“There is no information available to the public. Our membership is exclusive. But, really, this is just a place where people come to mingle after a long day.”
She stared at him. “Okay, what about over there?” She pointed at the booths along the back wall where people were still engaged in various intimate scenes—clutched in embrace, touching, kissing, whispering. Brett had referred to the guests as mingling. They were indeed doing that.
Brett chuckled. “Jealous?” he asked with a smirk, looking right into her, digging his fingers into her ass. “All right. Those are people who are taking advantage of the secrecy and discretion that we offer. People feel safe here, and they can do anything they like without it being leaked to the gossip rags. We also have some suites upstairs, if people feel so inclined to use them and if they want a little privacy...for any purpose. The rooms, along with membership fees, are expensive. But we have concierges who take care of what people need, and whether the rooms are used for sex or for someone to crash in after drinking too much, we don’t care about what goes on in them. As long as whatever happens is between consenting adults, it isn’t our concern.”
“So this is a sex club?”
“No, it’s not a sex club. It’s a social club, for people who like to indulge in more erotic pursuits.” His voice was firm and flat. He was obviously getting impatient with her questions. He pointed to the area she’d assumed was a dance floor. “But we also provide entertainment. There are erotic stage shows that happen over there every night. We bring in professionals, and they do things like bondage demos, fire play, sultry dancing, erotic gymnasts... And there are some other benefits to membership.”
“Like what?”
He hesitated. “That’s privy only to members. For people who want a little more of a public experience.”
“You don’t trust me to tell me what that is?”
“Not really. No.” He winked at her. She saw the playful glint in his eyes that she remembered.
It was her turn to laugh, and she pushed her hips against him, pressing against the hard length behind his zipper. Then he flinched. The movement was so small she almost missed it, and he covered it quickly.
“Well, if you insist,” he relented, his words more of a breath. “But you have to promise to never tell anyone.”
“What if I did?”
“Then the punishment will be severe,” he warned her, but the corner of his mouth ticked up playfully. “There are exhibition rooms set up downstairs, for a more complete, immersive experience. And for those who like to watch and be watched.”
Rebecca saw the heat and mischief in his eyes, and she was more than interested in what went on down there, but as she felt a familiar desirous flush come over her once again, she shook herself free of it. She almost asked to go see it. But no. She had to keep her wits about her. She was there to talk business, not sex. Right? As they stood in the middle of the club, his hands on her ass, she wasn’t so sure. “Maybe we should just talk business,” she offered, taking another look around the club, knowing that nothing would get done as long as they stood in the middle of a three-ring circus of erotica. “Why don’t we go to your office now?”
* * *
The BH, which The Brotherhood had built, was a prominent fixture of the Las Vegas skyline that housed Di Terrestres, but it was also the base of operations for all The Brotherhood’s enterprises. Brett, Alex, Rafael, Gabe and Alana all kept offices and private suites in the building, for the nights they worked so late that it only made sense to stay instead of going home.
Brett walked Rebecca to the private elevator that was for their own use only, and using a special key card, he called it to the club’s foyer on the ground floor. They had to wait only a few moments before the doors in front of them parted. Brett gestured for Rebecca to go before him. The doors closed and her scent filled the elevator, and during their silent ride to the top floor, he inhaled it—light and citrusy. Brett’s gaze trailed over her as she stepped into the hallway. His eyes traveled over her body and he imagined watching her apply her perfume to her pulse points—the insides of her wrists, behind her earlobes and, as his eyes dipped to the low-cut V of her blouse, between her breasts.
Rebecca cleared her throat, and his eyes snapped up to meet hers. Her arched eyebrow told him that she’d caught him staring. He shrugged in response, not one bit sorry. Despite what he had in store for her, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he was thrilled that she’d shown up at his club tonight. They might be business rivals, former lovers, current enemies, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t picture her naked. That was one of his privileges as her ex.
He walked out of the elevator and cupped his fingers around her elbow. She shot a glare at him at the intimate contact and pulled away. He smirked and they continued their silent walk to his office, their footsteps the only noise echoing off the walls of the empty hallway. He escorted her all the way down to the farthest door, and using his thumbprint on a scanner, he unlocked it, then opened it with a click.
Brett held the door open for her and followed Rebecca inside his office, closing it behind them. His office was silent, away from the noise of the club and the revelry of the Las Vegas Strip just a few miles away, and that was just the way he liked it. He spent most of his time in the well-appointed office, and he was glad he’d gone for luxury and comfort when he’d designed it.
Leaning against the wall by the door, folding his arms across his chest, he watched Rebecca as she navigated his space. She looked around at the photographs of his friends and parents on the shelves, the awards and accolades he’d received from the business community. He’d never brought a woman all the way up to his office before, outside of business hours, for any purpose other than work. That didn’t mean he didn’t use Di Terrestres for its intended purpose. If he met someone downstairs at the club and the chemistry was right, he had no problem taking one of the available private rooms or going to a nearby hotel. But his office, and the bedroom suite it contained, was strictly his domain. His territory. And now there was Rebecca, a blast from his past, sexy, stunning Rebecca in front of him, surveying one of his most private areas. He knew he was crossing a line for himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now.
