Chapter 11
Emelia
I shut off the engine of my bike and the silence of the parking deck is almost deafening. My ears are still ringing from the roar of the bike as I pull my helmet off and allow my hair to tumble down around my shoulders. I opted to tuck it up under my helmet completely because trying to detangle a wig is on my list of top ten things I absolutely hate. Plus, I really love the deep crimson color of this particular one. It’s one of my favorites and I don’t wear it enough.
The heels of my boots echo within the concrete walls as I stalk up to the single black, metal door with yellow and blue spray paint chipping from the surface. “Fucking hood rats,” I mutter and yank the door open with a loud metallic screech. My eyes blink rapidly at the sudden bright light, and I press the heels of my hands into my sockets, trying not to rub them aggressively.
“Well, well. Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence.” Tobias claps his hands once and I glower over at him. “Easy there, killer.” He holds up his hands placatingly. “I just want to make sure you’re fine.”
“I’ll be fine once I get these fucking contacts out of my eyes,” I mutter and blink several more times, trying to get them to reset on my corneas.
“Don’t bother,” Hector says grimly. His mouth is set in a firm line and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. I brush past both men with a dismissive wave of my hand, but before I can get through the door Hector’s voice brings me to a halt. “Cecelia called.”
“And what does that lecherous snake want?” I ask through clenched teeth and turn to face them.
“She has been having some trouble with a few men in one of her gambling dens,” Tobias says slowly and tugs at his cufflinks.
I scoff. “I have my own empire to run and my own men to see to. I don’t have time to handle someone else’s trash employees. She needs to grow a spine and handle them herself. If she didn’t want to break a nail, she should have never agreed to be the head of those dens. I swear!” I take a deep breath before continuing my one-sided rant under my breath. “You help someone out with a favor one time and they think that they can just call you night or day to drop everything to be at their beck and call.”
Hector clears his throat patiently as I trail off. “Are you finished yet?” he asks with a slight upward turn of his lips.
“You’d better wipe that look off your face before I knock it off for you,” I mutter venomously.
“Emelia,” Tobias says, his voice measured. His calmness and patience could rival that of a monk some days. I level my glare at him but make no further comment. “These are not employees.”
“Why the fuck do I care either way?” I bellow and throw my hands up in the air. At this rate I’d rather hop back on my bike and drive into traffic. With my eyes closed.
“We think that you would in this particular circumstance,” Hector says carefully and holds up his hands, palms out. Mimicking the way Tobias just approached me.
“Their identities are unknown,” Tobias states nonchalantly and inspects his pristine fingernails. “They were all wearing expensive suits and white masks with card suits on them. Does that sound familiar?” Of course, I had told Tobias everything that had happened in the alley, including the masked men that are very quickly becoming my obsession.
I have to actively fight to keep my jaw from falling open, but I do lose the battle with the twinkle in my eyes. “Where? When?” I want nothing more than to find them and delve into the mysteries that are these three men. What do they look like? Do they have tattoos? What color are their eyes? Are they missing eyes? Do they have scars? My mind is buzzing with so many questions that I completely tune out the men in front of me.
“Are you still with us?” Tobias asks and his voice sounds far away and muffled. I blink my eyes back into focus and narrow them at his grinning face. “There you are. Welcome back.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter and fold my arms across my chest like a petulant child.
“I said this most recent incident was about two months ago, but the den is steadily losing revenue and no one can find where they are hemorrhaging the cash from.” Tobias unbuttons his sleek black suit jacket and sits down on the black sofa along the back wall. He gracefully folds his right ankle over his left knee and spreads his arms out along the back of the couch.
Hector leans one shoulder against the door frame that I entered from, effectively blocking the door from me. It’s not like I am planning on running out there at this very minute to start a manhunt. At least not that he knows of. “She wants you to come by and see if you can find anything suspicious with how the tables are run.” Hector’s voice is steely as he meets Tobias’s gaze. “Without an escort.”
I knew that was why Hector is so ruffled. He always hates the idea of putting me anywhere near a potential attack. My lips turn up into a playful smirk. “I’ll make an appearance tonight. Unannounced,” I add and head off toward the stairwell. “Don’t wait up, darlings!” I call over my shoulder and take the stairs two at a time with a wide grin stretching across my face. I have a brilliantly terrible idea and my therapist would most definitely not be proud of me for choosing this outlet. I unlock my phone and type a quick invitation to my cover story for the night.
