“Ask him.”
“I’m asking you.”
I can tell from his impatient tone that he’s used to getting answers when he asks questions.
“Nix!” a woman’s excited voice calls out. “How much do you love this one?”
A thin, beautiful young woman is rushing toward him. She spins to show off the tight, sleeveless pink-sequined gown she’s wearing.
I feel two things at the same time—a slight twinge of jealousy, and disgust that I’m shopping at a store that sells dresses like that. It’s like a how-to manual for looking trashy.
“Very nice,” Nix says, feigning interest.
“The open back shows off my ink.” She moves her hair over one shoulder to show him.
“It does,” he says with a tight smile.
“How many can I get?” she asks, her eyes alight with excitement.
“Whatever you want.”
She claps her hands together and scurries away. I look at Nix with a brow arched in amusement.
“Speaking of sugar daddies…”
His laugh is uncomfortable. “It’s not like that.”
I tuck a black dress over my arm and shake my head. “Right.”
“Really. She’s…much younger than me.”
“Uh-huh. Like five years ever stopped a man.”
“Ten years to be correct and I found her when she was a kid. She’s never been anything more than a little sister to me. Will you be at the club tonight?”
I shrug.
Nix clears his throat and follows me to another rack. “I’d like to get to know you better without Hassan around.”
“Moving in on his piece? You think that’s wise, Nix?”
He moves closer and leans down to speak in my ear, his warm voice brushing across my skin like a tender caress. “I get a feeling you’re not actually his piece, Kennedy. I haven’t figured you out yet, but color me intrigued.”
I have to keep myself steady, no matter how off-balance I feel right now. Nix unnerves me in a way training didn’t prepare me for. I look up and meet his eyes.
“I get a feeling that bimbo is your piece, Nix. So run back to her and break out your charge card.”
A flicker of anger passes over his face, but he rights it quickly. “She’s not a bimbo.”
“Of course not. Women who prance around department stores in revealing dresses asking their older male benefactors how many dresses they can get are usually brimming with deep thoughts.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think I detected a hint of jealousy there.” Nix puts a hand on the small of my back, and a shiver of awareness runs up my spine.
“I’m not—”
“She and I are not together,” he says, leaning down to speak next to my ear. “Never have been, never will be.”
I just nod, unsure what to say.
He speaks again. “Come to the club tonight. I want to see you.”
And then he turns and leaves without another word.
My heart is still pounding like a drum. I’m rattled from having my cover blown. It was stupid of me to agree to go shopping with Amara. She’s just a casual friend I met in a spin class. From now on, I’m shopping online.
I am going to the club tonight, but not because Nix told me to. With Hassan gone, I can work other leads that I have to ignore when he’s around. Leads like Nix.
He caught me off my game just now, but I’ll make up for it. Tonight, I’ll delve deeper into the man who has eluded law enforcement and start building my file on him.
Nix wants to learn more about me, but in doing so, he’ll be revealing himself to me, too. He’ll find out that two can play at this game.
* * *
Tonight, I’m platinum blond. With my fair skin, it’s not my best look, but I’ve been eyeing this long wig of tiny braids since Liv bought it. It reminds me of the girl I was before I died it black.
I’m wearing black leather pants, a red bustier, and strappy black Manolos. As soon as I walk into the club, a couple guys in suits follow me to the bar.
“Hey, gorgeous,” one of them says. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thanks.”
“You sure?” the other one asks. “We’ve got a weakness for blondes.”
“She’s sure.” Nix’s deep voice sounds behind me, and I turn.
“Yeah, okay,” one of the men mutters.
They walk away, and Nix puts a hand on the bar, his body facing me. “So what’s your pleasure…Eva?”
“Sprite.”
He laughs like we’re the only two people in the room. It’s a rich, truly amused sound that’s accompanied by a wide grin.
“Now that, I was not expecting,” he says. “Bustier, tats, a pound of eye makeup, and she’ll have a Sprite.”
“I get that you think you’ve got me pegged, Beantown, but trust me, you don’t.”
The amusement fades from his eyes as he signals the bartender, who walks over immediately.
“A Sprite and a bourbon,” Nix says, not even looking at him.
Nix is holding my gaze, neither of us willing to look away. After a few seconds of silence between us, he says, “Why’d you call me that?”
I shrug. “I can tell you’re from Boston by your voice.”
“I dropped that accent a long time ago,” he says, turning to face the bar.
This is a sore subject for him. It’s clear from the tension in his voice and the way he’s gripping the edge of the bar.
“It’s subtle,” I say. “I’m sure most people don’t notice it.”
“And where are you from?” When he turns to look at me again, the calculating look has returned to his dark eyes. “With a name like yours, I’m guessing you might have picked up on my accent because we’re native to the same state.”
Kennedy. He assumes I’m named after JFK, and he’s right. But I shrug nonchalantly.
“What can I say, Nix? I’m a closed book.”
The bartender sets our drinks on the bar and waves off Nix’s attempt to pay for them.
“Let’s go downstairs,” Nix says. “It’s too crowded up here.”
