Chapter 8 Conrad
CONRAD
“Pssh. What the fuck are you playing at?”
The way her luscious pink orbs sparked for a second before icing over with mistrust sent a rush of heat through me. Something about her staring me down like I was some gutter-level hustler, a nobody, dumb enough to think I could con her, nearly made me laugh out loud.
But I knew she wasn’t the one being tested. I was.
She was the one I should’ve been afraid of, the Syndicate’s legendary fists, a woman who could tear me in two and walk away with blood glistening on her hands, her name still untouchable.
And yet… I couldn’t summon the fear I should be feeling.
All I could think about was how gorgeous this ballbuster of a woman was.
How just hearing her rich timbre did something to my insides.
Throwing my hand out, I tried to steady the air between us and build a fragile bridge since she clearly hated that I’d hidden my species. “How about we start with you calling me Conrad?”
She didn’t so much as twitch. Her arms stayed crossed, her tone sharp as an executioner’s blade. “You can call me Boss Rossey.”
My jaw ached from holding back the grin that wanted to spread across my face. She thought she was putting me in my place. Instead, every clipped word, every bite of ice in her voice only made me want to taste the heat I knew was simmering underneath.
First and foremost, I was a businessman, but none of my previous business deals had ever made me this hard.
Well, if it was over seven figures, I got a bit of a chub.
I’d built my empire by staying in control and picking the right untouched markets, like the turned supes market.
Everyone knew the Syndicate had a firm hold on the supe community as a whole, but there were always cracks when you made a fist. Always a small minority group that was being left out, and that was the turned supes.
Partnering that untapped market with the elite humans that wanted the thrill of being right in the face of a beast, experiencing it up close and personal, I had found myself a little gold mine.
It wasn't easy being a turned vampire who was trying to court fancy humans.
I had to claw my way up the ladder, going from making back-alley trades all the way up to boardroom contracts where the big boys took me seriously, but I wanted more freedom.
I wanted to enjoy myself instead of always working for the next deal.
To do that, I needed a solid partner, one who had the manpower and knew what they were doing. It was just my luck that one of her men showed up, trying to be sneaky about needing tickets for a high-value client.
*The second I caught her leaning on the bar, all that carefully crafted control right in front of me, I was transfixed. Something in my veins pulsed for her, hard and relentless. Gravity somehow bent around her, dragging me across the floor.
The room fell away. All I saw was her. Hot and warm temptation sculpted by the gods and wrapped in feminine discipline.
Liquid denim jeans hugging every muscle, a short white top stretched across her breasts, and a cropped jacket covering her arms. She was a statue of strength softened by the mouthwatering swell of her hips and chest.
I told myself to lock it down, to swagger over like this was just another business move, an opportunity to capitalize on, but the moment her scent hit me, my plans detonated.
Floral honeysuckle, sweet and decadent, crashed through my lungs, tearing my careful chains apart. My fangs ached. My vision sharpened. My mouth watered. Every inch of me screamed to devour her, blood, body, and soul.
Need rippled through me, hot and urgent, muddling my mind. My instincts clawed to sink into her veins, to drag her against me and make her mine. I tried to play it cool, not letting her continued rejections of my advances deter me. It only made me want her more.
Even when she grabbed me by the back of the head and slammed me against the bar, all I thought about was how her body felt pressed against mine.
Her hard curves molded perfectly to my frame, and my cock jerked in my pants, my body not caring that we were locked in a battle for dominance.
I wanted her under me. Over me. Wrapped around me.
Inside of me. Her threats only made me harder.
My hands shook from holding myself back, from caging in the part of me that wanted to rip into her neck and drink until she screamed my name. To claim her over and over.
Never before had I felt this magnetizing pull that I couldn't ignore or pass off. I’d never been this attracted to anyone before, let alone a woman who radiated so much lethal control she could break my life apart with her pinky.
Nova Rossey was dangerous and would probably kill me, but, for some reason, my survival instincts were turned off while my risk-taking ones were turned on.
“Okay, Boss Rossey.” She stiffened as her title dripped from my tongue like sin. I’d play her game… for now. Games always ended with a winner, and I didn’t plan to lose.
