by HELEN HARDT
And she cried into my shoulder.
An hour later, I awoke to the most beautiful sight.
Riley had climbed on top of me and was sinking onto my hard cock.
And God, I was complete.
Complete in a way I hadn’t been the first time. This time Riley Wolfe was making love with me. Not Chloe Mansfield. Riley, with all her scars, and I loved every bit of her.
I loved her because she was Riley. Riley, who’d been through so much horror in her short life. Riley, who harmed herself to keep her emotions in check.
No more.
She slid down onto me fully and easily because she was so wet.
“You’re so big,” she said. “You’re burning me inside, but it’s a good burn.”
“God, yes. Good burn.”
And it was good. So damned good.
She rose and sank back on me.
Rose and sank again.
She fucked me.
And I fucked her.
I grabbed both her breasts and squeezed. Then I moved to her nipples and pinched them in alternative movements.
“Matt, it feels good. My nipples. Feels so good. Oh, God. I think…I think…”
She slid one hand over her belly to her clit and caressed it, closing her eyes…
“Matt, oh my God!”
And as she exploded, I did as well, closing my eyes to see the rainbow of colors shattering around me.
You’re beautiful.
Come for me.
That’s it, baby.
The words from my throat became part of the psychedelic mirage around me, circling me, cleansing me, fulfilling me.
I gripped her hips as my climax roared on.
We came together in a whirl of love and lust and passion, of giving and taking and just being.
Together.
We came together, and I knew, in that instant, that I’d found my forever.
We were both going to be okay.
We slept in each other’s arms again, this time without my blue balls. In the morning, I slid into her from behind, and it was slow and sweet.
She sighed into her pillow as I fucked her gently, and our mutual orgasm was soft and light, so different than the last, but no less implosive.
When the contractions in my cock finally stopped, I stayed embedded inside her for a few blissful moments. Then I flipped her onto her back and spread her legs.
“Don’t,” she said.
“It’s okay.”
“I’m embarrassed.”
“It will heal,” I said, “and you’re never going to do this again.”
“I won’t,” she promised. “Never again.”
“Good. Because this pussy is mine now, and I’m going to finally taste it.” I dived between her legs and—
A phone rang.
Not my ring.
Damn it all to hell.
“Sorry,” Riley said, easing away from me. “I should probably get that. It might be one of my brothers.”
“Mmm,” I nuzzled her neck. “Stay.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Then she was no longer touching me. A second later, the bed shifted with her weight leaving it. I closed my eyes. She’d be back soon, and I was going to go down on her. Eat that luscious pussy with relish.
So I waited.
When several minutes had passed, “Riley?”
She came back to the bed. “Sorry. It was Rock. They actually found a significant clue here in Las Vegas.”
“This early in the morning?”
She gave me a warm-hearted smack on the arm. “It’s hardly morning, Matt. It’s eleven thirty.”
I sat up in bed and drew in a deep breath. Sure enough, the sunlight was streaming in the window, and it wasn’t the dawn of a sunrise.
“Rock and Reid have been working since this morning, and someone contacted them.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet. We need to meet and get the scoop.”
“Okay. Go ahead. I’ll take a shower and be ready when you’re back.”
“Silly.” She punched me again. “You’re coming with me.”
“You sure your brothers are okay with that?”
“Rock and Roy are, and Reid can go fuck himself. Besides, you’re part of this now. I want you to be part of it, though I wouldn’t blame you if you ran away screaming.”
I grabbed her and gave her a deep kiss. “No way. You’re never getting rid of me.”
“Good.” She stood. “Now get up. I’ll meet you in the shower.”
That was all my dick needed. I was ready to go again.
I headed to the bathroom where Riley was already soaping up her hair. I stepped in with her, amazed at how large the shower actually was. Three shower heads pummeled us with warm water.
Her gaze dropped to my cock.
I grinned. “Ready for more?”
“Always.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and I lifted her, pinning her against the tiled wall and shoving my dick inside her heat once more.
She was still wet from my climax inside her, and I pumped, this time frantically, as if my life depended on it.
“Feels so good, Matt,” she breathed. “I’m going to come quickly. The friction… Oh my God!”
I felt each shudder of her pussy walls around my cock, and within seconds I joined her in the orgasm, releasing into her everything I had.
Every fucking thing.
Which wasn’t much. I didn’t have more than a couple thousand in the bank plus my two properties and my silver business.
That was it.
But it was hers. All of it.
Just like my heart.
She slid down the wall, limp in my arms, and we held each other as the water pelted us in warmth. Then we washed each other’s hair, which was more intimate than I’d ever imagined, and then rinsed and dried off.
“Ready?” Riley said, after dressing in skinny jeans and a crop top.
“Ready to take you to bed again.” My groin tightened. “You look hot.”
She kissed my lips. “So do you. I’ll take a rain check. Let’s go.”
Rock and Reid had booked a conference room at the hotel for the days we were here, and they ordered in a catered lunch.
