I’d first laid eyes on her at a party hosted by my old prep school buddy, Clay. I’d been a bit slow on the uptake that night, realizing a little too late that she wasn’t another guest but had been hired to entertain for the evening.
And by entertain, I meant get down and dirty with whoever wanted her, however they wanted her. It was Vegas, and anything went.
Thinking back, it had been the best and worst night of my life. That evening, high on a balcony overlooking the Vegas Strip, I sealed my current fate.
Leaving Lincoln on the terrace, I forced her to promise she wouldn’t go anywhere while I ran inside to grab some wine and one of the quilts from the beds. I’d run so fast through the enormous hotel suite, I broke out in a sweat. My palms were clammy at just the thought of a girl leaving before I got the chance to get to know her better. The way her amber-flecked eyes sparkled and her creamy coffee-colored skin reflected in the moonlight intrigued me before she’d uttered a word.
But there had been something else about her. Underneath all that radiance, there was pain. Something deep and unrequited. Not like the poor-little-rich-boy shit I had experienced. I could tell this woman—the one who told me her real name was actually Lynx—was broken.
And I was going to fix her.
It wasn’t insta-love or any of that silly bullshit. I wasn’t even sure I knew about love or what that word meant. But this girl sparked some deeper, dormant need deep inside my core.
I’d never understood Asher’s rescue fantasy until that very moment.
After we got all the formalities out of the way, we settled onto the blanket. The Vegas skyline was our background, twinkling and sparkling, but it was nothing compared to when Lynx looked at me.
She leaned against my shoulder and we clinked glasses before we both said “jinx” at the same time.
“We should say Lynx,” I teased her, and she giggled.
“This is kind of like being in a movie up here,” she said. “It’s so magical. Look at all the lights and traffic down there, and here we are sitting above it all. Reminds me of sitting on the Hollywood sign in high school.”
“You did that?”
“Yep. It was a dare, and I was never one to back down from a challenge. So my friend Marie and I climbed right up on that sucker and watched the sunrise.”
“Amazing,” I said, taking all of Lynx in. Her smile, the roundness of her tits, the curve of her hips, and her long, lean legs spread out in front of her. She was gorgeous.
Leaning back a bit so I could concentrate on her face, I said, “Tell me about Lynx.”
The sadness deepened in her eyes. Even in the dark, I could see them turn almost black.
“Not much to tell. Grew up in LA. My mom died a few years back from cervical cancer, and I moved here. Dad’s been gone since I was two. Apparently, he liked his other family better. According to my mom, he went out to get a drink one night and never came back.” She shook her head and changed the subject. “I’m putting myself through school. I’m at a branch campus of UNLV for fashion design. That’s it.”
I reached a semi-shaky hand across her face and pushed her long braids behind her ear. I was nervous as fuck all of a sudden. Yeah, I worked at the Tunnel, slumming it as a bouncer, but I’d never slummed it when it came to the ladies. I’d been raised on prep-school pussy and spent the last few years living with Rochelle, who only lasted that long because her honey was grade-A.
Apparently, my dad agreed where Rochelle was concerned.
“That can’t be it. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and that’s no line,” I told Lynx.
She laughed. It was so soft and throaty, I wanted to grab it with my hand and keep it. I imagined it was a laugh just for me, and not one she would use when she was working a job.
Then she poked me in the shoulder and said, “You’re funny.”
“I’m serious. Actually, I’m a bouncer at a strip club, and I see women all the time . . . gorgeous women, and none of them compare to you.”
This time, she didn’t laugh or play-punch me. She blushed. A faint pink hue rushed across her bronze cheeks and neck, and my dick stirred in my jeans as warm blood pumped heavily through my veins. I took off my basketball warm-up jacket, leaving me feeling exposed in my black T-shirt, the tattoo running up my forearm on display. She peeked but didn’t say anything.
Turning the tables on me, she said, “Tell me about you, Mike, other than that you spend your days and nights with gorgeous women.”
