Big Bad Bouncer (Misters of Manhattan Book 2)

by Lana Lachlan

Cristal inspected a scarlet-painted fingernail. “What say we go to a club tonight?”

  An evening of cocktails and freedom sounded much better than a night of cable although this time the ring would stay firmly on her finger. “Great.”

  “We should go to the Fortune.”

  Casually, Anna rechecked the order book. “Let’s try somewhere else.”

  Cristal straightened. “I thought you had a great time there.”

  “It was okay but not really my scene.”

  Her answer couldn’t have sounded convincing because Cristal had narrowed her eyes which meant Anna was in for a grilling.

  “You took your engagement ring off at the Fortune. Is that where you lost it?”

  Anna’s gaze wandered the room. “I don’t remember.”

  “But something happened,” Cristal said, peering at her closely. “Talk to me, Annaliesa.”

  Her friend sounded like Grandmama. Anna ran a finger down the list of unshipped orders. “Oh, I didn’t realize that there are three pieces to go out today, so I need to get busy.”

  With a sigh, Cristal reached over and clasped Anna’s hand. “For goodness’ sake, tell me.”

  She couldn’t tell. Gage would be one of those forever secrets that stayed close to the heart. Heart? Part of her heart, she realized with a pang of guilt, had gone to him—the brute she’d rather have than her own fiancé. She’d deserved every lash of Gage’s horrible strap.

  Damn him. Damn herself. Damn her whole life.

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Anna mumbled, yanking her hand away so hard, Cristal jumped. “I just didn’t like the atmosphere at the club. Don’t ask me why.”

  Cristal’s eyes were still narrowed but thankfully she didn’t press the subject. “If you say so. There’s a new place around the corner from the Fortune. We could try there.”

  Anna forced aside her misery to muster a weak smile. “Let’s do that. Can you pick me up?”

  “I’ll get Daddy’s chauffeur to drive us so be ready at nine.” She slung her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later, sweetie.”

  She was at the door when a man held it open for her to pass, smiling at Cristal before entering and closing the door. He wandered off to look at one of the abstract paintings, so Anna carried on preparing her orders and by the time she had all three packed for the courier, she noticed the man had been watching her.

  She smiled brightly. “We have some beautiful pieces, don’t you agree?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  His abruptness took Anna aback. “Is there something in particular I can show you?”

  He walked to her, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’m not here for the art.”

  Meeting his brown-eyed gaze, something stirred her memory. A tall man with light brown hair. Thirtyish and wearing an expensive business suit. A man who wouldn’t stand out in this part of town yet Anna thought he looked familiar.

  “Do I know you?”

  “We’ve met but you wouldn’t remember. The name’s Blake Sutton.”

  Anna felt a knot forming in her throat. “Wh-what can I do for you, Mr. Sutton?”

  He smiled but Anna noticed it had no warmth. “Call me Blake. I’m here to get reacquainted.”

  The knot in her throat grew so fast, she couldn’t find air for her lungs, couldn’t make the room stop swirling around her.

  “Take it easy, Annaliesa… or should I say, Anna,” he said softly. “I don’t want you fainting on me.”

  He spoke almost tenderly.

  “How much do you want?” she whispered, holding on to the countertop for support.

  His head went back and forth as though she’d offended him by asking. “Let’s not talk about money. You’ll be married in two weeks and I’m glad for you. Julian Frankland is a lucky man.”

  Fear flooded her. She was at this man’s mercy. He could—would—wreck her family’s reputation without a second thought of the consequences. The Cabots never did anything to attract publicity and as one of the oldest and most respected families in the country, they guarded their privacy. Once it all came out, her Grandmama would be furious and she couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would do to Julian.

  “The instant I spotted you at the Fortune Club,” he drawled into her careening thoughts, “I knew who you were. That’s why I wanted to meet you.”

  The knot tightened to the point of pain.

  “I’d like to get to know you better, Anna. Sometime soon.”

  Terrified, she managed to mumble, “I’m too busy.”

