Chapter 9
NICK
“Are you seriously out of tequila?” Thomas calls from the liquor storage, his voice bouncing off the custom walnut shelves.
“Do you seriously need tequila to plan a fundraiser?” I shoot back.
I kick my feet up on my marble coffee table and roll my head back to rest on the plush back of my favorite armchair, idly listening to my best friend rummage around in my kitchen.
The overhead lights are off, my expansive living room lit only by the warm glow of a few bare bulb floor lamps since I had planned on a relaxing night to myself before Thomas invited himself over.
Things with Riley are going better than I expected.
We text constantly, even during the workday.
I’ve caught Marcus staring at me curiously when I check my phone under the table during meetings, but he knows better than to pry.
Tonight was supposed to be more of the same, idle chatter and easy flirting, but Riley’s best friend has stolen her attention away from me for the evening.
I suppose I can allow her a night to herself every now and then while I reel her in.
“This swill will have to do,” Thomas announces, wandering into the living room with a bottle of whiskey that cost half a year’s salary and two crystal glasses.
Calls that swill like he doesn’t drink the worst tequila that’s ever graced my tongue.
He’s lucky I put up with him.
“Pour me a double,” I tell him. “I’ll need it to stay sane through your babbling.”
Thomas grins, that trademark wicked curve of his lips that sends all the girls to their knees, sharp blue eyes in stark contrast to his warm olive complexion. He pours us both more alcohol than necessary, but he’s always been a proponent of getting buzzed before talking business.
He slides a glass across the coffee table to me before taking a seat on the tufted leather couch and kicking his feet up to mirror my position.
“What’s got Nicky in such a pissy mood?” he teases, the fine-line tattoos wrapping up his forearms shifting as he takes a sip of his drink.
He hisses at the burn as it goes down, and I shoot him a warning glare.
“Last I checked, you weren’t my mother.”
She’s the only one I let call me that, which Thomas well knows.
“Certainly not,” he says with a scoff. “I prefer Daddy, anyway.”
I curl my lip at him in disdain, rolling my eyes at the crude joke.
Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with this asshole, but he evens me out.
I can’t be all work and no play when I’m keeping the idiot from running his mouth like this in front of people who won’t take kindly to it.
He’s never understood proper decorum, although that’s probably why he runs the most successful dungeon and lifestyle club in Manhattan.
“You wanted my input on the auction?” I ask drily, ignoring the wink he shoots my way.
“Right to business with you,” he says with a put-upon sigh. “I want your wallet more than your input. I do know how to set up a successful event, in case you forgot.”
He really is lucky I find him amusing, or I’d have pulled my funding years ago. The things that childhood friends get away with.
“You already have a check on your desk from me,” I remind him, sipping my own whiskey and enjoying the heat as it washes down my throat. “You’re here because you want to annoy me.”
“Am I that obvious?” he asks with a laugh.
“You wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit you over the head.
” I cross my legs at the ankle and lounge in my armchair, watching him trace the edge of a scar at his hairline before scratching through the dark, buzzed bristles.
“This is just a repeat of the same event you do every year, yes? Why are you stressing over it?”
He shrugs, the white fabric of his button-down stretching across his muscled shoulders. “People want bigger and better. The charity we’re donating to relies on this event to fund most of its fiscal year. It’s important to give the people what they want.”
Thomas may be annoying and too playful for his own good, but he takes his work seriously.
His hard work ethic is one of the reasons we bonded so well.
Both of us are goal-oriented and like to make money, but in addition to that, we’re both fiercely loyal.
At the start of my journey into my business, Thomas was one of the men at my side who helped me get backers to make my business what it is today.
Another reason why I put up with his shit.
I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for him.
Taking a moment to enjoy my whiskey, I turn my attention once again back to him.
He puts this event on every year, a date auction to fundraise for a charity that helps victims of sexual assault.
His older sister's past is a big issue in why he takes this charity so seriously. Hell, her love for the lifestyle as well as his own is the reason why he created the club to begin with. To ensure people who enjoyed this way of life had a safe place to go to in order to have fun. Not to mention, the educational aspects of it. He’s even more into kink and BDSM than I am, so keeping people safe, especially in situations where submission is taken rather than given, is a subject near and dear to his heart.
He knows how to mix the allure of an elite lifestyle club with the importance of the cause, tugging at people’s heartstrings and their belts alike.
I’ve been to The Echelon many times over the years, both for events like this and for my own enjoyment, occasionally even just to share a drink with Thomas and overlook the debauchery of the back rooms.
He’s built himself an empire. Just as I have.
“Bigger and better.” I sigh and take a hefty swallow of my whiskey. “Story of the world, isn’t it?”
Thomas raises his glass in a silent, sardonic cheer, his smile more of a grimace.
“I’m thinking of opening invitations up a bit more this year,” he muses. “Maybe invite a few lifestyle influencers, some educators. I could set up a few demos for after the auction—flogging or shibari, something eye-catching.”
It’s not a bad idea, and the extra attention could do the club plenty of good even outside of the event itself.
There are too many people out there that don’t know what they’re doing when it comes to the world of kink, and the education Thomas shares could be beneficial to ensuring that people enjoy themselves safely.
“Charge a separate fee to see the demonstrations,” I suggest. “You could cord off part of the dungeon specifically for that instead of letting people roam free back there. You’d probably get plenty of applications for memberships after that.”
“How very like a CEO,” he teases, grinning widely. “Money, money, money.”
I shrug unapologetically, watching the golden liquor in my glass slosh against the sides as I swirl it gently. “So donate some. It’s a win-win.”
