23. LYRA
LYRA
T he curfew can kiss my ass.
Black Velvet is dead. Not dead dead. Not my apartment after Maddox got his hands on it dead. But it might as well be.
The curfew officially kicks in at ten, which means nobody wants to start a night they can’t finish. The usual crowd has vanished. The dance floor is basically empty. The booths sit abandoned. And even the music sounds depressing. We haven’t been this quiet since . . . well, ever.
I wipe down the bar for what feels like the hundredth time and gaze at the handful of customers lingering over drinks.
This is ridiculous. We didn’t even get to perform “Toxic” tonight.
Didn’t even get to give anybody the famous Velvet Slap.
And this is supposed to go on for a whole month.
The city might as well burn the bar to the ground.
At least then people would have a good reason not to enjoy their nights here.
You can’t exactly own a bar and tell people they need to be tucked safely into bed before the streetlights come on.
It’s heartbreaking. Even the restaurants across the road have been closing up shop early.
They don’t usually stay open as late as I do, especially on Friday and Saturday nights, but locking up this early is laughable.
Across the bar, Hunter and Maddox sit on stools nursing drinks while watching me work. Or rather, Hunter watches me work. Maddox watches me like I’m a nature documentary, and it’s more than unsettling.
I shut off the neon lights that line the bar and glare at Maddox. “What?” I ask, more than aware that I’m hitting him with all the attitude my body is capable of, but that seems to be a new personality trait that has stuck around since the conclusion of the meeting a few days ago.
Maddox grins, and it makes me want to strangle him. “Nothing.”
God, I hate him. And by hate him, I think I actually mean love him.
Like so badly it’s ruining my life. Shit, it might not just be him I’m falling for.
It might be both of them, and surely that’s not fair to either of them.
Am I supposed to choose at some point? Or is there some magical land where they will just be happy living as we are, letting me love them both?
My shoulders slump, and I fight the smile that tears across my lips. “Liar.”
Maddox laughs and gets up from the stool, striding over to where I stand before leaning across the bar and grabbing me by the base of my throat.
He pulls me in, those wicked bedroom eyes seeming to ravage me as he holds me hostage in his stare.
“Have I ever told you how fucking sexy you are when you’re angry? ”
Butterflies immediately swarm through my stomach, raining hell over my nervous system, and then just like that, I don’t mind the idea of every last person in this building suddenly walking out.
At least that way I’ll be able to fuck him over my bar.
And judging by the way Hunter is watching us, maybe I could take them both. Gotta love a two for one deal.
I suppose this curfew might have a few perks after all.
The internal reminder of the curfew has my mood crashing back down, and I pull back from Maddox as my shoulders slump. “Don’t try and make me swoon,” I tell him, tossing the bar rag at his chest. “I’m trying to wallow in my self-pity.”
He hits me with those bedroom eyes again. “We can’t have that now, can we?” he murmurs, bracing his elbows on the bar and leaning in. “I’m sure there’s something we can do that will help you forget all about that wallowing and self-pity.”
I lean in toward him, bracing my hands on the bar as I hold that wicked stare. “This is very counterproductive,” I tell him. “How am I supposed to sulk while you keep looking at me like you’re about to eat my pussy right here on the bar?”
Those wicked eyes sparkle. “That what you want, Savage? My tongue rolling over that pretty little clit?”
My knees tremble beneath the bar. I’ve never wanted anything more. “Oh, I don’t know if you’ve got what it takes to get me there with just your tongue.”
Maddox laughs, that delicious smirk stretching across his lips, and damn it, there’s no denying it now. I really am in love with this man. “Oh, baby. You don’t have to worry about that,” he vows.
I climb up onto the bar, settling myself right in front of him, and he takes my thighs in his big hands. “Is that so?” I murmur as he steps right into me, pushing between my spread legs while I’m more than aware of the few lingering customers.
The wildness of this man thrills me like never before, and as he leans into me, his lips brushing along the curve of my neck, that thrill turns into something wilder, something animalistic.
His hands creep higher on my thighs, his thumbs brushing inward and sending my heart rate soaring. “You want me to take you right here?”
A subtle groan slips from my lips, and I close my eyes as his tongue works higher up my neck, right to the sensitive spot beneath my ear. When an almost inaudible beep sounds from Hunter’s phone on the bar beside me, all three of us pause.
