Chapter 13
Ingrid
Istare at the last man I expected to find here. It would be awesome if the ground would open and swallow me so I can disappear.
My night so far hasn’t been horrible, but I’ll admit I feel out of place.
I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out another way to earn the money I need without having to work here.
It’s not that I think the women who work here are selling themselves short by doing so.
It has more to do with me. I’m not cut out for a job like this.
I’ve faked it most of my life, and I sure as hell don’t want to continue to do so.
Ignoring his sharp, insistent words, I turn to the gentleman I was helping and hand him back his card. “Thank you for coming in tonight. I hope you have a wonderful evening at Kismet. If there’s anything we can do to make it better, please let us know.”
I’ve been saying the same words all night. Each patron replies in near-perfect similarity, and every time it makes me want to go home and wash the night away.
“What would improve my night, love, is if you’d agree to have a drink with me. What do you say? I’ll make it worth your time.”
I’m about to tell him what I’ve told every other man who’s offered—I’m sorry, it’s my first night and I’m not allowed to mingle yet. Perhaps next time. Although I don’t suspect I’ll be returning after tonight, I’m so not cut out for this.
However, I don’t get the chance to say any of that because Darius speaks first.
With a sudden movement, he steps in front of the guy, blocking his path. “Off-limits. She is off-limits. No one touches her. No one thinks about her. No one.”
Arms crossed, I glare at his back. I refuse to notice how sharp his suit jacket fits, how it cuts right above his arse, how those dark slacks tempt me far more than they should. My mouth waters, and I want to scream.
I wrench my gaze away, clinging to composure long enough to respond. “Does that include you?”
His head swivels around. Those piercing silver eyes hone in on me, sending the most wicked shiver down my spine. I swear my body stumbles back from the force. “I’m not no one, cupcake. The rules don’t apply to me. They never have.”
The impact of his words brings me back to reality, like a splash of cold water. “Fuck you.”
The corners of his mouth turn upward, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “That’s a given. If you’re not careful, cupcake, it’ll be sooner than we’re both ready for.”
I don’t know what the hell gets into me. It could be that confident arrogant arseholes trigger something inside me. Flipping a switch that awakes the fighter, the woman who refuses to let them win. Perhaps that explains why I snatch up the vase and chuck it at his head.
I miss, of course.
The glass shatters at his feet, drenching his shoes and the prick’s feet next to him. While he stares down at the mess, unsatisfied-me tries again, going for round two. Reaching for the glass of water I’ve been nursing, I upend it over his head—ice included.
He swears under his breath, water running down his sexy frame.
I stomp my foot, wishing he would just leave.
Well, I get my wish. Or I sort of get my wish.
He shakes his head like a wet dog, wipes his face off with his larger-than-life hands, and then stalks toward me. “You’ll pay for that.”
Panic hits me. My hands shoot up. “Don’t you dare.”
Heat slams into me as he gets close. Too close.
I brace myself—the last time a man made me pay I wore the bruises for weeks.
My head turns, arms fly up to shield my face.
I cry out in shock as the ground vanishes.
I’m upside down and over his shoulders, shrieking as he storms down the hall toward the private wing.
“Put me down,” I order, pounding my fist into his back. “Put me down now!”
A loud smack echoes off the walls as heat builds on my arse where he spanked me. “Settle down or I’ll do that again.”
Two can play this game.
I swing my arm down hard, striking his left butt cheek. It’s solid, unmovable, like a damn rock. No reaction—except his steps speed up.
“Put me down.”
“In due time. If I put you down now, we’ll be giving them a show, and I don’t share with an audience.
” His grip tightens as his hand slides up my right thigh, fingers digging in.
A low growl vibrates from his chest. “Calm down. I’m one breath away from slamming you against the wall and fucking you so hard you won’t be able to walk. ”
A searing heat builds in my core, radiating outwards and melting my insides like candle wax. I squirm, trying to stop it, and force his hand to move. It moves all right, but not in the direction I’d hoped. It slides higher, allowing his thumb to brush against the lace of my knickers.
That does us both in.
He shoves open the first door he comes to. Has me pressed against it from the other side within seconds. His mouth crashes into mine, and the kiss is wild. Teeth clank. Our tongues wrestle for control.
I fist the fabric of his shirt, my knuckles white, yanking him down, curling one leg around his thigh. His cock grinds against me, thick and unyielding, and I moan into his mouth. One perfectly timed grind of my hips, and I’ll lose it.
It’s like he’s inside my head and hears my unspoken pleas. He presses the rigid length harder into my core, drawing a desperate gasp from me. My head falls back. “Oh my god.”
Nipping my exposed neck, he digs his fingers into my hips and drags me down his hard cock. “Fuck. Your pussy is begging for it.”
“Yes.” There is no need to deny it. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”
Why do men always stop when you say those words?
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Just once, I wish a man would do as he’s told instead of thinking he has to be the one in charge.
Grabbing my face, he forces me to look at him. “I’m not fucking you in some closet, cupcake. But I will gladly help you get off at least once before we blow this joint so we can do just that.”
His kiss is brutal, cock grinding into me, and then—out of nowhere—he’s on his knees. I’m about to protest. Bring my knee to his face for lying. But he’s faster. Dress up. Knickers down.
“I’d love nothing more than to rip these off you, but the thought of you walking around other men without something covering your sweet pussy is more than I can take.
So, for now, I’m getting them out of the way.
” He drags them past one ankle, leaves the rest hanging off the other, then hooks my free leg over his shoulder.
His grin says it all—cocky bastard knows exactly what he’s doing.
“What…” I bang my head against the door, making a loud thud. “Fuck. That feels amazing. Who knew that was… oh god, don’t stop.”
Again, he does, and this time I grab his hair, amusing him. “Hold on. I assure you, you won’t be disappointed. Are you saying no man has had the pleasure of tasting your sweet frosting?”
Closing my eyes, embarrassed, I shake my head.
“Well, then. Let me show you what you’ve been missing.” Darius blows on my weeping center and dives in.
I’m not exaggerating. He buries his head between my thighs and eats me out like I’m the last meal he will ever have.
He sucks on my clit, tugs it between his teeth, and then flicks it with his tongue.
My legs give out, and I’m practically sitting on him while he does his best to kill me.
As he sinks his fingers deep, I feel my nails digging into his scalp.
I’m riding his face like I’ve seen a few of my friends ride the mechanical bull at the bar. I refuse to let him buck me off this ride until I’ve come all over his face and he’s drained me completely.
I must have blacked out, because I don’t remember him slipping my knickers back on or fixing my dress. Although he seems to have, because he’s now standing in front of me with his arms wrapped around my hips, holding me up.
There’s a sparkle in his eyes. “Now that we’ve settled that, let’s get you out of here.”
“I can’t just leave.” I’m not sure it matters. Even if I could go back out there and work, I don’t want to.
He kisses me, softer this time. “I’ll handle Jack.”
“Who’s Jack?” I mumble against his lips that taste like me. “You should probably wash your face. My apologies, I think I made a mess.”
Grinning like a boy who just ate the last of the ice cream and proud of it, he shrugs one shoulder. “I love tasting you on me.”
I close my eyes in horror at the fact he’s not lying.
God, why is that so sexy?
“Jack owns the place. He owes me a huge favor. I’ll handle him.”
Darius grabs my hand and off we go. Leaving through the backdoor instead of the front, a black Audi is parked and waiting. He guides me inside, and I have to wonder what the hell I’m doing.