Like Alex Hassan, Nix tells me what to do rather than asking. I guess powerful men aren’t used to asking. I’d like to tell him to fuck off, but I need to gather all the intel I can get on him.
I lead the way through the kitchen and onto the elevator. When we step in, Nix doesn’t paw me like Hassan always does. I appreciate that difference between the two of them.
Once we’re in the basement, Nix leads me to a couple chairs in a secluded corner. When we’re seated, he studies me, seeming to look for answers he can see written on my face. It unnerves me.
“What?” I ask him.
“Why don’t you like me?”
I scoff. “You mean, why don’t I fall at your feet just because you’re rich and powerful?”
“And attractive.”
“Not all women want what you’re selling, Nix.”
He arches his brows. “And what’s that?”
“A night of sex with the elusive Phoenix.”
“Elusive? I’m right here, Kennedy, close enough for you to reach out and touch.”
I wince and say, “Please don’t say my name in here.”
“Won’t happen again.”
“Listen, maybe you should consider the ego-crushing possibility that I don’t want to reach out and touch you.”
He leans toward me just slightly. “If that were true, you wouldn’t keep licking your lips, and I wouldn’t be able to see your nipples through your bustier right now.”
I laugh and lean a little closer to him. “Don’t flatter yourself. My lips are chapped, and it’s cold down here.”
His eyes darken, but I’m not sure why. It might be anger over his advances being rebuffed. I have to play this one so carefully.
“Do you consider yourself spoken for?” he asks.
“Spoken for?”
“Are you with Hassan?”
“No.”
> “So then…why don’t we get out of here?”
I smile at him. “I’m not going back to your place for sex, Nix.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“What do you have in mind, then?”
Amusement dances in his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust that it’s something good.”
“Trust you?”
“That’s right.”
“You know why I’m going to say yes?” I ask him.
“Because you like me, despite your best efforts at hiding it.”
I laugh at that. “No. Because you asked me. I like being asked to do things rather than ordered.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“So we’re going now, then?”
He stands up from his chair. “We are. That is, if you’re ready?”
His charm is subtle and genuine. If I’m not careful, I could end up actually being attracted to Nix.
I smile up at him and take the hand he’s offering me. “I’m ready.”
He takes out his cell phone and texts his driver. People are sneaking glances at us as he leads me by the hand through the basement. Probably wondering why Nix is with the woman Hassan’s been putting the moves on.
I remind myself how ruthless Alex Hassan is. I may not know Nix well yet, but I do know that if he’s not afraid of Hassan, he’s dangerous, and he’s someone I can’t let my guard down in front of. Charming or not, he’s just a source I’m working for intel.
8
Phoenix
Kennedy tries to keep her cool as we drive, but she’s on edge. She hasn’t stopped stroking the top of her hand since we pulled away from the curb. It’s a small tell, but one nonetheless. Add in her incessant toying with her lip piercing, and I know she’s nervous.
I’m playing with fire. My actions are reckless. Never have I been so careless when it comes to anyone in my life, especially a woman, but Kennedy does that to me. Part of me is working her, but the other part—the same one now growing and needy—wants her for no reason other than pleasure.
“Where are we going?” she asks, brushing the tips of her blond wig behind her shoulders.
“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places to eat.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows shoot upward out of shock. “I didn’t think we were going to eat. I thought we were going to…”
“Fuck?” I smirk. “I’m not that type of guy, Kennedy. Can you lose the wig? I much prefer you with darker hair.”
I am that type of guy, but not with her. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since running into her at Saks. Especially her mouth. That mouth did wicked shit to my dick. Even now, in the low lighting of the car, every streak of light glints off of it, teasing me with what I can’t have.
She peels off the wig and tosses it onto the seat next to her before flattening her hair with her fingertips. “Every guy is that type of guy, Nix.”
“I’m not saying I don’t want to lay you down across the seat and fuck you right now, but there’s time for that later.”
“Maybe I don’t want to sleep with you.”
I laugh at her lie. I can see it in her eyes. She wants me just as badly as I want her. “I never said anything about sleeping.” She opens her mouth to reply but snaps it shut when I arch an eyebrow, challenging her.
When the car comes to a stop, my driver turns to face us. “Do you want me to stick around, Nix?”
“We’re fine. Head home for the night. I can handle it from here.”
Crane nods, but his eyes slide to Kennedy, and I know what he’s thinking without his saying a word. Kennedy’s peering out the window, crouched down to see the top of the building. He knows I don’t typically bring anyone back to my place, but I feel we need to be alone to discuss whatever it is she’s doing and what she’s hiding.
“We’re fine,” I tell him again to ease his fear since he hasn’t taken his eyes off her.
She moves closer to the window, almost pressing her nose against the glass. “Where’s the restaurant?”
I reach between her and the door, pressing my front to her back, and grab the handle. “Up there.” I push open the door and motion upward with my eyes when she peers up at me. “Ready?”
Her eyes slide back to the building. “Sure,” she says.
