Chapter Two #3
Perched precariously on the bar stool of the Diamond Lounge, I pretended to be in my own world as I sipped my cocktail and swayed to the music playing inside the nightclub.
I’d lied to Hunter.
I didn’t go to Pilates at all.
Instead, I snuck inside my brother’s club while he was away so that I could be eye fucked across the long length of the marble bar.
It’s been a few weeks since I got the timing right, so imagine my delight and sudden disquiet when I walked inside the Diamond Lounge an hour ago to see the man I’d been fantasizing about for two years sitting in his usual spot.
I’m going to talk to him, I vowed silently.
I resisted the urge to fuss with my appearance to ensure that I was up to par.
I promised myself that if he came tonight, I would finally shoot my shot, and there he was.
It’s the only way I’ll ever know if the burning looks and slow sweeps of appraisal exchanged across the glittering surface of the marble-top bar for the last two years meant something.
For my sanity, I had to put an end to this longing that’s been plaguing me for years.
Sink or brick—tonight, I’m giving my crush no choice but to claim me now or let me go forever.
From the moment I first saw him, I’ve had eyes and thoughts for no one else, and the dry spell that came from it had me ready to hump a wall. Hunter’s been calling me Miss Coochie Cobweb.
The nightclub was upscale, so even though my crush had forgone his usual suit, he was still mouthwatering in a fitted black shirt buttoned only halfway and an understated but no doubt pricey watch on his wrist.
His identity was no mystery to me, though. In fact, it was the reason I stayed away.
Ocean Kilpatrick was a foolish, terrible dream.
The man had more blood on his hands than God.
Hunter would have me committed for even daring to fantasize about a man like that. What would she do if she knew I’ve been sneaking here at least one night a week for the last one hundred and four weeks with the hope of living them out one day?
The thirty feet or so separating me from Ocean was the closest I ever allowed myself to get in the five years since I first saw him.
I was twenty the first time, but my brother had been adamant that I stay far away from the underboss.
The second time was two years ago on the night when it felt like my world had been yanked from under my feet.
That night had been the end of a chapter I never thought I’d close and the start of my obsession with the bloodthirsty prince of crime.
I couldn’t say why I’d come back to the club the next night looking for him, especially after fleeing in terror, but once I had a taste of Ocean’s attention, I became addicted. I couldn’t help wanting more of that thrilling feeling if I tried.
Most of the time, seeking him out proved fruitless.
But on the nights it didn’t…
We never spoke. Not once.
No matter how many times I offered myself up on a platter for him to feast on, he never made a move.
He would just openly eye fuck me and then ignore me until I felt stupid and left, only for my dumb ass to spin the block once the sting of his rejection wore off.
I’ve never been thirsty, so I didn’t know why I kept torturing myself.
All I knew was that I was playing with fire, but it was the promise of the burn that kept me coming back.
It didn’t matter what I wore or what I did, though. The asshole never took a bite.
A year ago, I even tried making Ocean jealous, but I quickly regretted it when the man I’d chosen found himself grabbed out of nowhere and thrown out of the club.
It was the first time I’d almost broken character to curse Ocean out, but the look on his face that night warned me not to fuck with him, and my scary ass took heed and never tried it again.
I stared despondently at my drink as I felt the familiar doubt creeping in.
Was it all in my head?
“Girls Need Love” by Summer Walker was a dull roar to the deafening drum of my heart.
I wanted to look and see for myself if it was real and not imagined—that I was indeed the focus of Ocean Kilpatrick—but I was too much of a coward.
I had used up all of my bravery coming here tonight.
I’d lost count of how many nights I snuck to see him without Hunter or my brother learning about it.
They didn’t see eye to eye on much, but they’d both lose their shit if they knew.
One way or another, this game of ours had to end.
So go over there, the horny devil on my shoulder whispered. Talk to him. He’s only a man.
But like every night that I’ve given in to temptation and sought him out, something always held me back from actually going for it.
Could I handle him? I wasn’t so sure.
Could he handle me? I wasn’t sure of that either. Not when the other half of me—the part I loved more than anything—was sure to run him off like all the others.
And how long are you going to keep allowing Hunter to dictate your love life, hmm?
Groaning, I raised my hand to request another drink, but it was gone quicker than the first, so I ordered another and then a third.
I’d actually worn all white tonight as if it would make a difference.
My dress had a deep plunging V in the center and was tight enough to accentuate what little curves I had.
The heels I’d borrowed from Hunter, even though her feet were bigger than mine.
The white thigh-high boots made me feel sexy and confident enough that I actually believed I could accomplish my mission tonight.
There was only one problem.
I hadn’t counted on the foreboding in the air. It curled inside my gut, filling me with tension and not the kind that made my thighs quiver.
Something was wrong.
Tonight, everyone had gathered on my end of the bar as if they could sense Ocean’s dark mood as well.
