by E. M. Gayle
"I didn't," she said as she turned away. "He posted a buy now option as well as took bids. I had no idea what to do. The clock was ticking, but with that buy option it could have ended at any second if someone was willing to pay it."
The rage growing in the pit of my stomach turned murderous. I didn't need to hear the rest to know what she'd done or what I was going to do when I found this fucker. But I wanted to hear it anyway. "Tell me," I bit out, barely able to control myself.
She shook her head, saying nothing more.
"Goddamnit, Zia!" I grabbed her arm and turned her around to face me. "You’re not only going to tell me exactly what you did, but you’re going to do it looking me in the eye. Don't be a coward now."
"You're a dick," she hissed. "Besides, what's the point? You’re smart enough to put two and two together."
"Tell me!" I knew the harsh tone of my voice had put fear in her heart, but I couldn't see past the red haze of anger. I could only deal with one emotion at a time right now and I needed to hear her say it.
"Oh my fucking God. I paid it. I pressed the buy now button and ended the stupid fucking auction. Are you happy now?"
"How much?"
"It doesn't matter. What choice did I have?" There were tears forming at the corners of her eyes and yet I couldn't let it go. The anger over this whole thing had nowhere else to go.
"How much?" I didn't care if the words were growled instead of spoken. I expected an answer and neither of us were going anywhere until I got it.
A lone silent tear spilled onto her cheek as our stare down continued. My resolve didn't waver, but I did feel a moment of something. The spark of need to take care of my woman had ignited and was now threatening to engulf me if I so much as let it in beyond an inch.
Finally, she spoke. "1.1 million dollars. Every cent and asset I had to my name after years of blood, sweat and tears." The words were accompanied by more tears and I wanted to tell her how beautiful they were. I'd forced them from her, but they were mine.
Only I still had the rage roiling inside me and it was dangerous. Too dangerous to comfort her, that's for sure. Which only left one thing.
"Take off your clothes."
She blinked a moment before her eyes widened, the latest track of tears still freshly painted on her cheeks. "Excuse me?" Her voice broke, not nearly as outraged as expected.
"You can take them off or I'll rip them off of you. Your choice."
She stood taller for a moment and even tapped her foot. "How dare you. What the hell is wrong with you anyways? You drag me out here under the guise of us working together, then you demand my secrets in the most painful way possible, only to expect me to then have sex with you? Are you completely out of your mind?"
I was and there was no point in denying it, but I also doubted that she even realized what she'd done of her own free will. Her voice and outrage had risen while at the same time she'd done exactly what I'd asked. Her pants and shirt were lying in a heap on my living room floor and she stood in front of me totally naked except for a small scrap of white lace panties.
She'd forgone a bra and her perky little tits were rising and falling with each angry word out of her mouth. All I wanted was to put my mouth on them and torture her mercilessly until she begged me to let her come.
That single minded thought had me moving forward to cup one in my hand. "If I'm out of my mind, then what does that make you? You just blindly obeyed a madman."
The reward of her sharp intake of breath was a gift from the heavens. Not quite as good as her screams, but delicious none the less. And when she didn't immediately protest I continued.
"Wet too I'll bet. Now put your hands on the back of the couch and spread your legs for me."
She didn't immediately move so I tapped my foot against her ankle and pushed my knee between my legs.
I also swiped my fingers across her cheek through the path of tears still silently falling. "It's okay to cry. I want your tears. Tonight they're mine."
"We have no business doing this."
"Maybe not. But it's happening." I shoved my hand between her legs and rubbed against the thin silk barrier between me and her cunt. "Unless you tell me to stop..."
Chapter Fourteen
ZIA
I sucked in air because my lungs were screaming at me to breathe. What the hell was I doing? I didn't know what I exactly expected to happen by coming here tonight, but this wasn't it.
With tears still streaming down my face and intermittent sobs making it difficult to catch my breath, Vincent was biting at my pussy through my panties. My heart hammered as the blood roared in my ears.
Despite everything, I'd drenched my panties and he'd made sure I couldn't hide it. And yet I still stood here allowing this to happen. No, not just allowing. I wanted it. Felt like I'd die right now if he stopped. And he knew it.
From the moment we'd met he'd managed to get to the heart of what I really wanted despite my denial. And I wanted this—him—taking what he needed, knowing I needed more in return. Tears and all.
But the pain of consequences still lingered and I didn't yet know how to reconcile all of this. "Vincent, we—"
"We're done talking," he growled. He yanked my panties to the side and pushed his fingers between my seam.
I clamped my teeth over my bottom lip and stopped talking. I was afraid. Either that he'd stop because I couldn't shut up or that he'd ignore my protests and do what he wanted anyway.
Yes, I was going crazy. I knew that too.
I wanted to clutch at his shoulders and steady my shaking legs or maybe push him away, but the need to obey remained strong. Not to mention the tell-tale sounds of how aroused I'd become as his fingers pumped easily through the slick heat between my legs would make me a liar if I dared to deny anything.
