6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
The Hound
I stare at the book on the counter. Untouched. Unmoved. I can’t help but reach for it again with my free hand as I take another sip of coffee. I flip through it, and then release it, leaning back against the light gray cabinets.
There’s more to this. I know it.
“You getting into romance novels now?” Henry jokes as he enters the kitchen, his phone in his hand. I’m sure he’s texting Lydia. He’s always fucking texting Lydia.
“Think I’ll just stick to reading people’s medical records,” I say flatly, my eyes shifting toward the wall of windows. I take in the Vegas mid-day skyline. Last night—well, early this morning—is still burned in my brain for reasons I don’t understand entirely. Something shifted in Cher at the end of our conversation, and I don’t know if she was embarrassed, or if there’s something else entirely going on with her.
But I intend to find out.
Just with a lot more precautions in place.
“Did you manage to get anything on Jaxton Banks?” Henry goes for the coffee machine, pouring his own cup and taking a sip. “I’m thinking about a stakeout tonight.”
“Yeah, I got some,” I answer him, shoving Cher into a box in my mind and closing the lid... for now. I try to stretch out what little I know about Jaxton to sound like I spent a lot more time on it than I did. “The target works a lot, has a clean bill of health, and keeps to himself most of the time. His finance firm is only about a mile from here, actually. I don’t know what he does in his free time.”
“Any close associates?”
“Uh,” I hesitate. “Haven’t got to that yet.”
“Hmm. Maybe we should do it old school? Do more physical staking out this time? It could be fun to change things up a little.” Henry shoots me a dangerous grin.
“Sounds like a good way to fuck up,” I mutter. “But then again, it might get us out of here sooner. I like that idea.” Kind of.
“That, or it gives us a chance to have more fun,” Henry reasons. “I’ve already talked to Lydia, and she said she can come here and visit for a while after they finish up in Florida.”
“Great.” I sip more bitter liquid.
“So sincere,” he snorts, but then pauses as a raven-haired mess of a woman steps into the kitchen. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” Cher slaps a smile on her face. “Right back at you.” She doesn’t even give me a passing glance as she makes her way to the coffee machine, reaching into the cabinet. I take in the oversized T-shirt and shorts, her pale bare legs beckoning me to stare a few beats longer. I roll my gaze up the back of her thighs to her ass, clad in a pair of loose shorts. I swallow my coffee and look away.
“You took my mug.” Cher’s voice comes out terse, and I’m met with an icy, hateful glare—though it’s focused on my chin rather than my eyes.
I glance down at the entirely plain, black coffee cup in my hand. “This?”
“Yeah, that. ”
“It’s just a coffee cup,” Henry interjects. “No reason to—”
“It’s the one I always use,” Cher cuts him off and takes a step toward me. However, she still won’t meet my gaze head on as she holds out her hand. Henry bursts into laughter.
“I’m not done,” I tell her, even though there’s hardly anything left.
“I don’t care.” She makes a swipe for it, but I lean away. Her body collides with mine, and a sweet, musky feminine perfume slams into my nostrils. I stiffen at the warmth of her chest against my upper abdomen.
“You could ask nicely,” I say to her, my voice uneven as I finally catch her gaze for real. She immediately diverts her eyes and shoves off me.
Henry’s phone ringing explodes the tension, and in my peripheral, I see him slip out of the kitchen, greeting Lydia warmly. My heart skips a beat at the moment alone with his sister.
“Are you going to ask nicely now?” I urge her, holding the coffee cup out of her reach. “You shouldn’t be so rude to guests.”
Her jaw tenses, and as threatening as she is, she’s kind of adorable, too. “I don’t have to ask nicely for my own fucking cup.”
“I think you do,” I dare her, a blast of excitement pulsing through my core. “I don’t enjoy impolite hosts.”
She narrows her gaze. “I don’t enjoy stalker guests.”
I grin. “Shouldn’t have invited your brother then.”
“Fuck off.”
My cock stirs at her venom, aroused by the challenge—by the idea of forcing this woman to her knees, and making her beg for my forgiveness. My hands begin to sweat with need, and for a moment, I start to play with the idea of getting what I want, regardless of what Henry would think. The things I could do to her.
“Can I please just have the stupid fucking cup?” Cher’s voice cuts through the fantasy, and I frown as reality replaces my desires.
“Yeah, whatever.” I surrender, dropping my arm and holding it out for her.
She snags it from me, and then immediately turns to the trash can, stepping on the lever that lifts the lid, and chunking it inside.
My jaw drops. “You could just wash it?”
She slowly turns her head back to me, her expression insidiously dark and threatening. “I don’t want my lips on anything you’ve ever fucking touched, Hound .”
I curl my lip at the shit nickname her brother gave me. You bad, bad girl. However, as I open my mouth to spew something back at the derogatory remark, Henry’s reappearance in the kitchen stops me.
