Chapter Nineteen
Got It Bad
Juliet
W AKING UP THE next morning, I knew I was alone because Maximo wasn’t pressed to my back like he’d been the whole night. I rolled and stretched. And then I smiled at the dull ache between my thighs.
I had sex.
With Maximo.
And it was better than my fantasies, which is saying something.
I can’t wait to do it again.
Climbing from the bed, I winced as the ache grew.
Okay, I can’t wait to take some Motrin and then do it again.
Padding across the room, I used the bathroom and was washing my hands when I looked up.
What the hell?
I leaned forward to inspect the love bites in the mirror. Bites, plural . Two more marked my neck and a dark hickey was on my breast.
This is ridiculous and immature and possessive and… Who am I kidding?
I like it as much as he does.
I finished washing up before brushing my teeth. I didn’t want to pull my dress back on, so I raided his armoire and threw on a pair of joggers and a tee.
Just like old times.
Opening the door, I didn’t bother with my stealth routine since everyone already knew. I headed for my sewing room but slowed when I saw Maximo’s office door was open. Unfortunately, he was on the phone, so I continued across the hall.
Sitting at my desk, I felt inspired. I grabbed a pad of paper and colored pencils and closed my eyes, visualizing what I wanted.
And then I sketched it. Badly.
But it would do.
I was sorting through my fabric when the door opened.
Maximo paused in the doorway. A warm, small smile pulled at his mouth as he checked out what I was wearing. Walking over, he hauled me to him and kissed me so hard, it was a wonder our lips didn’t fuse together. He pulled away but kept his face close as he studied mine. “You good?”
“Very.”
“Sore?”
“Yeah.” I hoped my meaning came across when I added, “But not too sore.”
His groan showed he got what I was saying. I thought I’d get his mouth back, but instead he gave me a stern expression. “If I’m working from home, I expect you to come kiss me when you wake up.”
“You were on the phone,” I said.
“I don’t give a damn. You can always interrupt me. I would’ve welcomed it during that call.”
Noticing the lines on his forehead and the way his jaw clenched, I asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Just the usual bullshit. Which is why I could’ve used your sweet mouth as a distraction.”
“If you want to go back and pretend to be on a call, we can have a do-over.”
He looked genuinely disappointed when he shook his head. “I was waiting for you to wake up so I could check on you, but I’ve got to run for a meeting at Sunrise.”
“Is that one of your casinos?” I was excited to get that tidbit of info.
He lifted his chin. “Sunrise, Moonlight, Star, and Nebula.”
My jaw dropped to the floor. “I didn’t realize those were yours. I’ve never been, but they’re always on the lists of the top places to stay off-Strip.”
He smirked. “Glad my PR team earns their salaries.”
Maximo owns four hugely popular resorts and I own…
Nothing.
Yeah, that’s not an imbalance at all.
Maximo cupped the sides of my head in the possessive hold. “I’m sending someone up with lunch.”
“Lunch?”
“It’s almost noon.”
“I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“You were wiped. You didn’t even twitch when I kissed you before getting up this morning.” His smile was cocky and wicked and packed with male satisfaction.
He kissed me before getting out of bed.
A bed we shared.
And now he hung around so he could make sure I’m okay.
His eyes narrowed. “You sure you’re good?”
I was better than good.
I was happy .
“I’m sure, Daddy,” I said instantly.
When we’d first talked, I’d figured the name was only for him and it wouldn’t do much for me.
I’d been wrong.
Calling him Daddy did a lot for me.
The more I said it, the more I liked it. I was still a little flustered and a lot awkward, but I’d get more comfortable.
Especially if saying it meant I got to see the look of fiery lust and warm affection he was giving me.
He kissed me again before heading for the door. Stopping when he reached it, he looked over his shoulder. “Make sure you eat, Juliet. And keep this door open from now on.”
Before I could ask why, he was gone.
I shrugged and went back to finding fabric.
A few minutes later, Marco came in carrying a full tray service. There was a ham sandwich, a small salad, a bowl of fruit, and two Diet Cokes.
Two.
Seems it’s my lucky day for various reasons.
“Thanks,” I said, cracking right into one of those bad boys.
I watched Marco’s face carefully, searching for any sign he was judging or disgusted or any of the other bad things I worried people would feel.
He looked stoic and bored—business as usual.
“Shout if you need anything.” When he walked from the room, he started closing the door behind him before stopping and opening it fully.
Apparently, Maximo shared his new door policy.
Running to my room, I grabbed my iPad and headphones before returning to my sandwich. As I dug in, I brought up Google and did a search.