"Jesus. I love how wet you get when we're together. Look at yourself." I followed his gaze to the juncture between us and watched wordlessly as he added another finger to my opening and shoved all of them into me. "How can you threaten to deprive either of us from this? When we so obviously fit so well together."
"Oh God," I cried, feeling overwhelmed and desperate for more at the same time. If he thought I could process any logic right now, then he was crazier than me.
He'd asked a question, but the only sound I could make were the unsolicited moans he was forcing out of me. Besides, how exactly was I supposed to argue with his brand of arrogance? When this man focused, he had a spectacular, mind bending singular track that he refused to deter from.
If that meant that right now he wanted to practice all of his dirty little sins on me, fuck that felt good, then I'd be an idiot to disagree.
I opened my mouth to say something, hell anything that made sense, when he leaned forward and sucked my clit into his mouth right through my panties.
Oh hell, the friction. My eyelids slid shut and my eyes began a slow roll of ecstasy. I was halfway to a frenzy, and a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stopped.
I cried out in protest and a dark chuckle vibrated against my skin. "Hands, Zia."
Oh shit.
My eyes jerked open to find both of my hands now clenched in his hair, trying to hold him into place.
"I appreciate your fervor, but this is my show and you are not in control." As if to emphasize his words, his free hand wrapped around the back of my ass and squeezed roughly.
I'd forgotten how hard it was to maintain my position as he dragged me to the depths of pleasure. But why? I wanted to know what difference did it make whether I held onto the couch or to him. There were so many questions I never got answered.
Honestly, though. Did it matter right this second? How important was it when I could feel the clench of my empty core silently begging him to fill me again and make me come. In my own way I was just as greedy as him and all that mattered in this moment was that he finish what he started.
If I had to give him my obedience to get it, it was an easy and willing price I'd pay. I slowly put my hands back
on the couch, slipping a little as my muscles shook.
As his fingers and mouth resumed, I caught a satisfied gleam in his eye that was so filled with something dark I gasped. I was mesmerized by that look as his strokes inside me got rougher, the friction from his tongue relentless.
All of it made me crazy. All of it. But the way he looked at me—staring at me as if he could see straight into the heart of all my darkest desires as if they belonged to him—was the single most erotic thing I'd ever seen.
As the pressure built in my core, I bucked against his face so desperate I could no longer see straight. I was so close.
"Excuse me, Mr. Cabrini. Your next guest has arrived at the gates."
I stiffened at the unexpected intrusion, my hands flailing as I tried to scramble away. "What the—?"
Vincent's grip on my ass however, only tightened and it was impossible for me to move. Fear and panic rose as his fingers continued to stroke in and out of me as I fought against him.
"Be still, I'm not done. It's just the intercom."
"Vincent," I whined.
"Fight it and I'll only tie you down." He turned his head slightly to the side. "Thanks, Will. Go ahead and let them in and direct them here to the living room."
"But—but—" I gasped, still unable to string any decent words together.
"But nothing. You'll either come for me now or you'll come in front of an audience. Either way I'm not stopping until it happens."
"I—I can't."
"You can and you will. Now relax and trust me."
Those were dangerous words, but I felt them down to my gut. I may not know everything about this man, but I did know he would see this through. I also knew that whoever had arrived at his home in the middle of the night was not someone I wanted to witness this.
I stopped fighting and grabbed onto the sofa cushions, forcing the rest of my body to relax. In the span of seconds it took me to settle back into place, Vincent returned his mouth to me and suckled at the bundle of nerves already primed and ready for him.
It wasn't as hard to concentrate on him as I'd thought. Not with his dark gaze still drilling into me, silently ordering me to give him exactly what he wanted. It also didn't hurt that he played me expertly with both fingers and tongue as if he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life.
The roughness returned and despite the panic that someone would walk in any moment, I rode him as ruthlessly as he thrust into me.
"Yes. Yes," I cried as the pressure built recklessly high.
"Come," he growled just as the doorbell rang on the other side of the house. At that point I was too far gone to care. I was literally coming apart at the seams.
The suddenness of my orgasm shooting through me made all the air leave my body as the room darkened to little pinpricks of light and complete silence. Every muscle in my body clenched as I tried to knife forward only to be held in place by Vincent's fierce and bruising grip.
I had to have made some kind of sound, but I heard nothing, saw nothing beyond the immense fathomless depth of pleasure that felt more like a free fall into space.
If not for the hard kisses to my chest and neck, I might have passed out. But when his lips finally met mine, and his tongue slipped past my mouth, my body responded the only way it could and I kissed him back in between gasping breaths. His fingers still worked me as I rode out the tremors and the aftershocks that left me shaking.
It wasn't clear how much time had passed, but before I could fathom what was happening, Vincent had my panties and skirt back into place while he continued to press tender kisses along my jawline.
"You taste particularly sweet when you're angry. I'm going to remember that."
I couldn't have come up with a retort at that point if I tried. Although I did clearly remember my tears and what had caused them. This crazy, insane beautiful man may have given me one of the best orgasms of my life, but that didn't mean I'd forgotten the humiliation he'd forced out of me first.