She grabs her wig and hops down from the specially designed Escalade.
“Nix,” Crane calls out before I have a chance to close the door. “Are you sure about this?”
Glancing back at Kennedy to find her staring up at the building and jostling between her feet, I say, “I got this, Crane. Swear. I know what I’m doing.”
“Not calling your thinking into question. Just making sure you’re using the right head, boss.”
I know Crane’s concerned, but I already checked Kennedy out before I headed to the club tonight. I let out a small laugh. “Be here tomorrow at ten. I have a meeting.”
What I was able to find out about her did shock me slightly, but nothing threw up red flags. Her dad is an ex-senator, and her brother-in-law is now a senator. It seems that Kennedy was the love child of a long-standing affair and was kept hidden away most of her life. A few years ago, news broke about the affair, and Kennedy’s face was splashed all over the newspapers and television. What the hell she’s doing with Hassan is my biggest question. I don’t know if she’s rebelling and trying to make up for her daddy’s issue, but she’s doing it with the wrong man—one who plays a very dangerous game.
“Yes, sir. Have a good night.”
“I plan on it.” I give him a quick wink before slamming the car door.
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I help nudge her toward the doorway. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“What’s the name of this restaurant?”
“Nix’s Place.”
She stops dead in her tracks and faces me. “You brought me to your place?”
I nod as her dark eyebrows pull downward and her eyes fill with suspicion. “Why?”
“I make a mean bowl of pasta. Best in town.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know you very well.”
“Been to Hassan’s yet?”
She sighs. “Yes.”
“I’m safer than him. I promise you’ll make it home alive. That can’t be said about your going to Hassan’s place, Kennedy.”
She straightens her back and puts her hands on her hips. She’s trying so hard to act tough and menacing, but she just looks downright sexy. “Give me one good reason to go upstairs with you.”
My hand follows the line of her spine before I grip the back of her neck, pulling her flush against me. “Because there’s nowhere else you want to be.” I lower my face close enough that I can feel her fast, warm breath against my lips. “And because of this.” My mouth crashes against hers before she can push me away.
For a moment, she tenses, but when my tongue sweeps across her bottom lip and catches that damn piercing that’s teased me since the moment I saw her, her breathing changes and her body melts into mine. I’m holding her face, controlling her movement with my hand resting against the warm flesh of her neck and relishing every moment of the way our lips move together. Kennedy’s breathy moan when my arm snakes around her back and pulls her middle against my erection makes the attraction undeniable for both of us.
When I pull away, her eyes are closed and her lips are still puckered.
“Kennedy, I won’t force you to come upstairs.”
“Yes,” she says quickly as her eyes flutter open and focus on my face.
“I’d like to talk with you and have dinner in private.”
“Yes,” she repeats in a breathy tone.
Without saying another word, I escort her through the front door. The doorman hangs up the phone as we enter the lobby. “Good evening, Mr. Ash.”
“Evening, Troy. Everything well?”
He smiles, tipping his hat toward Kennedy. “Yes, sir. How are you two this evening?” He rushes to the elevator and presses the button, waiting b
y our side.
“We’re well, thank you.” I shake his hand as I always do. He’s always looked out for me and never asked too many questions. “I can get it from here.”
“Have a good night.” He smiles at me before turning to Kennedy. “Evening, ma’am.” Kennedy smiles and gives Troy a quick nod.
When we walk inside the elevator and the doors close, she moves to the wall across the tiny space. “I’m sure you live on the top floor, right?” she asks before I have a chance to press the button.
“It has the best view of the city.”
“Uh-huh. Big car, flashy penthouse with a doorman.”
“What are you saying?”
“You pretend that you’re a gentleman, but I’m sure you bring a different woman back here all the time. He didn’t look shocked to see me for the first time.”
I stalk toward her, leaving only inches between our bodies as she presses her back against the wall. “Troy minds his own business.”
Her dark eyes peer up at me, narrowed and hawkish. “Sure.”
My hands rest on the bar behind her back, caging her in. “Kennedy, I don’t invite people back to my place. In our world, privacy is too important.”
Her back’s plastered against the black paneling, but her middle is forward, pressing against my cock. She can’t move with the position of my body and hands, but her eyes are growing wild and nervous. “Yet, you’re having me here, and you don’t even know me.”
All I want to do is kiss her again, but she’s fighting it. She’s pretty good at trying to hide her emotions behind that smart mouth. I’m not buying it, but I give her some space.
Pushing myself away, I study her. “Kennedy Preston. Age twenty-three. You’re the child of an affair between Stephanie Barnes and Stan Preston.”
Her mouth drops open, and her eyes grow even wider. She puts her hand straight out in front of her. “Stop. That’s enough.”
When the doors open, I step backward and press the down button to keep the doors from closing. “Still want to come inside?” I challenge.
She pulls her lip inside her mouth and stares at me for a moment. There’s a war inside her mind. I can see it in her eyes. As the doors start to close, she steps out into my foyer. “I hope you’re cooking dinner. I really am starving.”
Filthy Series Page 26
