Strip Poker: Bad Boys Club Romance #2

by Olivia Thorne

  “That makes two of us.”

  119

  I turned around in shock to see Vic stride into the boardroom.

  He looked hot as hell – and not just his handsome face or his striking physique. He was wearing a tailored suit with a black shirt open at the throat, no tie.

  I’d never seen him wear anything other than camo shorts and t-shirts. He looked absolutely stunning. Like a high-powered CEO, or a male model, or both.

  As I stared at him in wonder, he exchanged glances with me. I smiled at him tentatively – but there was only coldness in his gaze. No warmth, no humanity.

  That one look made my heart hurt even worse. I went from soaring hope to crashing despair in two seconds flat.

  Then he turned away and completely ignored me.

  “Well, well, the prodigal son returns,” Sal said sarcastically.

  “I’m not your son,” Vic said.

  “Thank God.”

  Frank jumped into the fray. “Now that you’re here, we need to let you know that we’re – ”

  Vic interrupted him. “No, I’m here to let you know I’m severing all ties between us, financial and otherwise.”

  “I wish you’d let us know that before we did the maintenance on your yacht last month.”

  “The yacht’s all yours. I’m never going back to it.”

  Sal’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Really.”

  “Really. I won’t be using the yacht, your private jet, or anything else you own. Not anymore.”

  “When did this come about?” Sal asked in surprise.

  “I took a good, long look at myself. And I decided something.”

  “What was that?”

  “I was tired of being your bitch.”

  On the word ‘bitch,’ Vic tossed an envelope down on the table in front of Sal.

  “What’s this?” Sal asked.

  “Legal notification that I’m suing your ass. Consider yourself served.”

  Sal looked stunned. “Suing us for what?”

  “A percentage of all the business deals and IPO’s I’ve been involved with while I was at this firm.”

  Sal laughed. “You can’t do that!”

  “Sure I can.”

  “Alright, let me put it another way: you can’t afford to do this. We have a fleet of lawyers at our disposal who will be more than happy to snow you under with counterclaims and paperwork. We will bankrupt you before the first hearing.”

  “Actually, I got my own law firm, and they’re working on contingency. They only get paid if they win – and they like to win. A lot.”

  “Who, some ambulance chasers out of Omaha?” Frank taunted.

  “No, actually, a new firm in Manhattan – Chase Withers and DeLongpre. Maybe you’ve heard of them. They were the ones representing Bradley Middleton before Dom swiped him out from under me – and them.”

  The looks on Sal and Frank’s faces were priceless.

  Siding with Domenico had apparently made them some enemies they didn’t know about. And now the butcher’s bill was due.

  Vic continued. “Yeah, they’re all young guys under 35 who want to party like rock stars, so they’re going to argue my case for free – unless they win. But as a retainer for their services, I’m going to provide my expertise and give them the Vic Cortelian Experience.”

  Sal looked like someone had asked him to pick up something off the floor of a Manhattan subway bathroom. “The ‘Vic Cortelian Experience’?”

  “Trademark,” Vic said. “Bitch.”

  “Is that a euphemism for dealing with venereal disease?” Frank jeered.

  “No, see, that’s what I’m doing right now,” Vic said as he pointed at the envelope with the legal notice. “Curing myself of Uncle Gonorrhea and Uncle Syphilis.”

  Sal scowled. “You really think your lawyers stand a chance?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll win anything or not, but I know I deserve a piece of the pie. And even if I don’t get it, it’ll be fun just to fuck with you. Hell, who knows – we might even find out who posted that video of me and Monica fighting in the desert.” Off of Sal’s shocked look, Vic said, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that: we’re suing you for defamation and intentional damage to my brand, too. That might be worth a couple hundred million in damages on its own.”

  Little Dick Vic.

  I’d forgotten all about that video. So much had happened since then…

  I looked at Vic in shock, then at his uncles –

  Sal’s face went blank as a statue’s. “We had nothing to do with that.”

  He was lying. Anybody could tell – he was too detached, too unemotional.

  I was absolutely floored. “How did you know?” I asked Vic.

  For the first time since he’d entered the room, Vic spoke to me. “You knew?!”

  “NO! But you sound really sure of it – and it’s obvious he’s lying,” I said as I pointed at Sal.

  Vic smirked, then turned back to his uncles. “Well, it’s either them or Domenico… and since they’re partners now, my legal team gets to rake through every computer server and hard drive they have in order to find out. By the way, they should be dropping by in about 30 minutes. Might want to order some new computers – yours are all going to be impounded for a while.”

  Sal’s face twitched, but he regained his composure enough to sneer, “I thought you said you were through with us.”

  “I said I was severing all ties between us. Doesn’t mean I’m done with you yet.”

  “So, what – you’re going to be a pimp, now?” Frank asked sarcastically.

  “No, not at all. I’m just helping young, single guys – usually on the nerdy side – get a taste of the highlife they could only dream of before. That’s what I’m going to do for my lawyers – and, in fact, for an ever-increasing roster of clients. I’m what you might called a hedonism lifestyle coach.”