"Vincent," I started, my tone as sharp as I could get it all things considered.
He pulled back and stared down at me. "We don't have time to do this now. Our guest will be making an appearance in about thirty seconds."
My head whipped around to search the house. Oh my God. I'd forgotten. The voice on the intercom. The security gate. The doorbell.
Flight or fight endorphins rushed through me. "I've got to—"
"Calm down. There is a guest suite right through those doors at the end of the hall. Take all the time you need to pull yourself together and then join us."
I frantically turned my head from the hallway to Vincent, my mind unable to focus on a decision. "But who?"
"Take a breath. There's no need to panic." As if he was trying to focus me or something, Vincent pinched my thigh hard enough to make me squeal.
"Oww. What the fuck?!"
His dark chuckle returned and I wanted to slap or pinch him right back.
"Go. Pull yourself together. My guest won't be here long and you'll want to talk to him before he leaves."
The need to argue and demand answers pushed at me hard, but the approach of footsteps and low voices propelled me into action instead. I could imagine what a mess I was.
Unwilling to face whatever or whomever in this state, I fled through the doorway Vincent had pointed out and down the hallway without another word. True to his word there was another door at the end and when I slipped inside I found a ginormous bedroom. The cavernous space could have filled half my New York apartment. Well, former apartment. But still... if this was the guest suite, I so wasn't ready for the master bedroom.
There were two doors on the opposite wall and I figured one of them had to lead to a bathroom. I tried one and smiled that I'd found it on the first try.
Of course what I saw in the mirror only confirmed what I'd thought. With my hair a tangled mess and the red flush of my face it was more than obvious what we'd been up to.
Although as I peered closer, I had to admit I kind of liked the look. Apparently, mind blowing orgasms were good for my skin. I grabbed a hand towel and ran it under some warm water before I pressed it to my flushed face and neck. A slight smile tipped at the corner of my lips that I couldn't contain.
Then reality set in. I was currently at Vincent's home. The home of a very rich person from what I'd seen thus far. I hadn't really thought about it, but champion boxers must make a ton of money. There was a lot of public talk about how much ball players made, but I didn't hear much about boxers. And here I was on the verge of bankruptcy and homelessness. If this restaurant didn't work out, I'd have nothing left to fall back on.
And now he knew.
A fresh flush of red crawled up my skin, but this time it wasn't a flattering shade of euphoria. Humiliation never looked good on anyone. Especially not me.
I tossed the towel on the counter and fished my fingers through my hair until I got my hair enough under control to be presentable. I swiped at my clothing and smoothed some of the wrinkles as best I could. This process would have been a lot easier if I'd thought to grab my purse...
Crap. I didn't even know where my purse was. It had dropped from my shoulder at some point, but I didn't remember when. Maybe in the living room. Maybe in the car. Shit. My cell phone was in there and I'd need that to call for an Uber to get myself back to the hotel.
Guess it was time to return to the main area of the house and face whatever Vincent had cooked up. I couldn't imagine who had arrived here in the middle of the night and why I would want to talk to them.
I left the bathroom and made my way back the way I'd come. As I approached the beautiful open living room I could hear male voices talking. Vincent and... I didn't recognize the voice.
"She's convinced that the threats have come from her ex-husband, but that's not the case, is it?"
Vincent's question made me freeze.
What?
Was he talking about my situation with a stranger? I was going to fucking kill him.
Chapter Fifteen
ZIA
I rounded the corner and found Vincent seated in the living room with another man seated across from him. His back was to me, but not for long because Vincent spotted me the minute I entered the room and sprang to his feet.
"Zia, perfect timing. I need you to meet someone."
The stranger also stood and slowly turned to face me. I don't know what or who I expected, but the ruggedly handsome man with short buzzed hair and vibrant blue eyes caught me off guard.
"What's going on?" I didn't care if I was interrupting. In the twenty seconds since I'd heard Vincent discussing our situation, I'd gone from curious to furious.
"I told you I hired someone to look into this situation. This is Houston Reed. He heads up the Hawkins Security group here in Vegas. Houston, this is Zia. The newest headliner at The Sinclair."
The man stepped forward and held out his hand. "Very nice to meet you, Zia."
I didn't want to make small talk or exchange pleasantries, but the manners instilled in me at a young age wouldn't allow me to ignore his greeting. I shook his hand. "Mr. Reed."
"He's here to update us on his progress so far as well as gather what information you can give him."
"A clandestine meeting in the middle of the night. Isn't that an unusual way to conduct business?"
Mr. Reed and Vincent both laughed. "Kind of par for the course when celebrities are involved," Houston explained. "Once the paparazzi has followed you home late at night they tend to get bored and assume that they aren't likely to get much before the next day. Especially when there hasn't been much gossip lately. So instead of ten or more camped out front, there might be one or two nearby or if we're lucky none. Vincent's been pretty good at keeping a low profile lately with his extended out of the country trip. Although with the next fight approaching I suspect we'll have to come up with a new plan. Luckily, our firm is known mostly for the security we provide versus the investigations we conduct, so my presence shouldn't send up any immediate red flags."