Once we were done eating, Rock started talking. “I got a phone call this morning from one of our PIs. He found a woman named Zinnia.”
“Where is she?” Roy asked.
“Believe it or not, she’s right here in Vegas,” Reid replied. “She’s a showgirl.”
Both Lacey and Charlie lifted their eyebrows.
“A showgirl?” Riley said.
“Yeah, and all the stats add up. Our guy contacted her, and she’s willing to talk to us.”
“Great,” Roy said. “Let’s talk, then.”
“One problem,” Rock said.
“Does she want money?” Lacey asked.
“That was my first thought too,” Reid said, “but the PI says no. She just wants anonymity. She’ll help us if she can, but she won’t talk to any authorities.”
“What good does that do us, then?” Roy said.
“She may not know anything,” Rock said, “but the fact that she’s asking for anonymity rather than money makes me think she may be the person we’re looking for.”
“I agree,” Lacey said. “Who will she talk to?”
“Only one of us,” Reid said, “and she prefers that it be a woman.”
“But I should go,” Roy said. “I might recognize her.”
“Agreed,” Reid said. “That’s what we told the PI. He’s checking with her and we’re waiting to hear back.”
“So nothing until then?” Roy asked.
“Nothing for you. Rock and I have work to do.” Reid shifted in his seat.
He seemed uncomfortable. Riley had told me the whole story of Rock being put in charge instead of him. Was that what this was about? Or was something else going on?
Rock’s phone buzzed. “Rock Wolfe here,” he said.
/>
Pause.
“I think Lacey would be—”
Pause.
“Gotcha. Understood. Tell her thanks.”
Pause while he scribbled some notes.
“Perfect. They’ll be there.” He ended the call. “That was Roark, the PI who found Zinnia. She’s agreed to talk to you, Roy, as long as Riley goes with you.”
Riley nearly jumped out of her chair. “Me? Why me?”
“She wants a woman there.”
“Then Lacey is the logical choice,” Riley said. “She’ll know what questions to ask.”
“That’s what I told him, but it turns out she’s a fan of yours, and she wants to talk to you.”
“But I won’t know what to say to her!”
“Won’t you?” Lacey smiled. “You’ll know better than anyone. If she’s the person we’re looking for, then she’s been through something as traumatic as you have. I think she chose well.”
“But I won’t know what to say to her,” Riley repeated, more softly this time.
“I’ll give you a list of things to ask her, like I did for Roy and Charlie when they went to Montana to talk to Leta Romero. You’ll do fine.”
“I’ll be there with you, Sis,” Roy said. “You got this.”
Riley reached for my hand and squeezed it. “I’ll do what I have to do.”
43
Riley
I sat with Roy at a bar in a lesser known hotel off the strip. Still, crowds milled around, and I nearly choked from the cigarette smoke. The bells from the slot machines and the din of conversation swirled around us.
We waited.
Roy had ordered us a couple of sodas. It was three in the afternoon, and neither of us felt up to drinking. Better to keep our heads, though I had to admit a glass of wine would have helped take the edge off.
But maybe I needed my edge. I needed to remember what my father was capable of so I could handle this woman with kid gloves. God only knew what she’d been through. I had the feeling Roy hadn’t seen the worst of it that night.
Roy stared at his phone. “She’s late.”
“Have you considered that she might not show at all?”
“Yeah, I’ve considered it. If I were her, I probably wouldn’t either.”
I nodded. “We have to be strong for her, Roy.”
“I know. I’m okay. That therapy helped a lot. My mind hasn’t been this clear in ages, Ry. It’s like a giant weight is gone from me.”
I sighed. I envied my brother. I feared I’d carry the weight of my father’s sins forever, even with therapy. After all, Roy didn’t have to get over what was done to him, just what he’d seen.
Big difference there.
Still, I was getting stronger. Matt helped, and I helped myself too. I’d never burn myself again. I knew that as well as I knew my own name.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Then twenty, and we sat silently, sipping our second round of diet soda.
“Ready for something stronger?” Roy finally asked.
I got ready to nod, when a woman caught my eye. Her hair was jet black and pulled into a tight ponytail high on her head. She wore dark glasses, and she just looked…
She looked the way I felt.
I gestured to Roy. “I think that’s her.”
“Really? Then it’s not the woman I remember. She was blond.”
“There’s such a thing as hair color,” I said. “Does that look like natural black to you?”
“Actually, no,” he said. “It’s too black. Almost blue-black.”
“Exactly.” I smiled in her direction. If she was a fan of mine, she’d recognize me, unless this wasn’t her at all.
But it was. She inched toward us hesitantly. I patted the seat at the bar next to me.
She shook her head slightly and then sat down at a table in the corner.
Okay, I got it. She didn’t want to talk at the bar, where someone might overhear us. “Come on,” I said to Roy.
“You sure?”
I nodded. “That’s a woman who has something to hide.” I walked to the table, Roy following me.
