Which currently was a big fat nothing.
Running my hand over my short hair, letting the water wash away the sweat and dirt, I allowed my hand to roam. With Marta right there in the kitchen, I should have been ashamed of what I was doing, but I wasn’t. Not with Vegas looming. The city of sin for most, yet the place I discovered the purest, most beautiful soul.
My thoughts drifted to my old condo. Lynx had been determined to keep paying for her schooling and was hooking in order to do that. I didn’t like it, but what else could I do? It wasn’t my place to force her hand. Natalie didn’t know about us, so Lynx had also kept her apartment next door to Nat for appearance’s sake. All these charades cut into her funds.
I should have told her about my trust fund and paid for her schooling, but somehow, I knew that wouldn’t fly. So I took what I could get. And that was Lynx hanging out at my place when she wasn’t selling her body or babysitting. It was a half-baked arrangement, but I couldn’t afford to be picky.
My cock hardened at the memory of Lynx naked in my condo, walking to the bathroom to shower, her long braids swaying against her ass, then getting dressed in silky lingerie—inevitably, for someone else.
My mind floated back to one night when she was leaning against the floor-to-ceiling windows, her hands pressed against the glass and mine tight over hers, locking them in place, and my cock buried deep in her ass.
Squeezing myself hard before skimming up and down my shaft, I remembered that moment with precise clarity. I’d been watching Lynx’s reflection in the glass, her tits bouncing free while her tight light brown nipples pushed up against the window. No one could see in, but we could see out. The twinkling lights of the Strip spread out in front of us, reflecting off our arms and legs, casting a soft glow around the room.
The city I’d grown up in was there for the taking, glowing like a beacon as it waited for me to conquer it. Vegas was my town, and it was on her streets that I’d learned to be a man. With Lynx in my condo, I’d envisioned for the first time building an empire of my own. My dad wouldn’t be the only Wind to put up hotels and amass a fortune. I could do it too.
It wasn’t just the sex that made me confident. Being with Lynx brought out something primal in me. I was king of the jungle, ready to attack my prey and carry the prize back to my mate.
And the sex was freaking awesome.
Even now—as nothing but a memory—Lynx’s tight pussy, her round ass, and the way she didn’t leave anything on the table made my heart race and my dick surge in my hand.
Any misgivings she’d had about me slumming it with her had been pushed to the side. It didn’t matter that we were from two different worlds. Like me, she didn’t have any inhibitions, and we’d had the best fucking sex I’d ever had. Dirty, kinky, freaky, slow, sensual—I’d loved it all.
I picked up the pace, roughening my grip as my balls tightened under me, ready to explode as I pictured running my fingers over her soft skin. My calloused hand had traveled slowly, brushing the side of her breast, lingering near her nipple that was peaking and pointing, before finding its way to her clit.
My hand worked overtime on my cock as I remembered strumming her clit while the tip of my dick breached her ass. God, it had been fucking tight like a vise. I remembered feeling like I’d died and gone to heaven, and wanted to stay there forever.
“I’m coming, Michael,” Lynx had moaned, biting into my other hand that still held hers in place on the window.
Michael. She’d been the only one to ever call me that, mostly when we were in bed or making love. It was charged with a feeling I’d never associated with myself, even during all those years I’d lived with my high school sweetheart, Rochelle. Lynx’s mouth said Michael, but her words breathed love.
That evening, her voice had been hoarse and throaty, and at her words, I’d gone over the edge. I slammed into her, pumping in and out until my cum dripped out of her.
“Shit!” I yelled in the shower as I tugged my hand up and down, coming while leaning my head against the tile—a little too hard.
With a heavy dose of remorse weighing me down, I got the hell out of the shower and toweled off before heading out to eat bacon and eggs . . . with the woman who currently warmed my bed.
Two weeks later
WHEN I landed in Sin City, the sun was starting to set and the lights had come on over the Strip. Throwing my duffel over my shoulder, I walked outside and breathed in the early evening desert air. It was the same dry, scratchy stuff I’d grown up on, and it settled my lungs as much as it kicked up my nerves.
