Reign: A Romance Anthology

by Nina Levine

  “You know I don’t date.”

  That statement dried up the waterworks. “I don’t want to date you, Bane. I just want you to fuck me and only me.”

  I frowned. That sounded a hell of a lot like dating to me. Well, my brand of dating, at least. “You know that can’t happen for exactly this reason.” I gestured to my trashed office, to the rug Dagger was bleeding on, to the fucking man she’d stabbed. Syn was another brand of crazy altogether.

  “But I love you.”

  “You don’t love me. You only think you do.”

  “But I’ve given you two blowjobs in as many days.”

  Fuck, her logic was twisted. “Because you were there, Syn. Lips around my dick are all the same.”

  “But I love you,” she whispered again. Like saying the words were going to make them any truer. “We’re meant to be together.”

  I glanced over at Dagger and shook my head. With a wince, he nodded and tried to stand, but his leg buckled beneath his bulk.

  “Stay the fuck down, you stupid bastard,” I snarled before turning back to Syn. “I’m sorry, baby, but you’re fired. Effective immediately.”

  The color drained from her face. “You can’t fire me. You can’t fire me…” On and on she went with the denial. I was afraid to let her up given the amount of crazy she’d displayed tonight, but Dagger wasn’t in any state to move. Transferring Syn’s wrists to one hand, I dug in my pocket for my phone.

  “Rach,” I said.

  “Mr. Rivera?”

  “Yeah, can you call the doc and get him to swing by. There’s been a situation in my office.”

  “Do I need to send Tony up?”

  “Nah, he’s the only one on the door. Just call the doc.” I hung up and tried to wrap my head around this shit. Syn was still blubbering about how she can’t be out of a job and she loved me.

  Dagger was taking it like a fucking man and not making much noise at all.

  I was mourning the loss of my Wren high.

  Yeah, tonight was a fucking disaster. I was a girl short and a bodyguard down. And the desire to claim my Little Bird was starting to become a relentless pounding in my skull.

  10

  Wren

  I dreamed of him. Of Bane. Of him bending me over the countertop in that private bathroom and slamming inside me. My dream-self screamed in pleasure at the invasion, at his ownership of me. I hadn’t even seen his cock, but dream Wren had an incredibly active imagination. And a very generous one.

  Rolling over in my bed, I let out a deep breath and kicked off the thin sheet that had been covering me. It was only seven in the morning, and it was already in the nineties. The only positive I could take from the situation was that it was Saturday and the last day of the working week.

  Getting up, I showered and dressed in my uniform, already looking forward to finishing up this afternoon and doing nothing tonight. Going out last night had left me almost too exhausted to sleep, but with the vivid image of Bane’s head between my thighs, my subconscious was clearly eager to get into the REM zone.

  As I ate breakfast, I checked my phone. I had a couple of missed calls from Darcy which had come through after I’d crashed. Fuck, I was supposed to meet her last night. Instead of listening to the voice mails, I just hit dial.

  “Oh, thank Christ you’re not dead,” she answered.

  “Good morning to you, too.”

  “Don’t give me that shit, Wren Montana. Where the fuck were you last night? You didn’t call. Didn’t text.”

  “I’m so sorry, babe. It’s kind of a long story.”

  “Does it involve sex because you know that’s the only acceptable excuse for me.”

  I sank into my couch, a bowl of cereal on the table in front of me. “Yes, it involves sex.”

  “All is forgiven, then,” she said. “Proceed.”

  And I did. I told her how Bane had hijacked me at the front door by putting me on the VIP list. How he’d followed me into the bathroom then proceeded to give me two of the best orgasms of my life. I’d been so ashamed of myself when I left the bathroom that all I wanted to do was go home.

  “Wren, babe, what are you going to do? I mean, I totally get why you wouldn’t want to become Bane’s private pussy, but isn’t it a means to an end? Two weeks isn’t that long, and then Hawk’s debt will be gone.”

