by Dee Garcia
“That’s not how this works,” Ramsey laughed.
“Of course you’d see it that way,” Suki called out over her shoulder as she reached over the island to grab the wine bottle.
“The hopeless romantic in me is squealing,” Ramsey sighed, holding a hand to her chest, “but that’s not what this is about. She can’t just shut him out, Suk. The more they see each other, the more it’s going to fester and spread, the more it’ll evolve. They’re not going to be able to fight it forever.”
I scoffed indignantly. “I will fight it forever, forever and a day if I have to. I’m not letting my body call the shots.”
“Who said it’s only your body?” Ramsey grinned, a knowing look glazing over her features as my face paled.
Hearing her those words—words that were more probable than I cared to entertain—ran my blood ice old. I couldn’t even respond, gaping at her in horror. I almost spilled my wine in the process.
Was she right?
Were they both right?
Was this more than just a physical attraction?
♫ I Can’t Stop - Flux Pavilion ♫
“I’m gonna come!” Lux screams, her back arching off the bed as my lips clamp down on her clit.
I pump my fingers in and out of her cunt only twice more before her thighs lock my head between their grasp, her hands roughly fisting my hair. The moans that erupt from deep in her throat completely undo me, unleashing the beast within.
On a growl, I tear myself away from her and plant my feet on the floor, breaths ragged, cock aching.
I need her so badly it hurts.
My hands clasp her ankles and yank her shivering form to the edge of the bed. She gazes up at me as the last of her climax rolls through her, and the look I see in her eyes says it all…
Fuck me.
Own me.
Possess me.
I’m over her before either of us can say another word, sliding into her effortlessly with an urgency I’ve not ever felt before.
“Fuuuck,” I hiss, losing all sense of sobriety as her heat envelopes me, sucking me in deeper.
I’m in so deep, I can feel the very end of her entrance straining to keep me from pushing in any further.
“So greedy,” I coo in her ear, hitching one of her legs around my waist.
Lux nods shamelessly. “So good, it’s so good,” she breathes, clawing at my back, her nails breaking skin as I increase the pace.
She’s not wrong. Good is only putting it lightly. This right here is sublime, the only damned sliver of Heaven I’ll ever get to experience.
And I don’t want it to stop…
“Right, Rome?” Vic’s voice suddenly cut through another explicit daze.
Another vividly real, cock-jolting daze I couldn’t seem to escape these days. The semi barely contained by my tuxedo pants was proof. Thankfully, neither one of the men standing before me—or anyone else for that matter—seemed to notice.
Vic placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Roman…you good?”
I nodded and tamped down the ridiculous amount of desire swimming through my veins. “Yeah, apologies, man. Just remembering a few things that need to get done before the weekend is over. What were you saying?”
He eyed me keenly but didn’t seem inclined to press me on the matter.
Yet.
I’m sure he’d be up my ass about it later.
“I was telling Ryzhkov here that Lux hasn’t been very easy to wear down.”
Of course he had to bring her up.
I glanced over at the older Russian man who was watching me like a hawk. According to Vic, he was Pahkan of the Ryzhkov Brotherhood from Chicago, which left me wondering what the hell he was doing here in Miami. Couldn’t be solely for this so-called charity gala, that’s for sure…
“She hasn’t been, no,” I agreed, snatching another champagne glass from one of the waiters passing through with a giant sterling silver tray. “But we’re getting there.”
“It’s about time,” Vic grumbled, taking a sip from his flute.
Ryzhkov chuckled darkly and shook his head. “You can’t rush such things, Victor. Not if you want them done right. Give the man some credit and have a little patience,” he advised, his Russian accent thick as molasses.
“Thank you.” I smiled.
The satisfied gesture seemed to deepen Vic’s scowl, and on the inside I was damn satisfied about that, too.
“I realize that, but we’re falling behind. She’s a stubborn broad with tactics of her own. Not to mention Roman’s last travesty set her off like a bomb,” Vic explained.
Ryzhkov seemed very intrigued, his blue eyed gaze bouncing between us both. “I see. Well, there’s always a way, and if she becomes too difficult, then simply eliminate her completely. Problem solved,” he countered, offering a shrug when Vic’s expression paled.
“I don’t want to kill her. I just want what’s mine.”
“Then you don’t want it bad enough. If she’s such threat, you’d be willing to do anything to rid yourself of her presence. And since that’s obviously not the case, I suggest you start taking rather than asking.”
“How?” Vic asked, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.
Ryzhkov laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Women are easy to subdue, Victor, far easier than you think. You just have to figure out how they like it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone here I must introduce myself to.”
And just like that, the man was gone without a glance back, leaving Vic and I alone amongst the masses.
“That’s not part of your plan, correct?” he questioned after a beat, staring out at the sea of elegantly dressed people.
I mulled it over for a moment.
If Ryzhkov’s suggestion took him aback so blatantly, I was curious to see what his reaction would be if I agreed.
“If it comes down to that, yes,” I lied, sipping my champagne.