Spotting the Tunnel’s pimped-out SUV, I threw a peace sign up in the air with two fingers before whistling to get Billy’s attention.
“Hey, man.” His blue eyes twinkled at me as I jumped into the passenger seat of my old ride and tossed my shit behind me.
“What’s up, Billy boy?”
He huffed as he looked over his shoulder and pulled out. “I just left a warm Sadie back in my bed to come and get your sorry ass.”
“Tough shit!” I smirked, thinking I called that relationship when Billy was still wet behind the ears and screwing up his security detail at the Tunnel. Knowing Asher, he’d be setting Billy and Sadie up with their own club before they even knew what was happening.
“I know, I know! It’s not often that we get the prodigal son back here.”
“Hey, we’re all Asher’s prodigals. He just keeps moving us out and setting up another of us as top dog.”
Billy snorted. “You got his number. Rumor has it, he’s shipping Sadie and me off to either Seattle or Texas when he gets back from the Bahamas. Apparently, Petey’s got some guy under him in Los Angeles that’s coming here to take my post.”
“Sounds about right. It’s been a few years since I left, so it’s your turn to move on. Hold up—can you swing by my condo, and then we can go directly to the club?” I asked, keeping my gaze firmly on the road in front of me.
Billy flicked a glance at me before returning his attention to the road. “You don’t want to unwind a little? I thought I’d just drop you at the condo and send someone to grab you later.”
“No.”
“Come on, Mikey, you’ve got to let that shit go. It’s been four years since you fell for her. All you’ve done is mope and beg that chick to do one single fucking thing for you. I know you cared for her and you got memories and all that crap, but from what Asher says, she’s in the wind. Like I said, let it go.”
Slamming my hand on the dash, I turned to face my friend. “She’s not in the fucking wind. She’ll be back, and I’m going to find her first, Billy. She deserves that, just like everyone else in our gang. Thank fuck we loved Sienna when she told us about her past as Lila. And the way we took Quinn under our wing when we learned Asher was his father? Or the way we accepted Petey into the fold, even though he lied about being Asher’s half brother? We’re a fucking family, and I want my girl.”
Billy held up a hand. “I got you, man. I hear you loud and clear. Believe me, we want you to find her. But all that doesn’t mean you can’t chill at your condo for a while.”
“It does,” I said as he pulled into my condo’s garage. I kept the place just in case Lynx came back there looking for me. The doorman knew to let me know if anyone—particularly Lynx—stopped by. The money didn’t mean a damn thing to me. I would never sell it until she was back for good.
“Keep the motor running, I’ll be right back down,” I told him as I slammed the passenger door.
I ran upstairs and grabbed my pistol out of the safe, shoving it in the back of my jeans and covering it with my track jacket. I threw my bag on the couch but quickly snagged it back up—I didn’t have any intention of staying at the condo full of memories. I could sleep in Asher’s office if I wanted to—as soon as he got the hell out of Dodge tomorrow.
Jumping back into the SUV, I yelled, “Let’s go, Billy. Time to make some money and take care of the ladies on the stage!”
INSIDE THE Electric
Tunnel, I felt almost normal. Taking one deep breath after another of the crisp oxygenated air, I was home. I loved it there. And I adored Asher more than my own father, even though Asher thought I should let go of Lynx.
He didn’t get it. Nat had literally fallen back into his life. Yeah, he had to work for it, but he knew where the fuck she was.
Some song about twerking it blared through the speakers as I roamed the floor, slapping all the bouncers on the back, and kissing all the lovely women wearing thongs and G-strings. The navy-blue walls were like a balm to my battered heart. This pulsing deep-purple haze of a place was my home.
Sydney Luv kissed my cheek when I walked up to the back bar. “Hey, Big Mike.”
Sydney was an all-American beauty. All creamy freckled skin and strawberry-blond locks, she was an angel—an angel who did a damn good job of stripping. But she wasn’t really my type. Over the last few years, my preferences ran darker. Not just sexually, but skin color too.