I leaned against the wall behind me, pulling Lynx back against my chest, our legs tangled together, and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. “Let’s see. My name is Michael. Michael Anthony Wind, but everyone calls me Big Mike.”
“I think I prefer Michael,” she said confidently.
“You may be the first. Anyway, I was born and bred here in Vegas, raised with money and nannies, and I hated every second of it. I know . . . real first-world problems. My parents divorced a while back, and my mom never really bounced back. My dad keeps trading up for younger makes and models. And me, I skipped out on college and went to work as a bouncer. I guess you could say, I cashed out of their lifestyle a long time ago.”
Lynx smiled, her lips turning up on both sides, her white teeth shining through. “Well, Big Mike, sounds to me like you got it all figured out. You didn’t like where you came from, and you made a change.”
There was no reason to mention my trust fund and the millions I had sitting in the bank, waiting for me to actually do something with my life. That knowledge always changed people’s perception of me, and I liked being just a bouncer.
Her hand went to my arm and traced the letters inked there. “Now I know what this means.”
CASH OUT was inked in cursive along my forearm. I decided a long time ago that all my family had was too much. Wanting for nothing made a person not give a fuck.
“God, LA. What a cesspool that place is, right?” I said, changing the subject.
“Yep. It’s so crowded and full of smog, and we didn’t live in the best neighborhood. My mom was white, but the whiter neighborhoods never really accepted me. I didn’t get asked on play dates or sleepovers or any of that shit since I had a black dad, even though he was way out of the picture, so Mom moved us to a more ethnic area. Still, I couldn’t wait to get the hell out. There was so much crime, and I hated going to sleep at night.”
The flashing lights of the Strip flickered in the background, but weren’t the least bit distracting from the honest beauty in front of me. My heart pounded, and my brain worked overtime trying to think of what to say. What would be substantial and meaningful enough for this woman?
“Is your mom buried there?” I didn’t know where that question came from. It bothered me that they were geographically separated, even though her mom was dead.
She shook her head. “That’s the only reason I didn’t want to leave. My mom was a good person at heart, but she was dealt a bad hand. Over and over again.”
I pulled Lynx even closer. “I’m sure she was a beauty inside and out to be your mother.”
Lynx tilted her head—giving me an opening—and I kissed her. Our mouths came together like the Paris Hotel’s hot-air balloon floating in the nighttime sky. It was if our mouths were meant to be together, one dark and the other light, and I didn’t mean pigment. For the first time ever, I was the light, the yin to someone’s yang.
My tongue explored the soft cavern of her mouth as she turned and leaned her small tits into my hard chest. Her body was half pressed into mine, but I craved more, so I nudged Lynx to roll over. She turned around and we were front to front. With her smaller frame resting on mine, the blanket pulled up over us, a tiny moan escaped her throat as I pressed my hardness against her.
I ran my hand up and down her back. She was wearing a tiny little triangle bikini top and low-rise jeans, making it easy for my already burning hand to further sear as it made its way up and down her smooth skin. As my hand continued to ta
ke laps up and down her spine, feeling her tiny hard nipples rub up against my chest, my fingers drifted into the waistband of her jeans, feeling her ass.
Fuck, it was tight and perfect. Like I said, I watched strippers all day and night. I’d certainly know.
We stayed like that until the sun came up. Me—Mike Wind—a beacon floating in the middle of her rough waters.
That is, until she got a text from her neighbor asking her to run over and pick up her kid.
As it turned out, the other way Lynx earned her money—as a nanny—was for Natalie and her kid we’d never met. Natalie stripped at the Tunnel, and had an on-again, off-again thing with our boss, Asher, but kept her personal life on tight lockdown from all of us at the club.
I had been fucking blown away when I learned all this after dropping Lynx off and meeting the kid that morning. Now I knew why Natalie kept her cards close to her chest. It only took one look to see he was Asher’s. No denying our boss had fathered that fucking kid.
And just like that, I’d been destined to almost drown in a barrel of whiskey while trying to be a refuge for both Lynx and Asher.
