Rule You (Vegas Knights Book 3)

by Bella Love-Wins

  “Shit,” I mouthed.

  I let her go and she turned around, lifting her arms to curl around my neck, all but plastering herself to me before kissing me.

  She tasted like cigarettes and beer.

  The beer, I didn’t mind.

  But I hadn’t smelled the cigarettes on her earlier—I hated anything that reminded me of tobacco. It was another thing that triggered memories. Pulling my mouth from hers, I kissed her neck instead and found her trembling. Well, hell.

  “Please, Sly…”

  I wasn’t going to find some dark corner and fuck her.

  I just didn’t want her.

  I wanted someone, but a nameless fuck wasn’t it. That pissed me off and it wasn’t a good idea for me—or the nameless, pretty woman who was shaking against me—to have sex when I was hanging off the edge like this.

  But I didn’t have to leave her on any sort of edge either.

  I slid a hand between us, between the high slits in the fabric of the thing she called a skirt and found the heat of her. She was completely bare—not really my preference but it didn’t matter at this point. She was already slick, wet, the folds of her pussy swollen and waiting for cock.

  I found the nub of her clit and worked it.

  She arched against me, her spine bending back like I’d zapped her with a stun gun. Her lips parted in an O, but no sound came out. If people looked our way, I didn’t pay them any attention.

  Neither did she, but she wasn’t in much shape to notice anything but the fact that I’d just thrust a finger inside her. It didn’t take much to learn the rhythm of her body. With one arm braced around her waist, I finger-fucked her and played with her clit, taking her to the edge of orgasm.

  If I was in a playing mood, I would’ve left her there, then taken her to the corner of the club, or maybe upstairs to one of the private booths where I’d have her return the favor. Then we’d both drive each other a little crazy.

  But I wasn’t in the mood to play—at least not with her.

  I sent her whimpering into a quick and dirty climax.

  Once her breathing calmed and she was steady on her feet, I dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.

  She gave me a dreamy smile.

  Mine was probably more along the lines of cursory, but I tried.

  “Be safe in here,” I told her.

  Then I pulled back and got lost in the twisting mass of bodies.

  6

  Emmy

  No news.

  I stared at the phone in my hands as I played over the conversation I’d had with the police from Branson, Missouri.

  They didn’t have any news for me.

  “We believe he’s likely left the area. You should remain aware. Have you talked to the police there?”

  With a weak laugh, I lowered the phone and stared directly up at the ceiling. Sure, I’d talked to them. For what little good it had done. The female detective I’d elected to speak with had been understanding, but she’d also been blunt.

  “You realize that until he shows up, unless he bothers you, there’s not much we can do. The Branson Police—do they have any evidence he burned your house down?”

  “No,” I’d had to tell her. “He’s just a person of interest.”

  A person of interest—

  “Emmy!”

  Mac’s voice caught me off-guard and I sat up on the bed, looking toward the door that I’d shut in anticipation of a tense call. “Come in,” I said.

  The door opened and Mac looked at me with a mix of panic, excitement, and fear. “Angel’s water broke. We’ve gotta go.”

  My mouth dropped open, then I snapped my jaw shut. “Okay. Right.”

  Angel had warned me that she wasn’t sure how Mac would act when this happened. “Be the grown-up…please,” she’d begged.

  Okay. I’d be the grown-up. I was used to doing that anyway.

  “Let’s go then,” I said, moving to the shoes I had lined up neatly by the doorway. I was already dressed, wearing leggings and a tunic, and the flats would work fine with the clothes. Not that it mattered. I could be in a formal dress and I’d pair it with tennis shoes now if I had to.

  “I’ll tell Angel to come down now. I’ve already called for a car,” he said, eyes huge in his face.

  “I’ll find the baby bag.” Then I rested a hand on his bicep—it was like a smooth boulder under his tanned skin. “Breathe, Mac. No passing out until the delivery room at least.”

  “Don’t joke about that. Please.”

  I laughed.

  One thing I hadn’t been ready for was seeing Sly O’Malley.

  Granted, I’d been in Vegas for close to a month now and I’d realized that the three men—LeVan, Mac and Sly—were about as close as they could be. As close as Angel and I were, really. No…closer. The bond they shared was more like the bond Angel shared with her best friend, Tamika. Angel and I were definitely tight, but she’d grown up with Tamika and their bond was one that I couldn’t even imagine.

  I’d already called Tamika. She was teaching at a school in Philadelphia, but the session was almost over for the summer and she’d be on a plane out here as soon as she was done for the year.

  Angel’s parents would be in the air as soon as they could.

  My mother knew.

  I’d spent the past hour doing everything I could to distract myself from the annoyance that was Sly.

  Now, as he dropped down into the seat next to me, I wondered what else I could do that would keep my attention away from him and the looks he often shot me.

  I opened my mouth to point out there were other open seats in the waiting room, but then, for reasons I couldn’t explain, I stopped myself and looked around. There were other open seats. There was no denying that.

  But each of those seats was next to someone who wasn’t with our small group.

  I wasn’t about to sit next to one of them.