At eight-thirty I’m sitting at a poker table in a dimly lit room with my black heels tucked daintily underneath my chair and a glass of white wine in my right hand. My eyes follow the movements of the cards as the dealer shuffles the deck once more before tossing them in quick succession onto the table in front of the five players occupying the table.
My fingers stretch across the slick backs of the cards already in my hand, itching to throw down the hand and claim the chips currently in the pot. I know what the other three are holding. I know what the dealer is about to lay down. My eyes flick to the stack of cards next to the dealer’s black-gloved hand and then back up to his face. His dark eyes narrow just a fraction, and his lips press into a firm line. I swirl my wine in the glass before taking a small sip and holding his gaze with a fire of my own, daring him to push.
He knows what I’m doing, and he knows what the protocol for these things are, but he doesn’t move a muscle. His eyes track my fingers and I smile deviously at him. The bouncers make their way around the tables in slow methodical circles, scanning the crowds for any troublemakers. The dealer arches an eyebrow at me, daring me to make the first move. I nod my head to him, and he smirks, confirming the unspoken deal. I won’t make trouble for him here tonight, and he won’t cause any trouble for me.
Unfortunately for him, trouble tends to follow me wherever I go.
He fingers the deck before burning the top card and flipping over the turn card. There are now four cards face up on the tabletop. “Gentlemen,” he says with a flourish of his hand. “Milady.” He winks at my grimace at the nickname. “Bets?” There’s a shuffle of cards and a few low curses murmured among the group, but I keep my mouth shut. My eyes skate over the dealer’s clean-shaven face, taking in the dark eyeliner around his eyes and a fringe of bleach blond hair peeking out from under a top hat. I drop two chips into the pile and raise my glass to my smirking lips. His eyebrow quirks but he still makes no move to out me and I’m beginning to enjoy this game of cat and mouse that we have settled into.
The games continue and there is a steady stream of patrons coming and going from the various tables and slots along the back wall. I keep my head on a swivel and nurse my third glass of white wine, my eyes always searching the room. My therapist has thrown words at me like “paranoia” and “schizophrenia”, but I like to think of myself as observant and prepared for anything. After all, you never know when a hurricane might blow over the horizon.
As my eyes narrow in on the man that just emerged through the front entrance, I know that my storm has just blown in, and it looks like it’s shaping up to be a category five. His blue eyes dart back and forth through the crowded room before finally settling on me and his lips turn up into a playful smirk. I dip my head in acknowledgment as he makes his way to the chair I’m occupying at the blackjack table.
“ECP,” he greets me quietly and moves his hand to adjust the cufflink of his left arm. He towers over me, and I can’t help but notice the confidence that is emanating off him. He’s more in his element here than in the coffee shop earlier today.
“Hello, Silas,” I respond casually and take a heavy sip of my wine. “Care to join in on the fun?” My eyes shift from his expensive tailored burgundy suit to his blue eyes and then over to the dealer shuffling a new deck of cards.
“Absolutely.” He unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat beside me with the grace of someone who knows their way around a casino table. Silas produces a stack of chips and places them on the soft tabletop before turning his head to meet my eyes. “It seems like I need to catch up,” he says with a nod to my growing pile of chips.
I shrug but make no comment, eyes already focused on the cards as the dealer tosses them out and begins a new game. “Just have luck on my side tonight,” I mutter with a sly smile and tilt my chin up defiantly at the dealer as he looks from me to Silas.
Silas cuts his eyes to me and the corner of his mouth twitches as though he is fighting a grin. “I’m sure that’s it. Let’s see if lady luck still sides with you now that I’m here. I must admit.” He pauses and takes stock of his hand. “I’m usually her favorite.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” I mutter with an eye roll and toss a chip into the pot. We continue our quiet banter for a while. I win a few games and he comes out on top a few more, but we both try to keep it conspicuous. It is obvious that he knows exactly what I am doing because he is doing the exact same thing.
I brush my burgundy hair over my shoulder and tilt my glass back, finishing off my third glass. A small drop of wine slides down the corner of my mouth in my haste, but before I can catch it, Silas lifts his hand and brushes his thumb along my bottom lip, catching the liquid before it drips onto my dress. Heat flares in my cheeks, and I can feel the blush creeping up my neck at his intimate gesture. As I look away, my eyes catch on the dealer, who is scowling at us with narrowed eyes. Well fuck. This is not going to go well.