Turned out, I had only able to provide shelter for my boss—not for my woman.
I HOISTED my head from my desk, locked my memories down tight, then stood on my own two feet and trekked out of my office. I made my way back through the club to check on my other business before the Wave opened for the night.
Winking at Marta, I slipped out the back door into the oppressive Miami heat. But it was nowhere near as stifling as my own guilt.
“TALK TO me.” I breathed heavily into my phone as I shortened my stride, rolling my neck back and forth to allow the tension to drain from me.
“You okay, man?” Carson asked. “Did I catch you in the middle of something?”
“Just taking a run, blowing off steam. It’s a little early for you, isn’t it?” I glanced at my watch, coming to a full stop.
“I’m working a case up in Philly, staying at my old place, so I’m on Eastern time. Every goddamn time I come back, I think I’ll love batching it for a few days, but it actually sucks. That’s why I’m freaking awake and thinking about how I gotta help you find a slice of the happiness pie, Mike.”
“Yeah, yeah. What the hell you got for me, Carson?”
I’d been running for over an hour. My lungs and legs were burning, and I needed a break. With the early morning Saturday sunrise gliding upward and strengthening, the golden glow beating down on my scalp and sweat dripping down my neck, I plopped down on one of the benches lining the beach pathway.
Carson chuckled. “A little early for you to be breaking a sweat unless you’re in bed, isn’t it?”
The tide was coming in, but I could barely hear the waves crashing over my own racing heartbeat. And it wasn’t the run that was making it speed up.
“Not now, man, cut the crap. I’m batshit tired. Haven’t been sleeping, and I got to work the tension off somehow. Tell me, do you have anything for me?” I asked him again, straightening my legs in front of me, shaking them out.
“A whole lot of bullshit, my friend. Her social’s right, matches up with her full name, Lynx Whisper Bennett. You got all that right in your snooping. Shows Nat’s old apartment down in Florida as her last residence. Also shows her living in Vegas before that with Trish, next door to Nat. Before that, everything is a bit foggy. Her mom moved a lot, didn’t always register her for school. Looks like Mom worked a bunch of cash-only jobs. Lynx’s connection with Natalie is the most consistent piece of information, other than one private cell number she kept in frequent contact with down there. Area code is 305, so Miami.”
“Fuck before, Carson. The number’s probably her pimp. Give me what happened after, after she left Miami, and where the hell she went, dude.”
I shouldn’t be a dick since he was the only friend willing to help me. As an ex-FBI agent, Carson was putting his neck on the line for me, and I was trying to control how deeply he got involved. I wasn’t sure how far his wife, Lila, was going to support me in this game of hide-and-seek, but I needed to find Lynx like I needed a shower.
Badly.
“Well, that’s the part that’s all wrapped up nice and tight in bureaucratic red tape, my man. The after.”
“What the fuck?” I slammed my hand into the bench, the impact reverberating through my bones.
“My guy says no way. He doesn’t have clearance to access the information, and he’s got elevated status. Somebody pretty damn high up has shit sealed tight. I’m going to have to keep climbing the ladder and doling out chits, but it’s no problem. I know who to ask. I got this.”
“Shit, I didn’t mean to rope you in like this.” I sighed, regret joining the sweat seeping from my pores.
Carson’s voice hardened. “Mike, did you keep Lila safe when no one else did? You nodding? Right, so shut your trap. I’m going to do every fucking thing I can.”
The sound of a motorcycle turning over came through the phone.
“Sounds like you do enjoy parts of being alone in Philly. Taking a ride?” I ran a hand over my forehead and behind my head, sending beads of sweat flying.
I could be happy for my friend. I wasn’t that fucking callous.
“Ha! Don’t say anything. I got a little time and thought I’d take advantage of it. Don’t mention it to Lila, okay? She’s got enough pregnancy hormones running through her as it is.”
“Of course,” I said, assuring him his secret was safe with me.
I stood and paced around the narrow bench, unable to control the emotions twisting and turning through my veins. I could have probably run another seven or eight miles just to burn off my tension, but I had to get back home. To the warm body in my bed, even though my head and heart were with another woman who was turning out to be a ghost.