  “Maybe,” I conceded. “Until he fucks up again. We both know he’s going to.”

  “True… so what are you going to do?”

  I ran a hand through my ponytail and dropped it onto my lap. “I don’t know.”

  “Want me to come over tonight?”

  I smiled. Darcy was the best friend a girl could have. “Nah, I’m okay. When I finish up work tonight, I’m going to soak in the tub, then watch some Netflix before bed.”

  “All right,” she said reluctantly. “But if you change your mind and want me to come over, I will. Baron will totally understand.”

  “Thanks, babe. I better let you go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I hung up the phone, not feeling better at all. Maybe I was being stubborn in not accepting Bane’s terms. He was right that a piece of paper could be dangerous for a man like him. It would look like he’d solicited sex, which in a way he was, but this was a personal contract.

  And if I did do this, Hawk would be off the hook. I loved my brother, would do anything for him, but there had to be some limits. There had to be a line in the sand that I wasn’t willing to cross. Bane Rivera might just be that line.

  As I walked to the shop, I shot a text to my brother, asking if he had any luck raising the cash he owed to Bane. I answered his call a moment later.

  “Hey, so I think I’ve found a way.”

  “A legal way?” I asked. My brother looked for loopholes like a lawyer did—with precision and dedication.

  “It’s horse racing… of course, it’s legal.”

  I barely held in my groan. Of all the stupid, dumb-ass moves he could make.

  “Hawk, for fuck’s sake! Really? You’re gambling to get money?”

  “Well, if you know of a better way to clear my debt with Rivera, I am all ears.”

  I hadn’t told him about the proposition. If he knew, he’d begged me to take it because he could be selfish like that. I understood fear was driving a lot of his words and behaviors, but I still felt that nagging sense of responsibility.

  We’d been on our own since I was sixteen and Hawk was twelve. After bouncing from foster home to foster home together, I became emancipated at eighteen, got us an apartment, and took care of him ever since. That need to protect him was as strong as a mother’s instinct, and I couldn’t shake this ingrained need so easily.

  I arrived at the shop, unlocked the door, and slipped inside. After shutting off the alarm, I told him, “I don’t, but I’m going to go and talk to the bank to see if they’ll offer me an emergency business loan.”

  He blew out a breath, then said the words I’d been waiting to hear from him. “I’m so fucking scared, Wren.”

  “I know. We’ll figure it out, though.” I glanced up as my nine o’clock client came in with her poodle. “I have to go, Hawk. I’ll let you know how I go with the bank.”

  I finally flipped the sign closed on the shop front and breathed a sigh of relief. I was officially in weekend territory, and I couldn’t wait to get home. After scrubbing the place down and setting the alarm, I grabbed my bag, locked up the shop, and began the short walk home. I stopped in at the liquor store and picked up some wine, but as I walked past a display of champagne, I paused. A champagne kiss was all I could think about. That, along with the man who had given them to me.

  “They’re on sale right now,” the clerk said, giving me a warm smile.

  I returned it but shook my head. I couldn’t afford champagne right now. I clutched my cheap bottle of red wine more tightly and brought it to the counter. “Maybe next time,” I told him with a small shrug.

  “Big plans for tonight?”

  “
I’m not sure. Unless you count a long soak in the tub and Netflix as big plans.”

  He grinned. “You sound just like my girlfriend. She does the same.”

  “Smart woman,” I replied, digging into my purse for some cash. I scraped together the last of my money to pay for the booze, then said goodbye to the clerk.

  When I got to my apartment, I unlocked the door, then went through the re-locking routine before placing the wine on the kitchen counter. I’d just toed off my Vans when there was a loud banging on my apartment door. Walking over, I yanked the thing open, staring at my brother who was breathing like a racehorse.

  The irony was not lost on me.

  He burst into my apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. I narrowed my eyes at him, bracing myself for the next words out of his motherfucking mouth. “I fucked up, Wren.”