“This is your office, huh?”
He nodded slowly. “It is.”
“It’s big. Bigger than mine.”
It was big, probably bigger than he needed, but he liked it; it impressed his partners and collaborators and it intimidated his competitors. This space, along with his cars, his home, his tailor-made suits and five-hundred-dollar haircut, all combined to portray the image he needed to present. He’d worked hard to create the glossy exterior he showed to the world—it was a reminder to him of his past, of how far he’d come since taking control of his life as a teen addict, and of how differently his life could’ve gone if he hadn’t.
Business was partially about the show, the spectacle. But he couldn’t read Rebecca’s opinion as he watched her walk over to the kitchenette area, between the wet bar he kept stocked for guests and the espresso machine that was necessary to get him through every day. Despite his refusal to indulge in drugs and alcohol in the past twelve years, he had to admit that he still had his vices, and caffeine wasn’t the only one. His other vice was standing next to the small fridge across the room. “You know, as CEO, you can change that,” he told her.
She turned to face him and crossed her arms, as well. Her stance was defiant, but the smirk on her face was playful. “I’m not like you. I’m not preoccupied with size. I don’t need a bigger office to intimidate anyone.”
“Oh, really? And what are your intimidation tactics?”
“My superior intellect. And confidence. You should know I don’t take crap from anybody.”
He knew that. Oh, boy, did he know that.
“What’s through there?” she asked, pointing at the closed door in front of h
er.
He walked over to where she stood, stepping up close to her, so close that her breasts skimmed his chest. He didn’t respond to her question for a moment, and feeling her so close almost made him forget the question. He looked down at her, resting his palms on her shoulders, and then he dragged them down her bare arms. Her skin was like the smoothest silk under his touch. “Through there is a bedroom.”
Her mouth opened, a perfect surprised O. He could tell the depth of the breath she took when her breasts pushed into his chest. “You sleep in your office?”
“It’s just a simple bedroom. And sometimes, if I’m working late, it makes more sense to stay here than to drive home in the middle of the night, just to come back early the next morning.” His hands reached her wrists, and then he grasped her hips. “Do you want to see it?”
She rolled her eyes and stepped away from him. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Is this your normal MO?” she asked, taking a step back and quirking a brow. “Meeting women at your club and bringing them back up to your fancy office-slash-bedroom?”
Considering the moment over, Brett also took a step back. “I’ve never brought another woman to my office for something that wasn’t work related. And this is a work-related meeting apparently. So what did you want to talk about?”
“How about hostile takeovers, to start?”
“Okay, what about them?”
“Don’t play stupid. It’s not a good look for you.”
“All right.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Then start talking.”
“I want to know why you’re doing it.”
He shrugged. They’d moved seamlessly from a conversation tinged with innuendo to one about work. “We talked about this. It’s a good business move,” he explained simply. “It’s not personal, Rebecca. DI has been our competition in this town for years now. Collins/Fischer is setting itself up to be the biggest real estate development firm in Las Vegas. That means you need to go.”
“So you already said. I understand why you’re doing it professionally, especially if it’s retribution for poaching your executive. But let me tell you, he came to me. I don’t run my business with retribution in mind. I’m not interested in games. I’m just questioning the timing of all this.”
“You’re being paranoid.” He waved a dismissive hand.
“I don’t think so. Sure, we had some back-and-forth. But the takeover bid shows up on my desk on Monday. Meanwhile your fingers were inside me on Saturday, which was the first time we’ve actually interacted in person in years. So what’s that? Are you trying to tell me that it’s all a coincidence?”
“Maybe I was looking for a new project and seeing you again inspired me.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I’m a businessman.”
“Brett, we go way back. We haven’t always been exactly nice to each other. In fact, we hated each other, and the only thing we had in common was raw attraction and mutual orgasms. But if this is some sort of game you’re playing because we used to sleep together, I thought you had more integrity than that.”
“Believe it or not, Rebecca, I didn’t spend those years pining for you, wishing to get balls deep in your sweet pussy again, okay? Nor did I spend it thinking about you at all.” His lips clamped together stubbornly, before he revealed that it was a lie. He had thought about her. Maybe they hadn’t been friends, maybe they hadn’t even liked each other at all, but there was something about Rebecca Daniels that had always drawn him in. She was the one who came to him when he was alone in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep. Hers was the face he pictured as he pushed his hand under the blankets and fisted himself to get some relief. She was one of the first people he’d ever told about his high school addiction after starting college. One late night in the darkened business library after they’d hooked up again. He’d never been so open before, and that alone made her stand out, threw him in a way he wasn’t used to, even back then.