  “So, a pimp,” Frank scoffed.

  “Actually, the only assholes in this room who took advantage of people and stole their money are all sitting down.”

  Of course, only Frank and Sal were sitting down.

  “We never stole your money,” Sal sneered.

  “You just made sure I never got it.”

  “You’re an ungrateful, vicious little wretch,” Sal seethed.

  “At least I’m not a cheap, greedy asshole like you.”

  “You’ll be hearing from our lawyers – and we will bury you.”

  Vic shrugged. “I’ll dig my way out. I always do.”

  “Leave before we call security.”

  “Oh, I’m going… but first I have something to say to your VP of Operations.”

  My heart skipped a beat when he said it – and not in a good way.

  Vic continued, “So I’d like a little privacy, if you don’t mind. I figure all the money I made for you bastards should buy me that much.’

  “Victor – ”

  “GET OUT,” Vic roared, violently enough to startle and frighten us all.

  “We’re calling security,” Sal said tremulously as he stood up and started for the door.

  “So do it and quit yapping about it,” Vic snarled.

  Frank lumbered across the room, and both he and Sal looked back in fear and impotent rage as they closed the door.

  Now Vic and I were alone.

  120

  My heart beat rapidly as I looked at him. I was nervous to hear what he had to say, yes – but I was so glad to see him, too. It was a strange mixture of apprehension and relief.

  “Hey,” I said, and attempted a smile.

  He just kept the same intense, not-quite-frown on his face. “Hello.”

  Okay, smiling wasn’t working.

  “Vic, I’m sorry about what happened in New York.”

  “You shouldn’t be. I wanted to thank you.”

  He didn’t sound very grateful, though.

  “For what?” I asked.

  “For inspiring me to get off my ass.”

  His tone o
f voice was closer to a boxer talking about a rival fighter years later – grudging respect for how his enemy pushed him to be better.

  Not exactly what I was hoping for.

  “I’m not sure how happy I am to have inspired you to be a ‘hedonism lifestyle coach,’” I said, with more than a dollop of sarcasm.

  “That’s only a very small part of it. The last couple of weeks, I’ve talked to everybody I know about actually moving forward on their plans. We’re going to do it. I’ve got Johnny Zhang’s gambling app, with all his casinos in Macao backing me up… T-Dawg’s vodka company… Anya’s clothing designs… I’ll be executive producing a slate of three films with Trevor Michaels… and I’ve got a lot more opportunities in the pipeline.”

  I frowned. “I don’t understand – what are you going to do for them?”

  “Provide massive brand advertisement to my 127 million followers, for a small piece of the pie. Which means I’m going to be part owner in over a dozen different companies.”

  I couldn’t help but notice the number.

  “127 million? What happened to ten billion?”

  He gave me a wry smile. “If I’m going to be a real businessman, I figured it was time to use real numbers. I paid a firm to track down how many actual humans were following me, and who liked me – no trolls or haters or robots – and that’s what they told me. 127.2 million, to be exact.”

  Okay, I had to admit: I was impressed.

  “You’re going to be part owner of a dozen different companies?”

  “Stock in all of them, and a position on the board on most.”

  “All for advertising?”

  “To 127 million followers who hang on my every word? Yeah.”

  “And you think it’ll work?”

  “I know it’ll work. Every single opportunity’s not going to be a homerun, obviously, but all I need are a bunch of singles and doubles to win. If I can raise $25 million for charity in one night by throwing a concert, I can do okay by my other clients.”

  “Well… I’m happy for you, then.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are you?”

  It was complicated. I was hurting, and I was sad that whatever we’d had was gone – that he was moving on.

  But he was definitely becoming the man I’d always wanted him to be: powerful. Self-directed. Take no shit and take no prisoners.

  “Yes,” I said. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.”

  He gave a bitter chuckle. “No you’re not.”

  “I am!”

  “You never believed in me.”

  Okay, that just made me mad. “Of course I did! I told you over and over that you had so much potential – ”

  “And that I was wasting it. That’s what you always focused on – that I was wasting it. That I was some kind of fuck-up who didn’t meet your approval.”

  I pointed at the boardroom door. “I just didn’t want to see you be those assholes’ puppet, is all!”

  “And yet you took money from those assholes to make sure I kept being their puppet.”

  Ouch.

  “I resigned two minutes before you walked in. Maybe you didn’t hear that part,” I said sarcastically.

  “Oh, I heard,” he said, and stepped closer to me. My heart beat faster just from his physical proximity. And his smell… he smelled so good…

  I had to bring myself back to the moment to catch his next words.

  “But I notice you didn’t deny the part about trying to keep me as their puppet.”

  “I didn’t know that’s what I was doing,” I protested.

  “Oh, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

  “NO – I was supposed to keep you under control, not – not – ”

  “Not what? Betray me?”

  OUCH.

  “…not betray you,” I agreed reluctantly.

  “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he said coldly. “You didn’t know me at the beginning. You would’ve done anything they asked just to keep me under their thumb.”