The dancers had been trying to get me to break down and sleep with one of them for years. Not gonna happen. If they knew I was screwing one of my dancers in Florida—with regularity—they would fucking shit.
“Hey, baby,” I said, playfully smacking her ass peeking out from neon-green hot pants. “How’s it going, honey?”
“All good. I bought a new place over in Summerlin, and I’m sharing Sienna’s old slot with Sadie. Although, Billy’s losing patience. He wants Sadie off the stage,” she said, swirling her tongue around a cherry from her amaretto sour, still trying to tempt me.
I was pretty sure they had a bet going in the dressing room. First one to fuck Big Mike got a thousand bucks.
“My guess is that’s gonna be happening real soon, little girl.” I motioned for the bartender, completely unaffected by the stunning half-naked woman, and ordered, “Jack, neat.”
The drink was in my hand before I could take another breath. I ran the tumbler under my nose, inhaling the barrel-aged oaky scent before tossing the drink back. Then I went to find Asher, pretty sure he was eager to head home to his wife.
And he was. I found him up in his office, counting cash and shoving it in the safe.
“Honey, I’m home,” I said, banging open the door.
At nearly forty years old, Asher didn’t even flinch. He just grabbed a pistol from his drawer and pointed it with perfect aim at my heart.
“You asshole. You’re gonna get yourself killed, Mike.” He tucked it back in the drawer before he stood and came my way, gathering me in a bro hug.
“Nah, I’m just as quick,” I said, whipping out my own piece.
I remembered a time not too long ago when things weren’t so playful between Asher and his pistol and me. Natalie had fled to Miami, and Asher had just learned he was the one who had knocked her up during an ugly threesome. I hadn’t wanted to tell Asher where she was, but when he shoved a gun at my temple, I didn’t have much of a choice.
That was when Lynx packed up to help Natalie and never came back.
And I fell in love with a quart or ten of Jack Daniels.
“Put your gun down, Mike. My wife is waiting for me to get home and fuck her.”
Settled back in his chair with his boots up on the desk and his wild blond hair sticking up in every direction, Asher asked, “What’s up with our hotel?”
I sat opposite him, propping my basketball shoes up on the desk too. “Foundation going in this month. Permits are all set. The plans have been approved all around. Thirty luxury one-bedroom suites and fifteen two-bedrooms, a lounge, high-end restaurant, and coffee shop all ready to be put up in one of South Beach’s premier blocks. As soon as the whole thing is framed, the work on the lap pool and decks overlooking the ocean will start. Maybe ten, twelve months, tops.”
“Good, I’m gonna tell Nat on this trip. We’re getting a sitter down there and will have some time alone. She’s probably gonna blow a gasket at first. But I got the plans on my phone and once she sees those, she’ll be all in.” He pulled his feet down and leaned forward. “You doing okay? Staci working out?”
“I’m fine, Ash. Staci is great and doing fine. She’s ready to take over the whole place.”
“I mean, are you doing okay, Mike? I know you’re looking for Lynx and tapping that other piece of ass at the same time. Granted, I’m not one to judge, but you gotta either stop looking for Lynx or you need to make a go of it with the stripper. Not both.”
I frowned, running a hand over the back of my head. “It’s not like that. Marta likes us being casual.”
Asher barked out a laugh. “Huh-uh. No woman likes casual, Mike, take it from me. She’s waiting for you to forget about Lynx, and she’s gonna be done waiting soon. Remember, she works for you. You’re setting yourself up for a big mess.” He leaned back in his chair and glared at me, his silver eyes shooting daggers my way.
“I can’t believe it! Asher, the king of the threesomes, giving me relationship advice.” I stood to go, but added, “I got it, Ash. I know what I’m doing. I got the club here while you’re gone, and I got the hotel in Florida when I head back. And I got Staci, and I’m gonna find Lynx. Because I’m that fucking amazing, man.”