  I was suddenly getting flashbacks to when he’d said those words to me only a few nights ago. “What the fuck have you done this time, Hawk?”

  “I owe a bookie some money.” I stared at him in disbelief, trying to file all his words into my mind in an orderly fashion. They made sense on their own, but thrown together, I couldn’t quite grasp how fucking stupid he was being.

  “You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re fucking laughing at my expense.”

  He shook his head, his expression serious. “No, sis.”

  Rage bubbled up inside me, this dormant beast of emotions that Hawk seemed to tap into every time he did something like this. “Fuck! How much do you owe?”

  He actually winced. “Twenty thousand.”

  I blinked. “If you owe Bane-fucking-Rivera fifty thousand dollars, why the fuck would you bet another twenty you don’t even have?”

  “I was desperate, okay. And it was a sure thing. Come on, you have to believe me.”

  “I do believe you. I believe you’re a gigantic asshole who doesn’t think about how this shit impacts his sister. What am I supposed to do with this information?”

  He began to pace, spearing his fingers through his blond hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” he muttered. “Did you speak to the bank about that loan?”

  “Are you fucking serious, Hawk?” My voice had hit screeching levels, and I wasn’t even apologizing for it.

  “Well, have you? You could borrow enough to cover both debts.”

  Stalking into the kitchen, I pulled my emergency bottle of whisky from a top cupboard and slammed it down onto the Formica. “Fuck.” I poured myself a shot of whiskey and swallowed it. Wincing at the burn, I yelled, “You do know how loans work, right? I have to pay all of this back, plus interest, and how am I supposed to achieve that if you’re out there fucking making bets and being a general prick about things?”

  He followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “There has to be a way.”

  I eyed him over the rim of my whiskey glass as I threw another shot back. “There is. It’s called a dirt bed, and it’ll be yours.”

  I hated that I had to threaten him like this, but he wouldn’t learn. What did he think the bookie was going to do when he found out Hawk didn’t have the money he owed, just pat him on the back and say better luck next time? I poured myself another shot, hissing through my teeth as the cheap alcohol burned my throat. I tried to come up with a plan that could work, but all I came up with was one that I didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

  I didn’t want to touch it, but maybe I could stroke it just enough, so it’d back off.

  Striding from the kitchen, I walked into my bedroom and swiped the black business card off my dresser. In the living room, I scooped up my phone and punched in the number on the back. As I put the device to my ear, I let out a breath and prayed I was doing the right thing.

  There was a click, and then…

  “Little Bird.”

  11

  Bane

  “Little Bird? Are you there?” I checked my phone to make sure the connection hadn’t cut off.

  “I’m here,” she said with an irritated sigh.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call?”

  “I need a favor.”

  My eyes slid shut as the four sweetest words were uttered on the other end of the phone. “I’m listening.”

  “My asshole brother owes a bookie twenty grand after betting on a horse race. If he’d won, he was going to pay you back with that money.”

  “Let me guess, his horse didn’t win.”

  “Not even fucking close,” she replied. “Are you able to loan me the money to pay the bookie?”

  I wanted to laugh out loud. This was all too fucking perfect. Wren’s desperation was the thing to make her come running to me, looking for help. I leaned back in my office chair and placed my feet on the desk. “Hawk would owe me seventy thousand, then,” I mused.

  “I’m aware.” Her words were curt like she was biting her tongue. She hated every minute of this. But me? I was fucking enjoying the hell out of it.

  “I totally get it if you don’t want to get in any deeper with—”

  “Deal.” When she said nothing in reply, I made sure the call was still connected. “Wren?”

  There was the sound of a door closing. Then, “I’m here.”

  “Good. I’m coming over to discuss the terms.” I hung up without waiting for her reply. She was in no position to argue with me, anyway. I had her just where I wanted her. Standing from my desk, I looked down on the club, seeing it all running as it should.