  “You weren’t too busy for me the last time we met.”

  Anna’s mind spiraled back to that last cocktail. He’d been one of the men at the club so she must have talked to him for a few minutes while she finished her drink. Yet she couldn’t recall anything between Cristal leaving and waking up in the loft.

  Blake Sutton walked around the counter to stand very close to her and she recognized his heavy, oily aftershave. Stepping back, Anna found herself jammed against the wall with no way of avoiding the sickly smell now filling her nose and mouth and making her stomach heave.

  “I have photographs of you being carried into his loft, Anna. You also went to his gym where you were seen kissing him before he took you somewhere on his motorcycle. Your fiancé would be so disappointed to know you’ve been cheating.”

  “L-leave Julian alone.”

  He smiled. “All I want is to finish our night. That’s not too much to ask.”

  Beaten, Anna slumped back against the wall.

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said, smiling. “And I’ll return your things. I hope you’ve put a passcode on your new phone, Anna, as I lifted your contacts off the old one before you could wipe it.”

  Without waiting for her response, he headed for the door, turning when he had it open. “One more thing. The thug you’re seeing is an ex-con. The press would love to know that.”

  Shocked, Anna tried to answer but nothing came out. He smiled. “Obviously, he didn’t tell you. Stay safe, Ms. Cabot.”

  Anna had to wait half an hour for the other gallery assistant to arrive before she could make an excuse to leave. By then the drizzle had turned to a downpour.

  He’d told her to call him at the gym, but Anna went straight to his loft. Blake Sutton or one of his friends would follow her but what did it matter when her life was over anyway. And besides, there were worse things than Blake Sutton’s threats. There was Gage. The liar who’d used her for his entertainment. Because in Anna’s mind, leaving something out was the same as lying. She should have known that a man who looked that bad would be bad. Everything about him screamed bad but she’d been too blinded by lust to see the obvious. In the motel she’d connected to him emotionally almost to the point of confiding her doubts about marrying Julian. Thank God she hadn’t shared.

  There was no response to her knock on the loft door so sliding it back a few inches, she braced for Axel’s bark. Instead he came to the door wagging his tail and licking her hand when she stroked his head. She called Gage’s name and getting no answer, sat down on the sofa, debating whether to stay or leave. Being Friday morning, he probably wouldn’t be working so Anna decided to fix herself coffee and wait. Bravely she faced the kitchen, but the sight of dirty dishes piled in the sink and a stove with an inch of grease ended that idea.

  Instead, she wandered around the loft, sidestepping Gage’s clothes left on the floor by the unmade bed. He might be angry at her breaking in but what did she care. He’d broken into her life, lied to her, spoiled everything by bringing her to his dirty loft. She could do whatever she liked.

  Anna pushed half-heartedly at the heavy punching bag hanging by the window. It hardly moved, so she pushed it again and when it swung a little, prodded it several times. She imagined the bag being Blake Sutton’s head and in a sudden burst of anger, punched it as hard as she could.

  “You’ll break your wrist doing it like that.”

  Gage’s growl spun her around. His arms we
re full of beer and boxes of frozen food, a newspaper tucked in an armpit. Even in old black sweatpants and tee, ratty trainers and a ball cap turned backwards, Anna still felt the familiar throb of need. No matter how much she disliked the brute and his dirty habits, she couldn’t stop the wanting.

  “I told you to call the gym,” he said, dumping the contents of his arms on the countertop. “Wasn’t I clear enough?”

  He only had to open his mouth to fire her up. “I want to talk to you, you jerk.”

  Why did she have to be so rude to him? Here she was, picking a fight with the one person who could help her.

  He began filling his refrigerator with beer while she tapped a toe impatiently. “I’ve got something to say to you, Mr. Gage.”

  He lifted an indifferent shoulder, adding to her impatience. “I’m expecting company, princess, so unless you plan to join in, this isn’t a good time.”

  “Is sex all you ever think about?” she spat, stifling a prick of jealousy. “I’m here on business.”

  He perused her suit and heels. “So it seems.”