“I’ll be there in a heartbeat when you realize you’re not that fucking amazing, Mikey-boy,” Asher called after me as I strode out of his office at the top of his adult-entertainment empire. “And send me the reports from tonight to my phone!”
MY FIRST two days in the desert went as planned. I spent most of my time taking care of the Tunnel. When I wasn’t there, I hung out with a bunch of my old bartender buddies on the strip—staying out of the Palace where I met her—and successfully avoided being at the condo.
It wasn’t until the third morning I was there and sleeping on Asher’s new office couch that shit went sour. There I was, happy as fuck sleeping, thrilled that after Asher married Nat, he replaced the cesspool of semen and bodily fluids that he used to call a couch, when my phone buzzed with unwanted news.
MARTA: Hey, baby! How you doing?
I sat up and stared at the screen, rubbing my hand over my face.
MIKE: It’s four a.m. here, seven where you are. What are you doing up?
MARTA: I couldn’t sleep. Miss you.
MIKE: Don’t get like that. I’ll be back. I miss you too.
MARTA: I know. I’m not wailing or anything. Just miss seeing you in general. Knowing you’re okay.
MIKE: I’m good, baby.
MARTA: Hey, good news! Staci kicked me off this week’s schedule so I could come out and be with you.
That goddamn Staci. What the fuck?
I stood and carried my phone to the bathroom, setting it on the counter while I drained the dragon. I didn’t respond until I finished, kicking my foot up to flush.
Why did everyone in my life feel like they had to wade in and solve shit? Did Staci think I couldn’t handle Vegas on my own? Or did she believe Lynx was never coming back? Even worse, had she convinced herself that Marta and I were a thing?
MIKE: Baby girl, you don’t have to do that. I’m good.
MARTA: I got a flight. I’m leaving in a few. I’ll text you when I’m there. Will you send someone? It will be during setup for the club.
MIKE: Shit, I’ll come myself. But you don’t have to do this.
MARTA: I know. I want to. And I’ve never been to Vegas before!
MIKE: OK, baby.
MARTA: See you soon!!!
My first thought was, Where the fuck are we going to stay?
In my crazed state of confusion, the black-and-white office spun until it looked gray. I decided to go on a run before it got too hot, but mostly to get rid of the craziness coursing through my whole body.
I didn’t need this. All I wanted was to get the hell in and out of this town. Now I had to play fucking tour guide for Marta.
Don’t get me wrong . . . I wanted to show her a good time. Anywhere but here.
She knew about Lynx and that I looked for her. But she thought it was out of some bene
volence of my heart, that I didn’t want some helpless woman on the street. Because in Marta’s mind, I was compassionate and caring, not pining for what once was or could have been.
MARTA CAME running out to baggage claim and flung herself into my arms, wrapping her legs around me. “Vegas, baby! Where anything can happen!”
I patted her on her tight ass and set her down before I kissed her. Closed mouth, but it was pretty fucking hot and held lots of promise. My dick perked up right away at the thought of this little visit, even if my other head wasn’t in a good place.
“Hey, Mart. You got bags?” I grabbed her hand and walked toward the carousels.
“Duh. A few,” she said, squeezing my hand.
A few minutes later with two suitcases in hand, we loaded up the Tunnel’s SUV and headed out to either pure heaven or hell, depending on how you looked at it. Pulling away from the airport, I didn’t even think twice before driving straight to one of my dad’s hotels.
“Where’s your place?” Marta asked as I parked the truck in front of the Luxious, the most luxurious of all his properties.
“It’s down at the other end of the strip,” I said, nodding in that direction. “But I thought we would make this more of a vacation.”
I went to open the door but wasn’t fast enough. She reached over the console and turned my face toward her. With her light blue eyes staring directly into my brown ones, she asked, “Is this okay?”
I turned my head, trying to wrestle free of her gaze. “Mart, come on. Don’t do this here.”
The valet attendants could apparently see we were having a tense moment. They gave us our space and didn’t approach the vehicle as her eyes filled with tears.
Shit.
Tinged (The Electric Tunnel Book 3) Page 3