Nebula Vegas NV
Unsurprisingly, the screen loaded to tell me to contact the network admin. I was pretty sure Cole handled all the tech in the house, and I wasn’t asking him to help me snoop on his boss.
Exiting out of the browser, I put on music as I finished eating. Once I was done, I laid out the fabric I’d chosen and started measuring it. It took much longer than usual because I kept glancing at the open door.
There was no one there, but I worried someone would walk by just as I was making some huge mistake. Or as I was dancing and lip-syncing—something I did often.
With a sigh, I went and closed the door.
He’s not even home.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Maximo
Walking through the isolated building, my anticipation grew with each step I took.
Ordinarily when someone crossed me, I brought them to the basement of Moonlight. But Jack Murphy hadn’t crossed me.
He’d hurt Juliet.
Which meant I didn’t need a secure room with a private exit to a waiting vehicle. I needed the industrial tools, cleaning system, and disposal unit of a former meat-processing plant.
It was going to get messy.
And I couldn’t fucking wait.
Opening another door slowly so it would creak and groan, I stepped in and let the slam echo around the room. Ash sat silently in a chair, but my gaze went to where Jack Murphy hung from a meat hook, his pale torso bare.
“Who’s there?” His words were slurred with the residual effects of Ash’s drugs. He moved his head back and forth as if he could see past the blindfold.
Lifting my chin at Ash, I leaned against the wall and pulled out my phone. I scrolled through emails and my calendar, patient to wait until the drugs were out of Murphy’s system. Otherwise, they’d diminish the pain. He didn’t deserve that.
Plus, anticipation was half the fun.
Every time Murphy sank back into a stupor, Ash or I would make a noise to set him off again. It was another hour before his voice was normal, no hint of impairment. Completely alert, his movements grew frantic as he worked to escape the bindings.
It wouldn’t happen—Ash was an expert.
It also wouldn’t happen because he would be in too much pain.
“Jack Murphy,” I said, pocketing my phone. “Lowlife, scumbag-for-hire, crony.” I glanced at Ash. “Am I missing anything?”
“Gemini,” he added. “Oh, and woman beater—professionally and personally.”
“What the fuck is this, some jacked version of This Is Your Life ?” Murphy croaked. “Untie me or else—”
I tugged off his blindfold and whatever blustered threat he was about to spew died abruptly when he saw me. “Fuck.”
In the face of his panic, my lips tipped but I didn’t speak.
The longer the silence stretched, thickening the tension in the room, the more agitated Murphy became. “Why the hell am I here?”
“Do you like beating women, Murphy?”
“I don’t know what—”
“Are you too much of a pussy to take on men so you go after their daughters?”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
Circling his hanging body, I slid on gloves and an apron before grabbing a small knife from the set that hung on the wall. There were bigger ones—ones that would do the job quicker.
But I wanted to take my time.
I ran the blade down his side, hard enough for him to feel its sharpness, but not enough to puncture skin. “Does it get you and your tiny prick off to stab them because you can’t get inside them any other way?”
“We’ve got no beef with you, Black,” he gritted out, his body tense and his breathing shallow so the blade wouldn’t cut.
Keeping it pressed tight, I rounded him so I could see his face. His jaw was tight, fury warring with fear.
“But I’ve got a lot of fucking beef with you,” I said, my tone cold and impassive. My expression was blank as I stabbed him, just above his hip.
Right where he’d stabbed Juliet.
“Fucking shit! What the hell? Fuck!”
“Does it feel like I’m letting you off easy?”
“What’re you talking about?” His body shook as he fought to stay still so he didn’t make the pain worse.
He didn’t have to worry, I’d take care of that for him.
Sliding the knife free, I pressed the tip to the same spot above his other hip. “Shamus McMillon.”
He shook his head rapidly, confusion tightening his features. “We cut ties with Shamus over a year ago. Before he took off. We’ve got no clue where he is. If he owes you money, try Carmichael—they were tight.”
“But he owed you?”
“The Sullivans. But he squared up his last debt a couple weeks before he took off.”
I stabbed hard enough to puncture the skin before slowing down so the blade inched in.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, his eyes dazed at the pain.
“Shamus owed. Shamus . Yet you stuck your knife in his daughter.” I buried mine to the hilt. “You couldn’t take an old man so you went after a teenager?”
“What’s she have to do with you?” he asked before he gave a weak smile. “You nailing the frigid bitch? I’m sure that uptight, barely legal cunt is worth a lot, but is it worth going against the Sullivans?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”