  And I could already tell that Sly wasn’t exactly Mr. Social.

  I sighed and bit back the comment.

  “How long does this kind of thing take?” he asked abruptly, the words coming out of him in a jagged burst.

  I couldn’t stop the amused smile from spreading across my lips. “Are you assuming that because I have ovaries I have the answer to that embedded in my DNA?”

  “No. I’m asking you that because you seem like one of those…types.” His eyes flicked to my hair, mouth tightening. “Aside from your cotton-candy hair. You look like someone who researches and analyzes—when the nurse came in to check and see who was with the family, you marched over there, ticking off names and pointing each of us off like ducks in a row before any of us even processed what she wanted or why she asked. You had all of our phone numbers written down for her—how the hell did you find out my phone number?”

  “Please.” I sniffed. “That was child’s play. I checked Angel’s list.”

  “And do you have any idea how long this kind of thing takes?” he asked again.

  Sighing, I pushed a strand of my hair—my cotton-candy hair—back behind one ear. “It varies. She could be in labor up to a day or more since this is her first one. But because her water broke, it will probably be less than that.”

  His face took on a green cast.

  I resisted the urge to recount some vague detail beyond her water breaking. That was mild as far as childbirth went.

  “You look almost like Mac did when I told him not to pass out,” I remarked.

  “Mac passed out?”

  “No.” Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “There’s this weird phenomenon. A woman goes into labor and a man’s ability to listen drops by like fifty percent. It’s like you’re listening for the cry of a baby all of a sudden and can’t hear anything else.”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking it like he was considering possible responses and discarding every single one.

  “A whole day?” A minute had passed before he said it.

  Glancing over at him, I shrugged. “It’
s a good thing sex is so much fun and that babies are so cute—otherwise, humans as a species would’ve died out a long, long time ago.”

  His face looked grim.

  My phone rang before I could poke at him about it. I grabbed it, trying to hide the typical response I had to any ringing phone. I think I managed a decent enough job, and it helped that the call was from my mom.

  “I have to take this,” I said softly, rising from the seat as I hit the talk button.

  As I strode toward the door, I put the phone to my ear. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Where are you, darling?”

  His voice was a rasp, carrying to my ears despite the fact that I’d dropped the phone the second I’d heard his voice.

  Through some glitch of technology and timing, he’d called just as Mom had gone to hang up, and when I clicked on the button to disconnect, what it had done was connect my call to his.

  His hello had come as a double, one-two punch of shock.

  I wanted to huddle in myself to get away from it, but where was I supposed to go?

  I’d run halfway across the country and he’d still managed to reach me on the phone, even though I’d blocked his numbers. Right then, it felt like it was only a matter of time before he’d find me.

  “Darling, where are you?”

  Light spilled across the small terrace but I didn’t look away from the phone. I had some surreal feeling if I looked away, he’d know. He’d see me—or see something beyond my face and he’d figure out where I was.

  The sound of footsteps echoing across the balcony made me flinch and I huddled in closer on myself, eyes still locked on the screen on my phone.

  “Talk to me, Emerald. I know you’re there. I can hear you…”

  A hand came down into my field of view and I whimpered, cringing away. But it grabbed the phone—

  Jerking my head up, I saw Sly’s face just as he lifted the phone to his ear.

  “Who the fuck is this?” he asked in a calm, clear tone.

  There was no answer.

  At first.

  I heard, though, when he started to talk, foul and ugly things spilling from him. “Who the fuck…who are you? I’ll rip your guts out. Who the fuck…”

  I lurched upward and swiped out a hand, grabbing for the phone but Sly held up one long arm, evading me easily.

  “Easy, man. Fuck….” Sly laughed a little, amusement echoing through each sound. “You sound like someone who hasn’t been laid in a long, long time.”

  He was quiet a moment, then he looked at the phone. “I think he hung up.”

  He tossed me the phone back and I caught it with numb hands.

  My hands were still numb when he approached and offered his to help me to my feet. But the moment our palms connected, a shock raced up my arm, set my bloodstream to singing.

  I sucked in a breath and tore my hand from his, too shaken to bother hiding my unease. Wiping my hand down the side of my pants, I sidled away from him, heading for the door that would take me back inside, to safety.

  “Emmy,” Sly said in a low voice.

  I froze.

  “We’re talking about this,” he said.

  “No,” I responded my voice a bare whisper.

  His footsteps echoed on the floor as he came up behind me. “Yes.”

  Then he moved around and opened the door, standing there, clearly waiting.

  Swallowing the nerves down, I passed beyond him.

  We weren’t talking about this.

  If I could, I’d forget about it…entirely.

  There was no way I’d tell someone like Sylvester O’Malley about it. I doubted the cocky, arrogant piece of work had any idea of what it was like to feel…weak.

  Maybe it was just luck, but Angel’s labor was a lot like her courtship was…short and…well, I wasn’t going to be so stupid as to call it sweet. It wasn’t called labor for nothing.

  But after less than seven hours, Colleen Knight made her appearance and the proud daddy was the one to present her to us as one by one, each of us visited her and her parents.