He was surrounded by his usual armed bodyguards who didn’t so much as twitch as they stood with their backs to him, clocking every one who came and went or ventured too closely.
Only one of the men from his security team ever spoke directly to him, but even he mostly left Ocean alone, standing a little further away than usual.
It’s been two years, and I still haven’t learned the scowling bodyguard’s name.
He was rougher around the edges than Ocean’s polished, almost aristocratic presence, but he was handsome with a closely shaven beard, a long jagged scar over his left eye, and dark eyes.
I didn’t notice much else about him, though. I only had eyes for his charge.
Fury rode Ocean’s thick brows and the sculpted line of his jaw while he reviewed the paperwork in front of him before barking something to his head of security. The man nodded and swiftly departed, only to return moments later with a familiar face frozen in terror.
It was the exact opposite of how I usually felt, being the sole focus of Ocean Kilpatrick’s attention.
Ocean and I wore twin expressions, but for different reasons, as I watched him question Brandon, who answered quickly. What the hell could Ocean want with my brother’s club manager?
Their exchange went on for a while before Ocean suddenly looked my way as if he had just remembered I was here. Before I could feel some type of way or pretend I wasn’t attempting to eavesdrop, he turned his head to bark an order.
Immediately, Brandon was seized and dragged away by two of his guards.
As soon as he was gone, Ocean calmly took one last sip of his drink as if nothing was amiss before rising to his feet.
He was so goddamn tall that my kitty purred at the sight of him.
Ocean’s dark gaze flicked toward me in that moment—too fast for me to erase the desire from my expression and I stopped breathing when he actually paused.
For the first time in two years, we stared openly at each other rather than the covert glances we exchanged when we thought the other wasn’t paying attention.
He looked…
Fuck.
He looked like he wanted to snatch me up and drag me away like Brandon before he shook his head and spat a vicious curse, abruptly severing the moment and departing with a twitching jaw.
It was the first time he’d ever left the club before me.
I was still reeling from seeing Ocean casually kidnap someone with hundreds of witnesses around when a shadow fell over me, and I looked up to see the head of Ocean’s security standing there.
“Coby Perry,” he greeted, as if it were a fact and not a question. He knew who I was, and I knew who he worked for. There was no sense in pretending.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Kilpatrick would like you to know that it’s time for you to go home now.”
My belly immediately sank. “Excuse me?” All I could do was blink in befuddlement since this wasn’t our usual game.
Ocean and I never acknowledged one another, even though we both knew I had a crush.
He and my brother did business together, but I didn’t know the extent of it.
Roshaun refused to tell me, only ever saying it was safer if I didn’t know.
Either way, getting involved with my brother’s business partner and a made member of the Fola would have been a mistake for many reasons.
“Ocean’s retired for the night and requests that you do the same.” When I didn’t move and only stared, the grump lifted an impatient brow. “We can escort you home if you’d like?”
What the actual fuck? “No. No, that’s okay. Um…thanks for letting me know.” Rolling my eyes, I turned away and considered ordering another drink.
Who the fuck did Ocean think he was ordering me around like that?
Expecting the guard dog to leave now that his message had been relayed, I scrolled on my phone for a few minutes, but he continued to stand there until it became more than clear that he wasn’t moving until I did.
Feeling like every eye in the club was on me in that moment, I reluctantly left my seat with a grumble and gritted my teeth when Ocean’s bodyguard trailed me out of the club.
Outside, I immediately looked around for Ocean, but he and poor Brandon were nowhere to be found. The walk to my car felt long, and by the time we reached it, I was feeling reckless, so I spun around to address the silent bodyguard. “Where did your boss take Brandon?” I demanded.
The man didn’t react other than to slide his hands into his pockets and answer vaguely. “Somewhere quiet to talk.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
The bodyguard shook his head. “It’s best if you don’t know.”
“What does Ocean want with him?”
“It’s best if you don’t know,” he echoed.
Realizing that I wasn’t going to get any real answers out of the man, I shook my head while the past two years played by in my mind like a shameful PowerPoint highlighting all my terrible decisions. “What’s your name?” I softly requested while staring at but not truly seeing the passing traffic.
I could feel the bodyguard staring at my profile for a long while, and I thought maybe the question was too personal before he surprised me. “Abel.”
“Abel,” I said, testing his name. It was nice.
“Please tell your boss that I don’t take orders from him and that I don’t appreciate being toyed with.
I thought…” I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply before letting it all go.
“I thought he was interested in me,” I confessed honestly and pathetically.
“Clearly, I was wrong. You can also tell him that I’m not coming back.
I’m done with this charade.” The man searched my gaze for a moment, probably trying to assess my seriousness, before dipping his head in a polite nod. “Thanks. Goodbye.”
Abel didn’t return the farewell as he shut my car door for me. As I drove off, I glanced in the rearview mirror to see a phone plastered to his ear, already relaying my message to his Boss as he watched me drive off.
It didn’t matter.
I meant what I said.