  The more he spoke, the angrier I got. “Well, I did get to know you – and I WON’T do ‘anything’ to keep you under their thumb. That’s why I quit.”

  “I wish you’d had your crisis of conscience a little earlier.”

  “What if I had? What would have changed? They still would have cut you out. They still would have partnered with Domenico.”

  “Yeah, but maybe you wouldn’t have gone to see him with your legs open.”

  When he said that, I lost control.

  And slapped him.

  HARD.

  Smack!

  I realized what I’d done as soon as it was over – and a second after that, I remembered the history we had with me slapping him.

  But rather than make any sexual remarks or take me in his arms, he just stood there looking at me contemptuously. “Did you slap him, too, before you fucked him?”

  “You ASSHOLE – I didn’t do anything with Domenico!”

  “No? Really? You fucked the last guy you were assigned to.”

  “That was YOUR idea!” I raged, pointing in his face. “YOU made the bet!”

  “True. But for me it was more than just a job promotion.”

  “Number one, that’s complete bullshit. In the beginning, all you wanted to do was get laid. And number two, it turned into a lot more for me.”

  He laughed derisively. “A lot more?! Really.”

  “You think it didn’t mean anything to me?”

  “I think you think we fucked a few times, had a couple of laughs… but then you had a paycheck to collect.”

  “You self-involved, pig-headed, narcissistic douchebag – if that’s what you think, you’re even stupider than I thought!”

  “Maybe you’re forgetting something, babe: I’m the one who proposed to you. And you’re the one who walked out on me.”

  I stiffened. The memory of what had happened in Times Square was like a sliver of glass stuck in my heart.

  “I’m not forgetting it,” I said quietly. “And I wish to God I hadn’t acted that way.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I – ”

  I couldn’t say the words. I was literally choking on them.

  So I said what I could instead.

  “…I care about you.”

  “Wowwww. Huh – you care about me,” he sneered. “See, I was in love with you – and I thought you were in love with me, too. Guess I was wrong.”

  “You weren’t,” I said angrily.

  “Really? Then whenever it was you stopped, I wished you’d told me.”

  “You stupid bastard – I never stopped being in love with you,” I shouted.

  He stood there, a stunned look on his face.

  I probably had an equally stunned look on mine.

  And then he stepped forward and just took me.

  Kissed me hard.

  One massive hand behind my head, another hand clutching my ass, pulling me against him –

  And I kissed him back just as hard.

  Feverishly. Deliriously.

  I can’t describe the relief. All the anxiety, and hurt, and fear, and missing him – all of that disappeared as soon as his lips crushed against mine.

  And all the sexual frustration of wanting him and not being able to have him came crashing down, like a pent-up dam exploding.

  He began tearing at my clothes.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I gasped, trying to fight him off.

  “I’m going to fuck you right here, right now,” he said as he kissed me hard again, then lifted me up and sat me on the boardroom table.

  I couldn’t say I wasn’t seriously turned on by it. It was like sex in public times ten.

  But that didn’t mean I was going to do it.

  “No – ”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not some little pawn in your revenge fantasy!”

  He took my face in one hand and stared me in the eyes. “Babe, I’m gonna fuck you tonight, and again, and tomor
row morning, and a hundred times after that – but I want you right now.”

  “But security’s coming!”

  He walked over to the door and flicked the lock.

  “That’s not going to stop them!” I protested. “They have a key to this room!”

  So he went around to the other side of the mahogany table – braced his hands against the edge – and pushed.

  The table was gigantic. It must have weighed several hundred pounds at least

  His muscles bulged under the fabric of his suit. Though it took him a few seconds to get it started, the table began to slide… one foot, two feet, three feet… and finally stopped right against the doors.

  There was no way anybody could get in unless Vic removed the table.

  He walked towards me, his eyes ravenous.

  “But your lawsuit – ” I protested.

  “Fuck the lawsuit. I want you. NOW.”

  When somebody you’ve wanted for so long, and were so heartbroken over, suddenly wants to fuck you – sometimes madness just takes over.

  Overtaken by my own desire, I scrambled to unbuckle his pants. He ripped my blouse again, all the buttons popping off just like the first time we had sex – but this time I didn’t even care. I just exulted in him squeezing my breasts and pushing my bra up so that he could tweak and pinch my nipples.

  I freed his cock – already stiff – and moaned as I took it in my hand.

  He yanked my underwear down, pulled it off my ankles, and threw it on the floor behind us.

  I opened my legs and lay down on the table, my whole body trembling with anticipation.

  With one hand he guided the head of his cock between my lips.

  But right at the moment of entering me, he paused.

  “God, I missed fucking you,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

  As I was about to say something, he slipped inside me.

  Holy God Almighty –

  I gasped in pleasure. “Oh God – oh Vic – ”

  He slowly began to rock inside me. I put my forearm over my mouth to stifle my cries.

  I was coming already – that electric thrill of doing something so wrong, so fucked up, so dirty –

  Suddenly the handle on the door rattled.

  My heart almost stopped in my chest.

  I looked over in terror – although there was no way anybody was getting inside the room. Not with the table wedged against the door.