He tensed beside me, but continued watching the crowd as if I hadn’t struck a nerve. “We’re not going that route, so go ahead and cross that off the list.”
Interesting.
“I thought you agreed to stop bitching and let me—”
“The answer is no, Rome,” he growled. “End of discussion.”
“So touchy,” I chuckled, mentally shaking my head at his stupidity. “My bad, mate.”
“I just don’t see it being necessary, that’s all.” His tone was clipped, like he was just realizing he’d given himself away, yet again. “Oh, I forgot to mention earlier. Your house is finally ready.”
I almost laughed and pointed out the abrupt subject change to further my point, but considering the news he’d just thrown my way, I decided to humor him. After all, I’d been at the Colony for weeks while the house was being remodeled, and it was bloody-fucking-torture at this point.
“Fucks sake, about time,” I replied.
“Just in time, actually. You heard about the hurricane right?”
What?
“No, what hurricane?”
“Hurricane Glenn. He’s a Cat 5, supposed to hit us as a Cat 4 on Wednesday.”
Again, what? I was genuinely confused.
“Okay, you lost me,” I admitted. “What does that have to do with my house?”
Vic plucked the drained glass from my hand and set it on a tray of empties as another waitress strolled by. “Hurricane party, brother, that’s what.”
“Still lost. What the hell is a hurricane party?”
“A party during a hurricane?” he said, though it sounded more like a question.
“Seriously? That’s a thing?”
“It’s almost a tradition, really.”
“And you just volunteered my new home for the occasion?” I snapped, turning my head toward him.
“Well,” he grinned, “I would hope you don’t mind. You’ve got the most space, after all. Just consider it a house warming party.”
He couldn’t be serious.
“What’s in it
for me?” I asked as steady as possible, tipping my head graciously at an older couple scouting around us.
“Pussy, lots of it, and good company. You don’t want to ride out a storm this large alone. Truuust me,” he drawled.
Was that supposed to make it better?
I enjoyed my space, enjoyed it quite a bit, and I wasn’t afraid to pass some storm in my own company.
“C’mon, Rome,” he cajoled knowingly. “You got the guest house and all. You have my word we won’t overdo it on the body count. Don’t forget, the power will go out eventually. With a storm this big, that’s a given. It’ll get quiet and you’ll have your space.”
He had a point. Unfortunately.
Despite not ever having a experienced a hurricane, I knew power loss was a probability. Sometimes it lasted hours, other times days. Depended on how bad the storm was and how quickly the power company could stitch things up. Having people around would make the blackout period less excruciating, I suppose.
“I guess we’re having a party then,” I sighed, resigned.
There was no use arguing him, honestly. He’d gone and organized it without my knowledge. What’s done is done.
A pleased grin spread across his face at my concession. “There’s my boy,” he said excitedly, squeezing me to his side. “I asked the reno guys to go ahead and put your shutters up, so that’s done too. We just need to prep.”
See?
Presumptuous dick.
“What all do we need?” I was already regretting my decision to let this slide.
Vic smirked gestured for me to follow him. “Some weed, food, and of course, drinks.”
This shit wreaked terribly, and unfortunately for me, no amount of weed or alcohol could have prepared me for the storm headed my way.
♫ Never Be the Same - Camila Cabello ♫
After my little chat with Suki and Ramsey regarding The Phantom Menace, I actually found myself ready to go to work on Monday morning.
I wanted to go to work.
It appeared that, my situation with Roman somehow trumped what Vic had done to me, and while I still wasn’t one-hundred percent—had no intention of seeing or speaking to him—that perpetual state of paranoia had vanished once more. The flashbacks had subsided to mild night terrors, too, ones I could handle and, overall, I hadn’t been dwelling on the sordid affair anymore, period.
That was new for me.
Really new for me.
I suffered years of trauma and PTSD after such harrowing occurrences, with no simple or instant fix along the way. Took several therapists, lots of medications, and overall time to even find a way to cope with it.
But this thing with Roman made it go away like nothing ever happened, which kept bringing me back to, were my girls right?
That’s exactly what I was dissecting to the final translucent thread when I pulled up to Black Widow and saw all my employees gathered outside.
It looked like damn riot.
What in the fuck?
All thoughts of Roman briskly fizzled away to the back of my mind as I eased into my usual spot and killed the engine, hopping out of the G Class at lightning speed.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked, throwing my door shut.
Dozens of heads snapped my way, a lot of them which proceeded to cower just from my tone alone.
“Power’s out,” said one of the packagers.
My brow quirked high in a perfect arch as I dragged my gaze his way. “The entire building?”
He nodded. “Every last room.”
“Did we check the breakers?” I hedged, turning my attention to the factory’s exterior for any clues.
“We flipped them three times,” he explained. “Nothing.”
Of course there was nothing.
Nothing, as usual, which meant one thing and one thing only.
Roman.
“I see. Thank you.” That was all I offered the man before stalking off to the front doors with anger swiftly bubbling in my gut.