I sat down. “Zinnia?”
She nodded hesitantly.
I stuck out my hand. “I’m Riley Wolfe, and this is my brother Roy.”
Her hand was limp in mine, and she didn’t take Roy’s at all.
“What can we do to help you feel more at ease?” I asked. “Would you like a drink?”
She shook her head. “I’m… I’m a fan of yours.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“I actually did some modeling when I was young, before you came on the scene. I just… You know. Your father…”
“I’m not my father,” I said, “and neither is Roy.”
“I get that. I always wanted to reach out to you on social media or even email, but I couldn’t.”
“We’re here now,” Roy said. “What would you like to say to Riley?”
“Just how much I admire you. Your beauty and your grace.”
“Thank you very much.” I smiled. “How old are you, Zinnia?”
“I’m twenty-nine. And no one calls me anymore. It’s not my legal name anymore. I go by Zee.”
Twenty-nine. The right age. “The letter Z?” I asked.
“No. Z-e-e.”
“All right, Zee,” I said. “I’d be happy to talk to you about modeling, but right now I don’t have the luxury of time. Roy and I need to ask you some questions about our late father.”
“Could you take off your sunglasses?” Roy asked.
“No, I can’t.”
“Surely you can’t wear them when you do your shows,” he said.
“No, I don’t. But I’m heavily made up and it doesn’t matter.”
“What show are you in?” I asked.
“Right now I’m doing Best of Sin City.”
Best of Sin City. Most likely a topless show, which meant—
“She’s obviously not the person I saw,” Roy said. “She’s not blond, and she’d have…”
Zee met his gaze. “Scars? I have them. And I remember you.”
“But how…?” I began.
“Makeup. You’d be amazed what our makeup team can do. Some of the girls I work with have to cover up worse. Lots of bruising and scarring.”
My stomach dropped. “You mean…”
“I mean their men beat the shit out of them. Yeah.”
“And you?”
“No. No one beats the shit out of me. I’ll never be in that situation again.”
I smiled, reached forward, and touched her forearm. “Good for you.”
“It’s a lonely life, but I deal.” Then she met Roy’s gaze once more. “I never thanked you.”
“For what?”
“For saving me. I never would have gotten out of there alive.”
“I wish I could have done more,” he said.
“There were others,” she said. “I saw them…”
“What did you see?” Roy asked.
“Several girls were in cages. They must have been sedated.”
Nausea clawed up my throat. I swallowed it down as best I could. “Roy, I don’t think I can hear this.”
“You can go,” he said. “I’ll get the information.”
I breathed in. Out. In again. “No. I’m staying. I want to be here for you, Zee.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”
“How many men were hunting you?” Roy asked.
“I don’t know. It seemed like dozens, but I was so scared.”
“You signed a document,” I said. “About six years ago.”
“Yeah. I was broke. I’d just gotten out of rehab, and I needed money to start over. It took every ounce of strength I had to go to your father. I had to show him…” She choked back a sob. “I had to show him the scars. Tell him I could name him and the one other guy. The priest. He… He paid me off. I should have asked for more than I got, but…I just wanted to erase that part of my life.”
“I’m a good dancer—I took ballet and jazz all through childhood—and I needed a place where I’d blend in. Where no one would ever think to look. I changed my name from Zinnia Rehnquist to Zara Jones. That way I could still go by my nickname, Zee.”
“Wouldn’t it have made more sense to go by a totally different name?” Roy asked.
“Roy…” I began.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “He’s right, and I considered it, but I needed something that was mine, you know?”
I nodded. I understood more than she knew. Her past might be horrific, but it was still her past. I felt the same about my own, in the same warped way.
“No one gives showgirls a second look,” she said, “unless you’re a big name. I’m not, and I made sure I never would be.”
“But you said you wanted to be a model,” I said.
“Not really. It was my mom’s thing, and I’m too old now. Thing is, even if I wanted it, I couldn’t take that path. Even lesser models have their photos everywhere. I couldn’t risk it.”
I shook my head and turned to Roy. “Our father cost her a lot.”
“He cost us all a lot,” Roy said. “I’m so sorry, Zee.”
“I didn’t come here for your pity,” she said. “But when Mr. Roark told me all of you were suspects in his murder, I knew I had to say something.”
“Yet you say you won’t talk to the police.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. Please don’t ask me to.”
“You understand,” I said, “that if you don’t talk to the police, you can’t actually help us.”
She nodded. “But you have to also understand. I can’t talk to the police because I have a bigger motive than any of you.”
“Actually, you don’t,” Roy said. “We all have huge motives. All that really matters is whether you have an alibi, which you probably do. Our father was killed in New York around one a.m. Pacific Time. You were probably performing.”
She shook her head. “Except I wasn’t. Our show was dark the night of the murder.”
“Fuck.” Roy raked his finger through his long hair.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Where were you that night?” I asked. “Maybe you have an alibi anyway.”
“Home. In bed.”
“Do you have any roommates?”