  I waited until last, because although I was close to Angel, I hadn’t been part of this close-knit group the way the rest of them had.

  Sitting at the foot of the bed, I held the baby, studying the small, delicate features as I pondered her. “She’s going to look like you, Angel.”

  “Told you, baby,” Mac said.

  “Oh, hush,” Angel responded. She poked him in the chest and he caught her wrist, lifting her hand to his lips.

  The gentleness of it, the intimacy made my heart clench.

  “Sly said you had a phone call,” Mac said, drawing my attention away from the baby.

  Clenching my jaw, I counted mentally to ten. Then I shot for twenty. When that didn’t do it, I gave up. “Sly should mind his own business,” I muttered. I shot him a look, though, then glanced at Angel. They knew the worst of it. I wouldn’t have come here if they hadn’t been okay with it. When Angel had called out of the blue to ask if I’d maybe want to be the nanny, I’d been reluctant at first, but she’d pried the reasons for why out of me. That had just made her double down on me. “Even if you won’t take the job, you’re coming out here. You need family with you, honey. And you know I love Lucille and Dex, but they’d be about as much use as a paper umbrella in a hurricane during any sort of crisis.”

  She’d summed up my situation perfectly and because they had taken me in at a time when I needed someplace to go, I knew I owed them more than just a flippant answer, but I didn’t know what to say.

  Finally, I bit the bullet and met Mac’s gaze levelly.

  “He’s called twice.” Rising, with the baby carefully cradled against me, I took a few steps and passed her back to her father. He handled her with that nervous awe I’d seen in new dads a few times and I couldn’t help but smile. He was already so in love with the little girl, he was just about stupid with it. As he shifted her so that he had her cradled next to Angel, I continued to speak. “I didn’t talk to him either time and I recorded the calls and dates and times, just like I’m supposed to. But I don’t know what good it will do me.”

  “Does he know where you are?” Angel asked, her voice urgent.

  “I don’t think so. He asked where I was—was pretty adamant about it.” Smoothing my hands down the leggings I wore, I glanced at my watch. “I should go. I’ll be back in tomorrow. Do you need anything?”

  “No.” Mac glanced at Angel, then said, “I’ll be contacting hotel security. There will be tighter security on our floor and don’t be surprised if they seem to be keeping a close eye on you.”

  I made a face, but nodded.

  He was too smart to be caught by security.

  He’d already proven that.

  A feeling of helplessness threatened to wash over me and I had to fight it back.

  I wasn’t going to let him control my life.

  I’d gotten away from him.

  For all I knew, he’d never be able to find me.

  7

  Sly

  It was the first rehearsal that Mac had made it to in almost three weeks.

  To be honest, I was surprised he was there at all. He could be seen walking through the casino with the baby and she had already charmed the staff and quite a few of the regulars who came to hit the tables and slots. But Mac had a lot on his plate. He was getting married in just over a week, and both he and the new mama were eating up life as parents.

  It was so cute, it was almost sickening.

  And I’d let him know that, too. Often.

  As he came into the practice area, I paused in the middle of shuffling my cards and eyed him. “You’ve got baby puke on your shoulder.”

  He swore and looked down—then he shot me a dirty look.

  “Hey, you showed up at dinner wearing it like it was diamonds the other day,” I said, shrugging. “You aren’t ever going to live that down.”

  “Just you wait, Sly,” he said. “One of these days…”

 
; The words trailed off there and he hopped up onto the stage, looking around. “Where’s Lev?”

  “Late.” I rolled my eyes. “I might as well be a one-man show the way you two are treating things lately.” Then, because LeVan had warned me he’d probably be late, I added, “He told me last night. He had to go in to get fitted for the tux he’s having made. He’s getting a new one for the wedding.”

  LeVan was getting married a month after Mac and Angel. Mac had up and proposed to Angel the day Colleen was born, that night after we’d all left to go home.

  None of us was surprised to see the rock on her finger, or that they were making quick work of the wedding. Personally, if I didn’t hear the word wedding again for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.

  “Speaking of monkey suits…the tux I own, is that good enough for whatever you and Angel are putting together?” I asked. “It’s all black.”

  “Like you’d do anything fancy. I’ll ask Angel. She’s told me she’s keeping it simple, but what’s simple for a man probably isn’t simple for a woman.”

  Our eyes met and we both grinned.

  “LeVan says he would’ve been happy grabbing the nearest Elvis to perform the wedding,” I said.

  “So I heard. Thea would probably scalp him. She’s waited too long to be with him—they deserve a nice, fancy wedding.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler we kept on the stage and twisted the top off as he spoke. “Maybe for our fifth, me and Angel can do something big and fancy.”

  “Already making plans five years down the road. Man.” I grimaced. Then, casually, I shot a look around the room. The assistants weren’t there yet. Since it was just me—or since I’d thought it would be just me, I’d planned on using the time in here to sketch out ideas for a new illusion. It was always time to plan for something new in this business. The audience was easily bored and the job of entertainment constantly evolved. “Listen, I’ve wanted to ask you about this before. But the time hasn’t been right.”