She huffed out a frustrated breath next to him. He was close enough to feel the warm air on his face. “You know I’m never going to let you take over my father’s company, my company, right?”
“You can try to stop me, but you’ve seen the price we’re offering your shareholders. I know that DI has been underperforming in the past couple of years. Do you think you can beat it? Think you can hold on to your shareholders?”
She visibly straightened. He knew that she couldn’t. “I’ll find a way.”
“And I don’t have a definitive number, but I know that our offer has already been accepted by several of your shareholders. Did you know that?” He took a step closer to her. “It’s not too late, you know. You could just sign over your shares to me now. The premium we’re offering above market price is a fair one.”
“You think I’m just going to sign over my ownership of Daniels International? I knew you were arrogant, but to think that I would just turn my back on my family name... This is something else.”
“So why are you here?” he asked her, his chest growing tighter. With anger? Frustration? Desire? He had no idea. “Why did you come here tonight?”
“To ask you—because of, or in spite of, everything between us—to stop what you’re doing. Reconsider.”
“If you think I’m going to do that, you don’t know much about me at all.”
“I guess I never did know you.” She laughed. A small sad sound that almost made him wrap his arms around her. “I know we were never all that close, just two distant enemies who found common ground in sex, but there were moments when I really thought that we had a connection. And on Saturday night, out on the terrace...” She shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought there might still be that small something there between us. I guess I was wrong.”
Brett looked away from her. For a brief moment, a regret for the sadness he’d put on her beautiful face crept through him. But he tamped it down. She was playing him, using their past against him, and feelings had no place in business. “There was something,” he said matter-of-factly. “I made you come,” he said. He reached for his belt buckle, not wanting to think too much about the way his dick hardened in his pants. “So what? You want another go? I’d be down for that. I’ve got some time to kill.”
“Fuck you,” she bit out. “You know, I thought you could be reasonable. Maybe not destroy a company my father worked his ass off to build, just to—I don’t know—to beat me.”
She stalked past him, and before he could stop himself, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “Wait!”
“Let go of me,” she said as she whipped around and slapped her hand to his cheek. As her open palm met the side of his face, the sound cracked through his office and they both stood still, looking at each other. The anger in her eyes mirrored that in his, and their chests heaved in tandem with heavy heated breaths.
He could still feel the sting of the slap, but he held her wrist and yanked her to him. She came easily, and with not even a hairbreadth between them, her breasts were pressed tightly against him again.
“What do you want?” she asked him. Her tone was wary, but her eyes were alive and danced with fire.
The fight between the conflicting emotions within him died out as desire came out victorious. There was nothing else he could do but give in to it. “Right now?” he breathed after several beats of silence. “I want you.”
* * *
Rebecca was acutely aware of the rise and fall of her breasts with every heavy breath she took. His declaration had caused her heart to stutter in her chest. “And I guess you still always get what you want?” she managed to croak as her chest compressed.
He didn’t hesitate. He looked down at her, and she met his gaze head-on. “Always.”
Brett’s mouth crashed into Rebecca’s, and despite her hesitance at first, she quickly yielded to him, almost melting in his arms, falling against h
is body, as his arms tightened around her waist.
He kissed her and, taking her bottom lip between his own, he nibbled lightly. She gasped, and when her lips parted, his tongue took great advantage and plundered inside. He searched her mouth, and he tasted as potent as he ever had. Their teeth mashed, tongues met, twisting and dueling, mouths stealing each other’s air until Brett had to pull away. He dragged his lips across her smooth jaw and down her throat, nibbling her skin lightly, biting, licking, before he took her lips again.
Rebecca was gone. Business was the last thing on her mind. His lips broke away from her mouth and attacked her exposed throat again with the same vigor. “Fuck,” he whispered in her ear. “You still taste so goddamn good. If your mouth tastes this sweet, I wonder if your pussy still tastes as good.”
His voice made her tremble, and he held her tighter. Memories flashed through her mind. Pictures of them together half a decade ago. His lifting her, pressing her against the wrought iron fence bordering the academic quad. A cool nighttime breeze rushing over her, rustling the leaves on the tree they’d hid under, his palm over her mouth to stop her from screaming in pleasure while he’d entered her.
He palmed her breasts and walked them until they bumped the counter of his small kitchenette. Brett’s hands smoothed down her sides and reached around to grab her ass. He squeezed her, kneading her through her skirt, rough, demanding. He grasped her waist and lifted her onto the marble countertop between the sink and the espresso machine.
With a hand on each of her knees, he pushed her legs apart and stepped between her spread thighs. His fingers crawled up her bare thighs until they hit lace. She was wet, and she knew it pleased him. He smiled and stroked her. Moaning, Rebecca arched her body into him and, using two hands, he ripped the slight piece of lace from her body. He let the wasted fabric fall to the floor.
Boardroom Sins Page 5