I had it in my right mind to haul my ass over to Noir Coast and wring the bastard’s neck, give him a piece of my damn mind, but I’m sure that’s what he was he was expecting.
What he wanted.
And I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction this time.
Swiveling around on my toes, I cleared my throat and waited until I had the crowd’s undivided attention.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” they hummed.
“As you’re all fully aware already, the power is out, and it looks like this is something that’s going to take some time to resolve. Quite obviously that means some of you won’t be able to operate your usual stations, so I’m doubling you up to work on packaging. Once everything is packaged, you can go home—if the power hasn’t been restored by then, that is. Easy enough, yeah?”
A loud round of “Yes, ma’am” erupted around me, most of them nodding in agreement.
“Wonderful, then let’s get to work.” I smiled as genuinely as possible and tipped my head every so often as they all began filing in past me.
When the last few trickled in, I whipped out my phone and scrolled through my contacts for Roscoe’s number. The man was likely dead asleep but…he was basically all the help I had at the moment, aside from Ellie.
Me: Good morning. I hate to possibly wake you, but we have a problem. Roman was here at some point between last night and this morning. We have absolutely no power and, apparently, some of these guys already tried flipping the breakers before I arrived. It’s not a simple fix. I need someone out here to come take a look at it ASAP. Thank you in advance.
With the text delivered, I slipped my phone back into my purse and headed upstairs to my office, head held high—all seemingly calm, cool, and collected.
I was fuming, though, positively livid.
Burning.
Loathing every facet of what made up my acquaintance with Roman, and that visceral, overwhelming connection.
This mindset was good, how I needed to think at all times.
I welcomed it, embraced it with open arms.
Yes.
This is how things between Roman and I should be.
How they needed to stay.
Enemies.
Forever.
Anything else was unacceptable, a danger to well-being, to my sanity.
The past—though not vast—proved confronting him was pointless and, all the while, lethal, a deadly concoction of rage and unadulterated lust.
I had to stay away from him.
Wouldn’t be remotely easy, but I had to try.
My heart would never survive Roman King otherwise.
I failed, royally.
Despite being dead-set on not giving Roman the satisfaction of eliciting a reaction from me, I ended up doing just that anyway.
As the morning went on, the temperatures in the factory continued to rise, my office included. I was sweating bullets, could feel my hair protesting against the humidity, sticking to every inch of my damp skin. No doubt my make-up was smearing off, too.
By the time the electrician finally arrived, I was a hot mess.
Literally.
An irritable hot mess who went nuclear when said electrician explained all the wires had been snipped, thus confirming this would be a lengthy—and quite costly—process.
Right then, in that moment, denying Roman of what he so justly deserved suddenly seemed stupid.
What he needed was a taste of his own damn medicine. He wanted to get this petty?
No problem, I could do petty with damn eyes closed.
So I returned him the favor, sent hell right to his doors, and when the sun finally set just beyond the horizon, I raced like a bat out of hell to the Panorama.
I was already waiting on the rooftop beneath the full moon when Roman finally showed his face. I hadn’t been certain he’d actually show at all, but if his day was as trying as mine, he’d need an escape like he needed his next breath.
Le
aned up against the glass ledge, I smiled inwardly when the metal door slammed shut on the other side of the roof.
If he hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone yet, he would be in three…
Two…
One…
“Well, well, well, look what we have here.” His voice boomed perfectly on cue, footsteps growing louder and louder as he approached.
“An indignant female,” I retorted, cutting my eyes to his approaching form.
Jesus Christ…
My jaw almost fell slack as he came closer into view. Thankfully, I was able to keep myself together and swallowed deeply instead, hoping like hell he hadn’t caught onto the blatant action. Tried as I might not to stare, though, my gaze moved of its own accord, following the defined lines of his tailored clothing.
He was all broad shoulders, built arms, and slim waist beneath them, and he looked…
Ugh, do I even have to say it?
You’re going to make me, aren’t you?
He looked… Well, he looked… Delicious.
There’s no other way to word it. He looked absolutely delicious, and more so than ever because he was actually wearing some color.
I’d never seen him in anything other than black.
The rusted ruby of his dress shirt brought out his eyes impossibly more, especially with the top two buttons undone.
No tie.
Just a peek of the colorful ink on his chest on display.
I was straight up gaping by the time he came to a full stop beside me, not a trace of anger or hostility anywhere to found.
The spell was thicker than ever this time, and we were caught tightly in its web.
“Indignant female, huh? Well, we seem to have a pissed off bloke, too,” he tossed back, leaning one arm on the ledge. “My day was rather…heated.”
“Funny, so was mine. Turns out some asshole snipped my electrical. Had to have it all rewired.”
“Wow, what a maggot,” he said sarcastically, shaking his head.
“Oh, he is—a total pest.” I bit back the smile that was trying to break free. “Alls good, though, I returned him the favor.”
Roman nodded and scoffed a laugh through his nose. “That you did.”