He raises his brow at the two of us. “You guys good?”
Cher breaks into a sickeningly sweet smile. “Yeah, just talking about how long you guys were planning on staying.”
“Yep,” I play right into it. “I told her we might be here a while. You said you wanted to take care of the hit, and then hang out and enjoy the city. It’ll give us a chance to bond—like one big happy family.”
Cher’s face flashes with what I think might be panic, but it dissipates quickly. “Oh really? You don’t think Lydia will want you to get home?”
Henry chuckles. “I think she’s going to join us when the trip is over, actually.”
I see the false excitement on his sister’s face. I see right through the fa?ade she’s wearing, but it’s clear as fucking day that Henry doesn’t.
“That’ll be great,” Cher beams. “I can show Lydia my favorite spots around the city.”
Like back alleyways where you pick up ‘books?’
“I’d love to see some of those, too,” I say, keeping a chipper tone. “Henry’s planning a stake out tonight, maybe you could show me?”
She never looks at me. “I have to work.”
“Where at?” I ask, smiling.
Her jaw ticks. “Just a bar downtown.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t have to entertain Jude,” Henry cuts in, reading the scenario all fucking wrong once again. “He can find something to do for himself—like gathering more intel.”
“Ah, yeah, good idea.” I chuckle. “I forgot we were here on work-related business for a minute.”
Cher bites down on her lip, and I wonder if she does that when she’s about to orgasm—but maybe she just closes her eyes. Maybe she never lets herself feel pleasure. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who enjoys anything in life.
I could show her. Or force her.
The latter has my cock throbbing, and I’m suddenly desperate to work it out of my system. I want something real for once. It’s been so fucking long. I breathe out, my ears ringing too loud to hear the light conversation Cher and her brother are having right in front of me. I spin on my heels and head out of the kitchen, not stopping until I’m locked away in my own fucking bedroom.
I need release.
I sweep the mouse across the pad and wake up my computer. I navigate to the CCTV footage I hacked into in the early hours of the morning, where I watched Cher over and over again in that stupid blonde wig. I replay it once more as I unzip my jeans and pull myself out.
You saw what happened to Henry and Lydia. Emma and Luca. And Henry will hate you.
My fingers wrap around my shaft, hesitating. I know I won’t be able to stop this obsession once it starts, either—and this isn’t like Luca or Henry’s situation. Cher has no interest in me. I know I’m setting myself up for fucking torture. Unrequited attraction. She already hates me. I can see it all over her face. But maybe I could change her mind, and then...
Then I could force her to submit to me.
I stroke once, my eyes flickering back to the soft grainy curve of her hips. My mind starts running with possibilities. If I could just get her to say yes to one fucking night with me, the things we could do...
“Shit,” I mutter, instantly dropping my hand away. That’ll never happen. Don’t feed a desire that’ll never be met.
Rejection, embarrassment, and defeat riddle my core. I quickly put myself away and exit out of the video. I’d never proposition Henry’s sister. I’d never fucking proposition anyone. The few women I’ve been with were before I fell from my throne of wealth. And they actually wanted me. Well, my wallet, but whatever.
Over a decade ago. A fucking decade. Might as well be considered a virgin.
I roll my eyes, and then slam my fist down on the table. I need to fix this. Get laid. I’m in Vegas for fuck’s sake. That shouldn’t be hard to accomplish. Not even for me.
After I figure out where Cher works and what she’s up to, of course.
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, and I jump up, rushing to it and unlocking it. I swing the door open to see Henry standing there, an amused look on his face.
“Why was the door locked?”
“To prevent creeps like you from barging in,” I joke, moving to the side and letting him step across the threshold. “What’s up?”
“We need to get to work and learn as much as we can before tonight.”
I nod, hearing another door close somewhere in the apartment. Henry plops down in the chair and navigates to the folder of what little information I’ve gathered. I lean against the wall while he scrolls, pulling out my phone and navigating to an app I developed for location tracking. Being this close to Cher’s phone should make it easy.
I set it up to ask for access to her phone, and then wait. All it’ll do is flash a message across her screen asking her to approve an update for her phone software later tonight. Either answer will let me in.
“Did you notice he frequents a sex club called Shooter’s?” Henry muses, still paying attention to the screen.
“Hmm, sounds like fun,” I mumble as I stare at my screen, waiting to be let into Cher’s phone. After a few more mindless moments of zoning out on the flashing dot in front of my eyes, it finally goes through.
Got you, you little coffee cup stealing shit.
Now, I know exactly what I’ll be doing tonight. I mean, just because I can’t touch her, doesn’t mean I can’t at least watch her. Besides, there’s still the mystery of what was really going on in that alley.
And I’m going to solve it. If only just for the distraction it provides.