God, I’m messed up. A rat-fucking bastard.
“Look, I know you feel indebted to me, or some shit like that,” I said to Carson. “But don’t let Lila get upset over this. You got a wife and kid now, man, and another one on the way. They got to come first.”
I took in the vacant lot in front of me, the sun casting a faint orange tinge on the debris, and also casting shadows on a pipe dream of mine . . . a dream Asher and I shared. We had bulldozed the old piece-of-crap building that had been here to make room for our new boutique hotel—all part of my plan to make myself a decent man.
An honorable, stand-up man worthy of Lynx when I get her back.
Carson’s voice turned serious. “Dude, I know what I’m doing. We’re going to find her and bring her back. Okay?”
“Yeah.” I turned and headed back toward the bay and the high-rise condo I kept near the club.
“Later.”
“Thanks, Carson. I mean it.”
AS I stepped back into my bachelor pad, the frigid air-conditioning joined the smell of bacon to slap me in the face. Shit, Marta was up, and I still had to talk with Asher about a few issues with the new hotel. And I really needed some time alone to digest my call with Carson.
Asher had gifted me the house he owned here in Miami. A big-as-fuck mansion, all decorated and shit, but I chose to punish myself in this barren stainless apartment close to the beach. It kept my mind focused and alert, and gave me a vantage point to keep scanning the streets. If I wasn’t staring out the window of my office, I was gazing off the balcony of my condo.
“Morning!” rang out from the kitchen.
I mentally counted back three hours. Five o’clock in the morning out in Vegas, which was a little later than we usually touched base on this project. Natalie didn’t know about the venture yet, which I didn’t think was a good idea, but it was Asher’s choice, not mine.
What the fuck did I know about having a wife and kids? Nothing. So I kept my mouth shut.
“Hey, Mart.” I wound my sweaty arms around her from behind. “Smells good,” I mumbled in her ear as I leaned forward and kissed the lobe.
“Better than you.” She laughed, moving to turn
the bacon and crack a few eggs.
“Yeah, I’m going to hit the shower real quick, but I have to call Ash first,” I said, moving toward the master bedroom.
“Okay. I’ll wait to put on your egg whites,” she called after me.
Crap. Marta was so easygoing and accepting, and I was going to break her heart one day soon. More proof my reckless fucking around was going to catch up with me. Hopefully, really soon, now that Carson was involved.
Truth be told, I cared for Marta. If it hadn’t been for my inability to let the past go, we might have been able to have something together. She was a good girl, and I was falling for her.
She was all legs, soft and supple curves, and dark, luscious tits. Deep down, I knew her heart was golden, but she knew when to be tough. None of the VIPs at the club got away with shit when they were in the back with her. She’d put them right in their place with a look and a waggle of her finger.
But my memories wouldn’t allow me to go all-in with the exotic beauty. And she didn’t ask. She knew better.
I hoped.
After my call, I stepped into a steaming shower, leaned my forehead against the cool tile, and closed my eyes as the water beat down my back. Asher had asked me to do the one thing I didn’t want to do.
“I need someone to come and keep an eye on the Tunnel while I take the fam away, Mike. Pete’s looking after Los Angeles and you got Staci out there, and I really need this. That okay with you?” he’d asked toward the end of our call.
I’d said “of course” without hesitation. In a million years, I’d never say no to Asher. He was the only one who had ever given me the acceptance and devotion I’d needed when all I’d been was a down-and-out spoiled teen looking for a place to call home.
But I hadn’t been back in Vegas in a while. I’d been in and out a few times for my dad’s birthday and Asher’s wedding, but those were quick trips.
Asher and Natalie and Carson and Lila were taking all their kids to the Bahamas for a week, which meant I needed to really get down and dirty in Sin City. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much. Lynx wasn’t in Vegas, but it was where we’d met and started whatever it was that we had.
Tinged (The Electric Tunnel Book 3) Page 2