I turn back to Silas, who is also blushing and looking everywhere but my face. “I do believe it’s time to go,” I say and lean forward to grab his attention. He looks back at me and opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it again. His confidence from earlier is gone, and now I can see the shy man that I met in the coffee shop.
A shudder ripples through me as a firm finger presses into the middle of my back and drags up my spine. Double fuck. Busted. Silas stands and turns to face the bouncer behind us with a glare. I slowly get to my feet with my hands up, palms out.
“You need to go. Your games are over. Get out.” The bouncer’s deep timbre matches his macho appearance and I know that I don’t want to pick a fight here tonight.
“Of course,” Silas says smoothly and places his hand on my back. “I’ll meet you at the front,” he leans in to whisper in my ear before disappearing towards the restrooms.
I look back at the dealer and find him smirking at me with his arms folded across his chest. His smugness is almost enough to light the fire of my rage, but I force the emotion down and turn to collect my clutch. It isn’t until I hear his voice that I snap. A single statement hissed under his breath. “You’ll be counting your days soon, bitch, instead of just counting cards.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My hands move without my permission and before I can even rationalize what I’m doing, I lean across the table and land a sucker punch right to his nose. I feel the cartilage give and warm liquid runs down my arm. There is a flurry of movement, and shouts ring out across the room as people scatter and bouncers close in. “Toodles!” I call and push myself off the table and under the arms of a security detail behind me. I weave through the commotion of people and disappear down the dark hallway towards the back door.
A door to my right opens and an arm clad in dark burgundy catches my wrist and pulls me into a small bathroom. My back crashes against the wall as Silas locks the door and barricades me in, his arms on either side of my head and his hard muscles against my chest. “The fuck happened?” he hisses and looks down at my bloody knuckles.
“I had a disagreement with the dealer,” I say nonchalantly, my British accent slipping slightly as rage and adrenaline still course through my veins. He sighs but says nothing, just listening to the chaos on the other side of the door. “Thanks for the assist.” I wiggle my hips to adjust my dress and he drops his left hand to my right hip, stilling me.
His eyes close, and he lets out a sharp hiss. “Don’t,” he whispers, his voice jagged. My face breaks out into a wide grin as I press my body more firmly against his, feeling his erection against my stomach. “Fuck,” he breathes out a heavy sigh and his eyes close as I grind against him again.
“I owe you,” I state and without hesitation, I stand up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. He tenses for a moment before the hand on my hip tightens and he pulls me impossibly closer. I can’t be sure if it’s the adrenaline, my unhealthy habit of delving into things that aren’t good for me, or just the electric atmosphere around us, but his kiss lights me on fire and I have never felt anything like it.
His lips are soft and yielding to mine as our mouths find a rhythm. My tongue darts out and he opens for me immediately with a muffled groan. I smile into the kiss and twist my hands through his dark hair, tugging at the roots and earning another moan from him. Silas pulls away first and stares down at me with an expression of uncertainty.
For a moment I’m caught in his stare, unable to move and feeling like I’m drowning but also taking my first breath at the same time. What an odd feeling bouncing around my insides. I’m not sure if I hate it or like it. I blink up at him once before dropping to my knees, careful not to hit the sink or toilet on my way down.
“No,” he says firmly and reaches for my arms to pull me back to my feet, but I shrug him off. “E,” he sighs. “I don’t… I can’t… Not here…” His confidence waivers. He’s fighting his moral compass, that much is clear, but it appears that lust is winning out as his fingers tighten on my biceps. I can see the waging war behind his eyes.
My fingers deftly undo his belt and slide his pants and boxers down to his mid-thigh, allowing his cock to bob free. My grin only widens further when he hisses through his clenched teeth as I take him in my hand. “Let me do this,” I whisper and trace my tongue along the underside of his shaft, from base to tip. His hips jerk forward in response. “That’s sexy,” I murmur and repeat the motion.
Silas tips his head back and lets out another low groan, he moves one of his hands to the back of my head, fingers spread through my hair. “Fuck.”
I take him fully into my mouth and hollow my cheeks, applying a small amount of suction as I move my head forward and back. His hand on my head flexes and I feel his other hand come to rest on the other side of my face. My tongue flicks across his head and dips into the slit before pulling him back into my mouth.
With his hands cradling my face, he urges me to pick up the pace, pushing and pulling gently. His hips jerk forward every few seconds as I apply hard suction. My hands wrap around his bare thighs and my nails dig into his skin. Tears prick my eyes as he continues to urge me to a more brutal pace, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is my nirvana. I take the pleasure and the pain and marry them together for my own slice of paradise.
