by T. L Smith
“About time.” He holds it open for us and we step through.
We’re instantly hit with the smell of smoke and alcohol.
“Take this.” He hands me a bottle of beer, which I pass to Merci, and I keep on going until I see Brody. He’s at the back where a karaoke machine is located. I don’t recognize anyone else. I can tell he’s had a few to drink. Which, I might add, is illegal. Though, everything in this bar probably is, so no surprises there.
“Killing it, Brody,” Merci screams, throwing her fist up in the air. There are probably twenty people here, and all twenty seem to look back at the sound of her voice all at once. I cringe and step back, shaking my head, but Merci doesn’t care as she continues to move closer to him.
“Different attire.”
My back straightens at his voice, goosebumps tickle all over my skin, and I freeze.
7
Lucas
She’s hard to miss. Even dressed in jeans and a baggy white shirt, her hair back, and those hypnotizing eyes with those fuckable lips that I know would look good wrapped around my cock.
Her friend makes her way to her brother, and I step up behind her. I stand there for a few seconds just watching her, tasting the air that she consumes in the hopes I can taste her in it.
When I speak, I watch as her whole body locks up. She ignores me, keeping her back to me. So I step closer, my head lowering to her neck and taking in a deep breath.
“You are so fucking weird. Who goes around sniffing people?” she questions, turning her head and pinning me with those chocolate eyes, makes me want to bend her over and taste every inch of her starting with that smart-ass mouth. When I don’t answer her, she turns back around and looks at her brother. “Why did you do this for him?”
“I gave him new shoes too, but it seems you beat me to it.” This time when she turns to me, a different look passes over her face. “It wasn’t for sympathy or because I care. He looked like trash, and my employees are not allowed to look like trash.”
She blinks a few times, like she’s trying to understand all my words and put them into context, but then she says exactly what she wants to. “You’re a real ass.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I really don’t want him working for you. The last thing I need is to be identifying his body.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“My parents,” she confirms and looks away again. I hate when those eyes aren’t on me, assessing me, trying to figure out the ‘real’ me.
And what is this fascination I have for her?
Why do I want to bend her over right now and fuck her, but only after I taste her first?
“I would give my condolences, but I don’t really care,” I tell her.
Her next words surprise me. “Neither do I. And the last thing I would want from you is sympathy. Keep it and shove it.” She goes to step away from me, but I capture her hand. Her head whips back to see where we’re joined, then her gaze moves to my face, and I squeeze her fingers, pinning her with a stare.
“I’ll have you, you know that, right? And not by buying you either.”
Chanel pulls her hand away from mine. “If that’s what you think. The only way you’re getting this is by payment. And lucky for me, you can’t afford me no matter the price.” She turns and saunters off to where her friend and brother are currently seated.
“Sir.” I don’t bother turning to face Sergio. Sergio has been with me since I was a teenager, but he isn’t family. And trust me when I say, everyone hated that fact. It’s a family business, what we do. And even then, if they aren’t, it’s in a contract of a friend or a family member. We always make sure we have something over someone. And I do over Sergio, but I’ve never had to use it and don’t think I’ll ever have to. He’s too loyal.
“Boss is on his way. You want to clear things out?”
I look back to where she’s standing near the stage with her brother. When Keir comes, he likes to talk in private, not that he comes here all that often. But tonight I don’t want to kick her out, so I turn to Sergio. “No. Watch that one.” I nod to Chanel, then walk out the back where I know Keir’s car will arrive. Everyone who’s currently in the back scatters and leaves. I hold the door open as I watch his car come to a stop. It starts raining, but it doesn’t bother him. Joey gets out and walks over first, followed by Keir. Joey is Keir’s younger brother, and Keir’s our boss. He’s one of the only men I respect, and that’s saying a lot since I hate almost everyone.
“You’re open,” Joey says, obviously hearing the music. I nod and show them in. “What’s the occasion?” he asks, raising one brow.
I ignore him and look at Keir. “What brings you here?” I ask.
Joey heads out to the bar and then it’s just the two of us. I sit down at the round table, and he pulls out a seat and sits across from me.
“It seems Romarc’s men are angry.” He leans forward, hands on the table, fingers tapping on the surface. “Apparently, me killing him didn’t appease everyone.”
I huff.
Romarc was a supplier. He sold and distributed, then he thought, stupidly, that he could outwit Keir.
No one outwits Keir.
That ended with him dead.
But I like to think the real reason he ended up dead was that he took an interest in Keir’s wife, Sailor, who Keir just so happens to be obsessed with. He wasn’t meant to marry her. He had a contract signed by his father and another family that stated he was meant to marry Paige. But it turns out Paige is one hell of a crazy bitch, and by that stage, he was already in love with Sailor.
We all knew it wasn’t going to stand—the contract, that is.
It just took Keir a while longer to figure out how to get around it. Because he follows his rules, and he absolutely loves what he does. He is the most feared and untouchable man, and you would be stupid to cross him. His temper is short. Not as bad as mine, but he is more calculated.
“And you want me to do what?” I ask him.