  His total lack of emotion took Anna from jealous to angry. “I thought you wanted to help but I should have known you didn’t mean it.”

  He ripped the cap from a bottle of bear, glugged most of it before answering. “I will help once you calm down. Although for everyone’s sake, the sooner you’re married off to the jackass the better. You need to be kept in line.”

  Anna’s dam of anger burst. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, you asshole!”

  He started toward her in slow, deliberate steps that screamed danger so she raised a hand as if the futile action could hold him off. “Stay away from me.”

  Still he kept coming so Anna scuttled behind the punching bag for protection, peering around the side at the advancing man bulging with muscles and sinew and anger. “Don’t come any closer. You’re a criminal.”

  His eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them before. In a state of near panic, she backed away from the bag as he knocked it aside.

  “So you’ve found out, Ms. Annaliesa Cabot,” he snarled. “Yeah, I’m the bad bastard from the wrong side of town. The ex-con who used his fists to survive knives and shanks and blades in prison and still uses his fists to get by, including looking out for princesses. You were supposed to stay away but you don’t listen.”

  “You didn’t tell me,” she hissed past trembling lips, wanting to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. “So that makes you a liar.”

  A cynical laugh cut the air between them. “I guess to a someone like you, anyone who doesn’t meet your idea of honesty is a liar. You live in a bubble, Anna, which is where you belong. Not in broken-down lofts or gyms or seedy motels with ex-cons. You belong with your rich fiancé who presumably fucks you three times a week on his silk sheets and then gives you a polite kiss goodnight.”

  Anna spluttered her retort. “You… you’re repulsive.”

  “Except he doesn’t do it the way you like so you come to me. That’s why you’ve come here after all these weeks, isn’t it? For one last fling.”

  Anna heard the bitterness in his voice but she was too angry to care. She wanted to rage. Rage at him until there was nothing left but her empty heart and the knowledge that her life was all but over. But he wouldn’t let her rage because he had hoisted her in his arms and flopped her on the bed. When she tried to scramble off, his eyes told her not to move.

  He walked away to use his phone. Anna couldn’t make out the conversation, but when he returned, his frustrated expression had her scrambling to the other end of the bed.

  “I’ve rescheduled my date for later. She’s pissed at having to rearrange her day and frankly, so am I.”

  Knowing that he would have someone else on this grubby bed linen only added to her misery. Her feelings for him made no sense. She hated the brute who had women over like they were fast food. She hated his dirty kitchen, hated the way he insisted on calling her princess. Hated his violence on her bottom. Yet every time he touched her, she turned to jelly.

  With a sigh, he sat down on the end of the bed. “What are you doing here, Anna?”

  Crushed of her fight, she told him. “This morning Blake Sutton came to the gallery where I work.” She saw Gage’s brow rise in query. “Yes, I do have a job. Anyway, he knows I’ve been here and knows about me going to the gym. He has photos.”

  “How much does he want?”

  In the voice of a girl whose life is over, she whispered, “Not money. Only me.”

  Anna watched him stand to walk the length of the loft as though needing the space to think. When he stopped his pacing, he ran a restless hand over his head. Such a fine head and profile.

  “He’ll want more than your body, girl. He’ll keep coming back until he owns you. And when Frankland eventually finds out, Sutton will want money to keep quiet. Lots of money.”

  Anna slumped. Whatever happened, she was finished. Moreover, seeing Gage again after all this time had forced her to accept that her engagement was a sham and her marriage would be no better. Her perfect life wasn’t perfect at all and it had taken this man, this criminal, to see it.

  In a rush of longing to tell the truth, she burst out, “I want to be...” She faltered, struggling to say the words. “To be who I am. Only with you can I be myself.”

  Anna had always held her desire for discipline deep inside, not daring to admit it even to herself. She’d lied about her feelings so many times and on so many levels that confessing this one thing—this part of her that she’d kept hidden for so long—made her proud.

  “I’ve told you what to do, Anna. Tell him.”