Our stares collide with the notification showing on the phone, and just like that, the atmosphere shifts.
Gone is my wild, bad boy who was about to devour me on the bar. He’s all business now. As for Hunter, well, he’s always all business. Except for when he’s coming, but even then, there’s a controlled way in which he falls apart inside me.
The boys share a subtle glance, and if I weren’t so in tune with both of them, I might have missed it.
“Fuck,” Maddox grunts, his gaze shifting back to me, regret shining in those hazel green eyes. “Rain check? Promise, we’ll only be gone for a few hours at most.”
I groan and shove him away as the girl equivalent of blue balls sets in hard and fast. “Oh sure,” I say, pushing off the edge of the bar and dropping to my feet. “Leave me all hot and bothered. I’m sure I can find some other sorry sucker around here who’ll help me scratch this itch.”
Hunter grins and pushes off the bar stool before grabbing his phone and jacket.
“Ahh, too bad there’s a city-wide curfew.
All of these sorry suckers are about to leave.
You’re just gonna have to rely on all those vibrators in your bedside—oh wait.
They were destroyed in the explosion. I guess you’re on your own. ”
I give him a hard stare. “I hate you so much.”
“Mm-hmm. Whatever you say, princess.” He winks, and I hate how everything clenches inside of me. When did I actually stop hating him? And when the hell did his raw attention become something I craved with every bone in my body?
I sigh and lean back against the bar, watching the last of my bartenders start closing up for the night and reminding the customers that they need to get home before ten.
Maddox steps into me. “Sorry, Savage. I’ll see you later tonight.” He drops a kiss on my temple, but my gaze remains locked on Hunter.
“What’s the job?”
Hunter’s brow arches for just a moment before he glances back at me, a strange curiosity in his stare. “Youngest son of a wealthy family. Been quietly draining money from the family accounts to finance a competing business venture.”
“Competing?”
Hunter scoffs. “Let’s just say his family doesn’t appreciate discovering they’ve accidentally funded their biggest rival.”
My brows fly up. “Oh shit.”
“Uh-huh. And there’s nothing a billionaire won’t do to protect his money, even if it means eliminating his own son.”
“Wow, okay. Well, I guess . . . have fun?”
Maddox grins. “Oh, I will.”
I stare at him, and then at Hunter before shaking my head. “That’s so fucked up.”
Hunter just sighs. “Occupational hazard.”
And with that, the boys stride out the main entrance of Black Velvet, leaving me more alone than I’ve ever been.
The bar is just about dead now. The few customers who were getting in their last sip of beer before curfew are clearing out, and now, there’s a strange silence that makes my spine tingle.
I don’t like it, but I find myself grinning anyway.
It’s showtime, baby.
My sudden case of girly blue balls vanishes faster than it came on, because nothing gets me hotter than what I’m about to do.
I finish locking up Black Velvet and shut off all the lights so that nobody from the outside can see that I’m still here, though I don’t know who could possibly be out there with this stupid curfew.
With everything under control, I head back to my office. My real office, not the one where I take meetings and talk shit with the girls.
No, this space is just for me.
It’s hidden well behind the panel that sits at the back of my filing cabinet, the one nobody uses or even knows about. I shift it out of the way and after moving the paneling, I step into the small private room, switching on the light as I move deeper inside.
The second I close the office door behind me, the rest of the world fades away.
This room is mine. Not the version of me that smiles for customers or manages staff.
Just me. The walls are painted matte black, the lighting low and warm, and every surface is cluttered with pieces of my life—camera lenses, film canisters, half-filled notebooks, and stacks of photographs waiting to be sorted.
A worn leather couch sits beneath a collection of framed black-and-white photographs I’ve taken over the years. City streets. Storm clouds. Empty alleyways. Beautiful things most people walk straight past without noticing, but I do. I notice everything.
The whole room smells faintly of vanilla and old paper, and for the first time all day, I feel myself relax. Only that’s not why I’m here.
Moving across the small space, I pull open the fully stocked closet and my gaze immediately sails over the vast variety of black clothing, and I find myself reaching for a pair of ripped black jeans, boots, and a corseted crop.