His fingers tap again, and he looks me dead in the eyes. “Clean it up.” He stands, then walks to the door that leads to the bar, and I follow him. Joey’s at the bar and next to him is Chanel. I push past Keir and stalk over to her. She notices me first and sighs heavily as I approach.
“Nice talking to you.” She smiles at Joey, and I bristle at that. She then proceeds to give me the stink eye as her gaze falls to me, before she takes off.
“Why are you watching her like that?” Joey asks, eyes locked on me.
“Like what?” I ask, turning to face him.
“Like you plan to fuck her.”
I’ve thought about it, multiple times. Even right now, I want her. To bend her over to taste and smell that sweet-ass pussy. Her taste is going to be immaculate. And knowing me—because I clearly have an addictive personality—I’ll become hooked.
On her.
Which would be new.
When I fuck a woman, I’ll maybe go back for seconds, but rarely thirds. Then I either dispose of them or leave them, depending on who they are, of course.
It’s not that I have a thing about fucking the same woman once or twice. No, it’s more about…
… her smell changes.
And I can’t fucking stand it.
I once killed a man who was a doctor. He told me I had hyperosmia. It has to do with smell. A hyperosmiac is someone who has an overwhelming or heightened sense of smell. At the time he told me I should seek help, but to me, smell is everything.
I’m sure most cases of hyperosmia aren’t like mine.
I can only fuck someone if she smells right.
It doesn’t matter to me about weight, color, or appearance, it’s all about how they smell, and how they continue to smell.
And I am not fucking around when I tell you, Chanel smells like the best thing on this fucking earth.
So I have to take my time.
See if her smell changes.
See how I feel about that.
Because the last thing she needs is me addicted to her.
As things I get addicted to end up dead.
8
Chanel
“It’s time to go,” I say to Brody. He’s been drinking, which he shouldn’t have been. But I highly doubt the police are going to burst into this bar.
Only the stupid think about coming here.
Like me.
“But Lucas said I can drink as much as I want. And they say he’s never this nice.” I look over my shoulder to where he stands at the bar with Joey, and both of their gazes are locked on me.
The door that Lucas came out of opens and a man dressed in a suit strides out. When I look back to the two men at the bar, they’re talking, and the man in the suit eyes me, his brows scrunching as he studies me.
“We need to leave. Now. I know who that is,” Merci says, leaning in next to me. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” I reply while shaking my head.
Lucas has his back to me now and is talking to the man in the suit. I eye them separately, both without a doubt good-looking men, and both with dark hair. Lucas is younger, that is obvious, but even for his age, he holds power that almost matches the man standing next to him. Which says a lot, since everyone in this place is now looking everywhere but at him.
“Chanel.” The man, Joey, who I spoke to earlier, calls my name. He waves me over, and I hesitate, thinking this is wrong. This could be so very wrong. Merci gives me a small push on my back, and I manage to place one foot in front of the other as I make way over to them. All three sets of eyes lock on me.
“Chanel, this is Keir. He wanted to meet you.”
Keir’s gaze meets mine before it flicks to Lucas. Lucas’ hands slide into his pockets, and Keir watches his reaction before he looks back at me.
“Lucas tells me you’re in the service industry.” His voice is so deep. “Have you thought about leaving?” It feels like the club has gone silent and it’s just us four, the only other sound being my heart beating in my ears.
“Yes,” I answer, unsure of why he’s asking me this but knowing I should answer.
“My wife is after a sitter and an assistant.”
“Boss,” Lucas says. When I glance at him I see his jaw is locked tight.
Keir ignores him, focusing solely on me. He nods his head behind me, and I turn to find my brother drunk on the stage.
“That your brother?” he asks, and I nod. “You raised him?” I nod again. “Give Joey your info, he’ll be in touch.” Keir turns and stalks off, and Joey hands me a business card. I write my full name on it with shaky hands and look up at him. He offers no smile, just gives me a small nod before he follows Keir out of the bar. It would be stupid to say no to a job working for Keir, but also, I’m sure any job is better than my job.
“What have you done?” Lucas seethes. His hand reaches out, and he grips my arm, pulling me toward the back door. He shuts it behind us, pushes my back against it, and cages me in. “Do you know what you’ve done?”
I want to tell him I have no idea, but instead, I stay quiet and simply stare him. His eyes, which are now dark, seem to penetrate me. His hands are on either side of me, and his lip is turned up in a sneer as he locks eyes with me.
I should be more afraid of him.
Terrified even.
But I’m not.
“I eat women like you for breakfast,” he snarls in my face. I go to put my hands on his chest to push him away, but he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t touch me if I were you, unless you plan on me fucking you for free.” I gasp, then catch myself and roll my eyes. “Because I sure as shit do not pay for sex.”
“Like I’ve said, you couldn’t afford me anyway.”
He chuckles, and his gaze falls to my lips. “I could, and I will.”
“I’ll never fuck you.” My voice is low, but I’m afraid to raise it. Not because I’m afraid of him, but because he might be able to tell what his nearness is doing to me.
It’s…dare I say it? Turning me on.