  Telling Julian wouldn’t make any difference because she only wanted the superb man standing in front of her. A man so scary and yes, so bad. A man she felt safe with, physically and emotionally. And it didn’t matter that he’d been in prison or that he bought his sex. Nothing mattered but now.

  In another burst of courage, she crawled across the bed to him. “I’ll show you who I really am.”

  Tentatively and expecting him to pull away, she ran a hand over his crotch.

  “This won’t change a thing, Anna.”

  No it wouldn’t but she didn’t care about the future because there was only now and her overpowering urgency to please him. To submit. And to submit to him fully, she had to show him. There was a chance she wouldn’t get it right but only a small chance. She had this covered.

  “Let me, Gage.”

  He didn’t stop her when she dragged down his sweatpants and briefs. The sight of his cock, lying against its halo of dark hair made her lick her lips in preparation and when she leaned in to enclose the head in her mouth, he pushed forward.

  “You want it, princess?”

  “Mm-hmm, I want it,” she affirmed, drawing the head through her lips over and over to harden him. She had him erect in no time and when she dipped to take his full length, she could only manage half. Even so, half gave her plenty to work and while she might not be the most experienced woman when it came to sex, she knew how to please a man with her mouth.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” she heard him groan as she grazed her tongue along the underside before enclosing the top again. He grabbed the base. “Oh Christ, girl. Suck.”

  Anna sucked.

  “Do you swallow?” she heard him rasp.

  Anna nodded and he whispered above her head, “That’s my girl.”

  He was hers. He might think he was in charge, but she owned him. Anna drew on him greedily, loving his thick dark thatch, his masculine smell and the feel of the veined, heated shaft pulsing in her fingers. On each draw of her mouth and shunt of her hand, she could feel the tension in his body taking him closer to climax. Pulling back to prolong the bliss for both of them, she kissed her way down the underside to lick around his scrotum, holding his cock to one side while she teased and played.

  He wheezed above her head. “Man, you’re good.”

  A moment later, she felt her hair bun gr
abbed, her head immobilized and as though he’d forgotten his size, he thrust deep into her mouth, rocking her back.

  “Fuck, Anna, I need you.”

  Anna opened her throat, her act of obedience drugging her like an aphrodisiac, his bucks and grunts an affirmation of her sexiness. Her mouth became a cave for his pleasure, her hand a sleeve, his pleasure her pleasure.

  He stopped, groaned, began again. “It’s coming, girl.”

  Anna held still to take him, wanting to taste him on her lips and tongue and wanting to feel him slide down her throat. When it came, it sprayed warm and creamy—squirt after squirt of his seed—so much that some of it dribbled out of her mouth to slide down his cock. Like the dutiful girl she was, she lapped it up so not a single droplet escaped. And when she had finished her cleanup, she couldn’t stop her inward smile of triumph.

  “That was very nice, Anna,” he said softly, still jerking to her tongue caresses. “Very nice.”

  Anna smiled at the understatement. Nicer than Amber? Absolutely.

  With a final lick of the rosy head, she dropped back and without a word, stripped to her panties. Lying back against the pillows, she waited and hoped and longed for Gage. If he didn’t touch her soon, she’d go insane with need.

  His eyes stayed on hers. “Where’s your fiancé, Annaliesa?”

  Anna lowered her lashes seductively. “You don’t have to worry about him. He won’t turn up and challenge you to a duel.”

  Her attempt at humor didn’t work. “Where is he?”

  Anna didn’t want to think about Julian when her body ached for the brute. Casually, she plucked at the sheet to prove that Julian’s whereabouts didn’t matter, which indeed at this moment, it didn’t. “He’s gone on a business trip to Europe.”

  From under the shadow of her eyelashes, Anna saw his eyes cool. “So I guess you intend to cheat on him every time he’s away.”

  Even his rebuke couldn’t ease her desire. “I don’t want to talk about Julian,” she said irritably. “He has nothing to do with this.”

  “He has everything to do with this as you very well know, princess.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked, both indignant and curious.