Twenty minutes ago, I would’ve told you I wanted power, respect, and a seat at the table with the born supes who thought turned vampires like me were trash.
Meeting Nova Rossey tonight was the opportunity of a lifetime.
It was a gamble, too, for sure, one that could help me achieve what I’d always dreamed of, but the second I saw her, all of that was put on the back burner.
Now, all I wanted was to bury myself so deep inside her she’d never forget my name.
The crowd roared as someone hit the mat, and her jeweled eyes flicked toward the noise. The sight of her attention drifting elsewhere burned me raw. My teeth clenched as I forced myself not to snarl. This place was too loud, too distracting. I wanted her attention on me and only me.
She let me go, and I leaned in, lowering my voice to a husk meant for only her ears. “Let’s move this somewhere private. You can tell me everything you need from me.”
Not giving her the chance to reject me, I slid past the bartender and tapped the fake brick. A keypad appeared, and I punched in the numbers. A concealed door swung open, revealing the darkened space that was my backroom parlor. I motioned her inside, my voice silky and inviting. “Ladies first.”
She looked back at Zeth, her second, who was standing up again, ready to follow her.
My teeth ground together when I caught the way his eyes clung to her.
Pathetic. The glare I sent his way promised I’d cut him down if he followed us.
“I’d be more comfortable if it was just you and me,” I said roughly.
“I won’t bring anyone either. Unless you’re… afraid?”
She tilted her head, studying me the way a predator would prey.
Thirty long seconds ticked by before she strode toward me, her chin tilted high, her mouth curled into something sharp.
She brushed so close her scent nearly undid me, her growl vibrating against my chest. “You don’t bother me in the least, Mr. Conrad. ”
The way she wrapped my name in that venomous purr made my lips split into a feral grin. She thought she was still in control, but with how her eyes were eating me up, it seemed like we were both on edge. I just hoped it was the same sexy edge, not the rip-my-chest-apart edge.
Her head turned back to Zeth, and with just a slight shake of her head, he stopped in his tracks. She lifted her hand, tapped her watch, and gave him a look. Panic flashed in his wide eyes before his training snapped back into place. He forced himself to nod. What a good little puppy.
Then she turned her back on him and glared at me before stepping into the room as though she owned every inch of it. When she didn't look back, expecting her silent orders to be obeyed without question, I licked my lips and gave him a wink.
With his back straight and his face getting all red, his gaze followed her as closely as a shadow.
He only tore his eyes away once she was gone, then he turned them on me.
Pure venomous hate seared into my skin. He flicked his eyes toward where she’d vanished, then back to me as he dragged his thumb across his throat. If she got hurt, I was dead.
Lucky for him, hurting her was the furthest thing from my mind.
In fact, even the business deals and plans I should be thinking about weren't anywhere near my thoughts. All I wanted was more of her and that intoxicating honeysuckle scent that made my veins pound like war drums. I was never much of a warrior type guy, but I’d be damned if she didn’t make me want to sign up for the damn Rossey clan.
Walking up to the threshold, I turned around and saluted Zeth just before the door slid shut in his face. The way his whole body coiled into fight mode was deliciously satisfying.
“You said you’d tell me anything I wanted to know, didn’t you?”
Her voice cracked through the silence, crisp, commanding, wrapped in heat I couldn’t ignore.
She was already across the room, sitting in my high-backed chair at the desk, legs crossed with the grace and power of a queen on her throne.
She’d left me the smaller seat across from her. Message received.
To her, I was just another underling being brought to heel.
Damn. She was good.
If she thought that was enough to put me in my place, she was dead wrong.
This little game only made me harder. Adjusting my pants, I sauntered over, but instead of sitting where she wanted, I prowled around the desk.
Facing her, I casually perched on the edge right next to her, sitting close enough to feel the heat radiating off her.
Her narrowed eyes sliced into me, and I would be lying if I said sweat didn’t bead along my spine.
For a split second, her lips moved in the faintest twitch. It was so quick you could’ve missed it, but I didn't. She liked me. She just didn’t want to admit it yet.