  Dagger had half a dozen stitches in his thigh after Syn’s attack, but he’d insisted on still working tonight. For that, I was grateful because I was about to do something I hadn’t done since I opened The Dollhouse.

  I was leaving early on a Saturday night.

  Plucking my suit jacket off the back of my chair, I patted my pockets for my keys, then picked up my phone, dialing my driver.

  “Be there in five,” he replied and hung up.

  Sliding the device into the breast pocket of my jacket, I left the office. When I walked past the bar, Rachel gave me a small smile. The bruising was getting worse, but that was a good sign. It meant she was healing.

  “Have you moved out yet?” I demanded, taking her situation very fucking personally.

  She bobbed her head as she focused on pouring a drink. “I’m staying with Kandy for a while.”

  “Thank fuck. Let me know if you need help finding a new place. I own a couple of apartment buildings downtown.” She stared at me like I was speaking in tongues. “You good?”

  Clearing her throat, she croaked, “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, boss.”

  I lifted my chin in Dagger’s direction as I passed her, slowing when he paused his conversation with one of the dancers. “How’s the leg?”

  “Fine,” he replied, raising his brows in question.

  “Heading out for the night. Make sure everything runs smoothly. Call me if shit gets hectic.”

  “Will do.”

  I clapped him on the shoulder as I passed, then stepped out onto the street. My town car was right where it was supposed to be, and I gave Andy Wren’s address.

  She lived in a shitty part of town, and I would talk to her about setting her up elsewhere that had a lot more security. Knowing my Little Bird, she wouldn’t fucking like it, but I took care of what was mine. Just thinking about how she’d fight me on it made my dick hard.

  By the time we pulled up at the curb, I was aching for her cunt. That little taste I’d had at the club hadn’t been enough. I wanted the whole damn meal this time. But before I could satisfy the darker side of me, we had a little business to take care of.

  I took the stairs to her apartment, knocking on the door when I got there. A moment later, Wren pulled it open, and my brain kind of fritzed out. She was dressed in those fucking Daisy Dukes again, her lean tanned legs on display, and a loose white T-shirt that hung off one of her shoulders. Stepping away from the door, she let me in, her eyes on me the entire time.

  I was glad to see the p
lace was empty. I turned when she shut the door behind her, and she wrapped her arms around herself for a moment before letting them go loose at her sides.

  “Drink?” she mumbled, already walking into the kitchen. I followed her in there, seeing a bottle of whisky on the counter beside a shot glass. “Sorry, I don’t have any of that expensive shit you have at The Dollhouse,” she said, gesturing to the whisky. “If I did, I wouldn’t be shooting this fucking swill.”

  I watched as she poured herself a shot and threw it back.

  “How much have you had to drink?” I asked, wrapping my hands around the bottle and placing the opening to my mouth. I kept my eyes on her as I took a large swallow, then lowered it.

  “Not enough.”

  “Regretting your decision to call me?” I asked. I had to know where her head was at. I wasn’t into coercing women. They had to want to do something, but I knew Wren’s submission would be sweet.

  “No. I’m fucking pissed off with Hawk for being so fucking thoughtless.” She stared at me, and her gaze seemed to strip away everything I showed to the world. “Do you ever wonder why you fucking bother with family sometimes?”

  “Never. Family is everything.”

  She huffed a laugh and took the bottle from my hand, pouring herself another drink. “What if the family you have is so fucking self-centered that they can’t see that everything you do is for them?”

  I thought about that for a moment, then replied, “Then maybe they don’t deserve you.”

  She saluted me with a sardonic smile, then slammed back the shot. Leaving the glass on the counter, she weaved past me on the way to the couch. Her living room was sparsely decorated, but there were a few personal touches here and there in the form of photographs of her and Hawk growing up.

  “I love what you’ve done with the place,” I drawled.

  “Don’t be an asshole,” she snarled, jabbing her finger in my direction. “You’re the one who invited himself over.”