Thomas drains the last of his drink and leans forward to pour himself more.
“You’re annoying when you’re right,” he jokes. “Do you plan on showing your pretty face, or am I going to have to get someone else to come be eye candy for the ladies?”
“I might come,” I hum thoughtfully, choosing my words carefully. “Let me know when you finalize your plans and I’ll decide if there’s anything interesting enough to clear my schedule for.”
It’s not like I go to every event Thomas puts on at The Echelon, but I usually take time to come to his auctions.
They’re an easy way to spend a night with someone, and the girls know what to expect.
They don’t plan on getting my number or seeing me again—it’s just a night to enjoy each other and then forget each other.
It works well.
Now that I’ve got my hooks in Riley, the appeal of wasting time with anyone else has disappeared. The other girls are uneventful at best. Most of them are already familiar with the world and don’t care to be taught. They are there for their own release, as am I. No connection. No real desire.
With Riley, it’s different. She’s innocent and new. There’s a soft side of her that everyone gets to see, but there’s a more daring side of her that’s waiting to be unleashed. Like a toy that hasn’t been fully explored… and I damn sure want to explore every dark side she has to be unlocked.
When it comes to getting off, I don’t want anyone but her.
“Women begging to suck your dick isn’t interesting anymore? Don’t tell me you need the blue pills already,” Thomas says with an arched brow and a shit-eating grin. “Come on, there will be plenty of girls there who are just your type.”
I snort, not deigning to offer him more of a response than a single middle finger lazily raised as I take a swig of my whiskey.
“You don’t know what kind of woman I want, Tommy,” I say blandly.
“Blonde, busty, and bratty with legs a mile and a half long?” he lists without hesitation. “I’ve got about fifteen women already on the list who tick all those boxes. Give me some credit here.”
My lips twitch into an amused grin even as I shake my head.
Sure, that’s the type I go for when I pick women up at the club, and it doesn’t surprise me that Thomas took notice.
They were fine for a night—predictable and easy.
But I didn’t like them and had no desire to keep them for more than a few hours.
My interest has narrowed down since I first saw Riley, and it includes no one but her now that I’m finally getting close to calling her my own.
My obsession won’t let me look anywhere else.
I won’t stop until I can completely ruin her innocence in every possible way.
“Don’t worry about catering to me,” I say, brushing him off. “I’ll be there if I feel like it.”
A spark of interest lights in Thomas’s bright blue eyes, his gaze raking over me curiously as he tilts his head to the side. I don’t let myself stiffen at the way he studies me, no matter how much I hate it.
“Nicholas D’Amico, you’re an awful liar.”
I’m not, and he knows I’m not. He’s just too goddamn good at reading me after knowing me for our entire lives.
“Who’s the lucky lady?” he asks, leaning forward in excitement as he puts his glass down on the coffee table.
I swear he could live off gossip. I arch a brow and take a slow sip of my drink, polishing off the glass. “That’s none of your business.”
There’s no use lying. It’ll only make him push even harder, but I’m not going to give him any information on her. At least not anytime soon.
I’m taking baby steps closer to her, but she’s not mine yet.
Until she belongs entirely to me, I have no intention of telling anyone about her.
I’m taking things slow for once, being patient, and the rest of the world is going to have to do the same.
The last thing I’m willing to let happen is for someone else to try and come in to take what’s mine.
I wouldn’t put it past someone trying.
“You’ll meet her when I decide she’s ready,” I say to fend off Thomas’s slew of questions before they begin.
It does nothing to curb his curiosity, and he keeps his gaze steady on me.
“When she’s ready,” he repeats thoughtfully. “Not part of the kink scene, then. Does she know about your lifestyle?”
God, he’s annoyingly perceptive.
“She will soon enough. I’m introducing her to things slowly.” I keep the information I offer to a bare minimum, but I can’t help the note of pride that sneaks into my voice. “She’s a quick learner. A natural even over text.”
I can’t wait to see just how far that natural instinct goes when she’s on her knees for me properly. She’s going to be perfect for me; of that I have no doubt.
“Over text?” Thomas asks, his brows hiking up toward his hairline. “Don’t tell me you met her on a dating app.”
I chuckle at the thought, shaking my head. “Of course not. I’m not telling you where we met so don’t bother asking.”
Thomas’s face splits into a wide grin and he immediately asks, “Where’d you two meet?”
I blink at him, unimpressed with his sarcasm, and he leans back against the couch as he laughs, loud and boisterous. The fact that he’s still prying after I made it clear that I wasn’t going to tell him anything is rather annoying, but I’m not surprised.
It’s just who he is. A nosy busybody… but essentially my best friend.
“Fine, take all my fun,” he says with a fake pout. “Texting isn’t like you, though. Have you even fucked her yet?”
I wrinkle my nose at his bluntness, although it’s a question I wouldn’t hesitate to answer if she were anyone else. When it comes to Riley, the possessive part of me wants to keep everything about her to myself and hide her away from the world entirely.
I want even just the thought of her to belong to me.
“I’ve gotten a taste.”
The memory of that Halloween party after she officially got hired will forever be seared into my mind. She was so sweet for me, hot and wet and tight around my fingers, making the prettiest little noises against my lips as I made her come for me.
I’ve craved it ever since.
“So what—”
“Stop fishing,” I say, sharp and unamused. “I’m not giving you any more hints.”
Thomas laughs at my insistence, but he knows I’m done playing along for now. He holds his hands up innocently in a gesture of surrender.
“Alright, don’t bite my head off, I’ll behave.” He leans forward and picks his half-full glass up, raising it toward me. “To you. I look forward to meeting Miss Mystery.”