead, I swipe my thumb across Zarina’s bottom lip before she can stop me. Red lipstick smudges across her chin.
She huffs, jerking back. “What the fuck?”
I transfer the red on my thumb to my own lips. “An excuse for our delay.”
“You’re unbelievable.” She pushes me further out of her orbit.
“Thanks.” I put more distance between us as she checks her reflection in the mirror, but doesn’t fix her makeup. Darius knocks again as I unbutton my shirt and re-button it wrong. “Coming!”
Zarina grumbles, and I could swear I hear something like, hopefully someone is .