And I hate that.
“Your smell changed.” Lucas steps back but keeps his hands on either side of me. I try to shake my head at him, but he moves forward, his face burying into the crook of my neck.
“Get off of me before I knee you where the sun don’t shine,” I growl. He chuckles again, ignoring me, and drags his nose down my neck until he reaches the swell of my breast, then his hand sneaks out and cups my sex. I gasp at the contact through my jeans.
“The dress gives better access.” He peers at me through his lashes, then pulls his hand away and brings it to his nose and sniffs. A slow but steady smirk plays on his lips. “You’re turned on.”
How the fuck does he know that?
“No, I’m not,” I argue back. He can’t know that.
“Should we find out?” His hand reaches for the waistband of my jeans and he yanks.
I push his hand away, launch off the door, and poke my finger in his face. “Stop smelling and touching me, you fucking creep.” I reach for the door handle, but he’s faster than me. He pushes me against the door again and cages me in once more. But this time his front is to my back, and I can feel his cock pressing against my ass.
“But you smell so fucking good.” He leans in and doesn’t ease up on the pressure I feel behind me. Then he takes another deep breath, and a shiver runs rampant all over my body.
“I’m sure this is classified as assault,” I mutter, barely controlling the shakiness of my breath, turning my head and trying to look at him.
“Even if you like it?”
This time he licks my ear.
Is he… tasting me?
“You have the wrong impression. Now I understand where you got that wrong. You think all these women like you, when in reality, we all despise you.”
Lucas pushes off me and I feel the cold hit my back. When I turn around to face him, he’s staring at me. His brows furrow as if he is trying to work me out.
“I’m always right when it comes to people,” he states.
Is he… defending himself against my words?
“No, I feel they let you believe you’re right out of fear.”
“You’re telling me you don’t fear me?” he asks, his head dropping slightly to the side as he quizzes me.
“I feel sorry for you,” I reply, standing tall.
This puts a smirk on his lips—not quite a smile, but something more sinister.
“Sugar, you don’t feel sorry for me. You want me. But you just don’t understand it. Probably because you’re so used to spreading those legs for every Tom, Dick, and Harry.”
“Sugar?” Distaste fills my mouth. “You don’t get the privilege of calling me a nickname.” I shake my head. “One…I am not fucking you. Two…you can’t pay me enough. And three…” I pull open the door, step out, and glance back, “… I fucking hate you.”
Walking straight out, I spot Merci and Brody at the bar. I grab both their arms on my way by and pull them toward the door. I look back and Brody starts to protest—until he sees the look on my face.
As soon as the night air hits us, so does the cold. I take a deep breath and hurry to the car, opening the passenger door for Brody. He pauses, looks over my shoulder, and I know who’s there before he says anything. Then, before I can utter a word or even turn around, something hits my head and everything goes black.
My head is sore. That’s the first thing I think when my eyes open a tiny crack. I know I didn’t drink much, so why does it hurt so badly? I go to lift my hands to touch my head, but I can’t. They’re stuck. My eyes spring open, and all I see is a white ceiling above me. Moving my head to the side, I’m in a bed, but it’s not just any bed, it’s the same one I used with my last client. My usual spot.
Why am I here?
“I see you’ve woken. Took you long enough.” There’s that voice, Lucas, and I know he’s right next to me, or maybe in front of me. I’m not sure which. I pull on
the restraints and shake my head.
“You’re holding me down with sex straps?” I shriek. Of course he is. I’ve used these a few times. They’re something that go under the bed so you can strap your partner down to do all the things they want you to do for them.
Lucas better not do a thing to me.
Or has he already?
I take a quick visual scan of my body. I’m still wearing the same clothes and I relax a little. Not much, though, because he’s sitting at the end of the bed watching me like a damn creeper.
“Where is Brody?” I demand.
The asshole ignores me and pulls out a gun, then he slides it up my leg until it reaches between my legs, and he stops. “Told him to go home and be a good boy.”
I doubt he would have listened to him.
“I also warned him if he did something stupid, I would kill you.” He pauses and looks up at me, the gun remaining between my legs, aimed at my cunt. “Do you think he will do something stupid?”
“Sir.” The door opens and a man appears.
I know him.
“Chase, help me.” Then it clicks with me what he said. He called him, sir. I’ve heard him on the phone before call someone sir, and he always stopped to answer those calls. I can feel Lucas’ eyes bore into me. When I turn to look at him, I confirm the fact that he’s angry. A snarl practically sits permanently on his lips.
“You know him?” Chase’s eyes are wide. “Have you fucked him?” Lucas asks.
I remain silent, which makes him angry.
Lucas keeps his eyes on me as he speaks to Chase. “Shut the door and step in.” I hear the click of the door and take a deep breath. “Now, tell me…have you fucked my little sugar here before?”
My head spins toward Chase, but the gun between my legs pushes a little harder in and it makes me stop. “You look at me, not him. Do you understand?”
“You have serious fucking issues,” I say, baiting him. I probably shouldn’t do that considering where I am, but I can’t help myself with him, and I’m not sure why.