“Fuck. Just like that.” Silas lets out a low groan and his hips start jerking more erratically. He looks down at me and his blue eyes are molten as he watches his cock disappear between my lips. There’s a shift in his demeanor, a flash of something dark in his eyes and his lips quirk up. “I’m going to come in your gorgeous mouth, and you’re going to take every bit of it.” His voice is husky and rough, like he’d been asleep for several hours.
My pussy clenches at his deep timbre and the words only spur me on. I take him deeper, relaxing my throat and sucking hard. His sleek confidence is back, and I am one hundred percent here for this version of Silas. My lips turn up into a wicked smirk around his cock.
“Do you understand me?” His eyes narrow at my upturned lips. He punches his hips forward and I gag as he hits the back of my throat unexpectedly. “Every. Last. Drop.” He enunciates each word with a shallow thrust. I nod my head and close my eyes as more tears stream down my cheeks, ruining my black mascara.
My fingers dig into the backs of his thighs, and I pull off him with a pop. A thin stream of saliva connecting my lips to the head of his cock. “Give it to me then.” I rake my teeth along his hard flesh before dipping my head and biting the sensitive skin where his thigh meets his groin.
He jerks hard and moves to tangle his fingers in my hair, but I stop him by lacing my fingers through his. Nothing would be worse than losing a wig mid-blowjob. His fingers tighten around mine and he moans as I take him deep into my throat once more. My stomach clenches and wetness pools at my core as I listen to him fall apart above me. There’s just something about the sound of a man’s deep moan that nearly sends me into a tizzy every damn time.
Silas thrusts his hips hard, his cock sliding punishingly between my lips. Once. Twice. He stills on the third and I feel him tense, his release sliding down the back of my throat in heavy spurts. I pull back when I stop feeling him throb against my tongue and sit back on my heels.
His blue eyes meet mine and I note a small blush coloring his cheeks. Without breaking eye contact I swallow everything he left in my mouth and slowly lick my lips, cleaning off the drops that leaked out. “There. Now I’ve paid my debt.” I stand, adjust my dress, and place my palm on his chest. I can still feel the rapid beat of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest as he takes deep breaths to steady himself.
“Fucking Hell,” he curses and tucks his cock back into his pants. “We should go.” I nod in agreement, and we slip out of the bathroom and into the dark hallway. Most of the chaos has subsided at this point, but there are more security details floating around. I take his hand and tug him through the back door and into the back lot where the employees park.
“Thanks for a good time. Sorry about all that.” I gesture behind us as we walk to where I tucked my bike beside the ugly green dumpster.
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Silas admits and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks for the invite. Maybe next time, though, we could just do dinner or a movie.” His smile is shy but sincere. The confident Silas is gone again, leaving the soft Silas in his wake.
“Are you asking me out, Silas?” I turn on him with my helmet tucked under my arm and my hip cocked to the side.
“That’s yours?” he asks instead of answering, eyeing my bike with interest.
“It is. My personal death machine. Not what you expected?”
“Not at all.” His smile widens, his white teeth flashing in the pale moonlight. “Mine’s over there.” He gestures to a bike parked across the lot. “I guess this means I can’t convince you to backpack?”
“Not a chance!” I laugh and shake out my hair before tying it back in a loose ponytail. “So… next time?”
Silas turns back to face me and takes a step forward, invading my space. His hands settle on my hips, and he pulls me flush against him. “Next time,” he whispers, and his lips meet mine in a slow kiss, no doubt tasting himself on my tongue. It isn’t full of the fire and lust from earlier, but it is still heavy and strong. I wrap my arms around his neck, my helmet thumping him in the back, and moan into the kiss before I can stop myself. Damn. I’m still so worked up that I could probably get off with a single touch at this point.
His hands tighten and his tongue brushes against mine in a battle for dominance, but mine wins out in the end. I pull back, breathless, and we rest our foreheads together. “Damn,” he sighs.
“Coraline,” I whisper and close my eyes, taking a leap off the edge of the cliff that I have been teetering on for the last few minutes. He blinks down at me in confusion. “The ‘C’ stands for Coraline.” I disengage from his embrace, pull on my helmet, and mount my bike.
“ECP,” he mutters and runs a hand through his already tousled hair. “You’re going to be the death of me.” I hear him say before I crank my engine and peel out of the lot without another glance.
If I’m not careful, he could also very well be the death of me.