Worthy of You: Book One in The Haze Nightclub Series

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Worthy of You: Book One in The Haze Nightclub Series Page 11

by Kandee Reyna


  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Renee.” He runs his nose along the sensitive skin from my earlobe to the base of my neck. “No one will ever compare to you,” I feel his lips whispering against me as he talks. He bites down on the soft skin at the base of my neck and I whimper, my knees buckling. “There’s you, only you. Come on, I don’t want your water to get cold.” I sink into the tub, the water almost too hot. I feel the stress of our awkward dinner move from my body with every push of the jets.

  I open my eyes to Lo watching me intently, still fully clothed. “You getting in?”

  He shakes his head slowly, “Tonight’s for you, baby. Turn, I’ll wash your hair.” A small part of me feels let down he’s not joining me, but he seems haunted by his actions. Who am I to stand in his way of atonement if it’s in the shape of me in a bathtub, getting my hair washed? He pours water over my curls a few times, soaking them to my scalp, before I hear him uncap a bottle and then begin to massage the soap in my hair that smells of cream and coconut; it smells… expensive. His deft fingers massage into my scalp, rubbing sections of my hair between his hands from root to tip. His movements are slow and methodical and my eyes close, reveling in the feeling.

  “I love your hair, baby.” He tilts my chin with one finger and then pours water over my tresses until the shampoo is rinsed away, leaving me in a bubbly bath. The squelch of another bottle sounds behind my head and then he’s rubbing conditioner through my hair. Starting at the ends, working his way to the top, like a pro. It stirs a flicker of jealousy in my stomach.

  “Thank you. How do you know how to wash a woman’s hair?”

  “My mother was a hairdresser during the day when I was a kid.” Well, shit. “After my dad left she’d work from sun up until sun down. Sometimes I’d come in and help her out during the summer when I was off from school.”

  “During the day?”

  “She worked as a stocker at a department store overnight too.”

  “She was busy.”

  “She had to be.” Anger shrouds his words. I know about his dad, but I can’t say anything; it feels like a betrayal of trust… it is. I push all the thoughts of what Krysta found on Lo out of my mind for now.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes as he washes the remaining conditioner out of my hair. I hear him rustling around in the cabinet while my eyes are shut, and I lay back against the side of the tub, allowing the jets to soothe my muscles. I hear another bottle open and Lo lifts one of my arms, running a soft loofa from my shoulder to my hand, leaving a trail of floral-smelling foam in its wake. He moves to my other arm, my back, my legs and then finally starts to wash my stomach and chest, taking extra time to lather and rinse my breasts. The act isn’t sexual, but the constant contact causes my nipples to bead, and my body slowly starts to kindle a flickering flame.

  “Stand, baby.” I do, and Lo runs soaped fingers through my folds, washing me gently. My body heats against the cool of the air on my wet skin, and my breath quickens as his fingers move past my pussy to my behind. He soaps me there before asking me to sit again and rinsing my body once more with the now lukewarm water. He holds out a fluffy white towel, and I step out and into his arms. He wraps the towel around me, holding me close to his body. “Don’t ever question my intentions for you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, without even knowing I wanted it. I’m an asshole Renee, but you take it from me, and leave me pliant and willing to be everything you need.”

  A wave of emotion runs through my body, his words sinking into my soul. “I need you Lo.”

  He pulls back and looks me in the eye, “Oh, Angel. All you ever have to do is ask.” Picking me up, he carries me back to the bedroom.

  He starts at my feet, trailing light kisses from the pad of my foot, up my ankle, to the inside of my knee. “Lo,” I moan.

  “Shh, baby. Patience; let me make you feel good.”

  “Please, I need you.”

  “I know, I’m comin’ baby.” He continues to lick and suckle the skin of my thigh, moving from one to the next until I can feel his breath, hot and heavy on my sex. My body is on edge, like a live wire swinging in the air, sparking as the end skits across the ground. He blows a stream of cool air over my clit and I moan loudly, I’m so close.

  “Please, Lo.”

  “I love it when you beg, Renee.” He runs one finger lightly through my folds, circling my clit, and then mirroring the motion at my opening before dipping his finger in, shallowly. His tongue snakes out, connecting with my clit, causing me to cry out before he moves again, biting down on my thigh and I cry out again. “Let me hear you baby,” and he moves back to my folds, licking and sucking the soft, smooth flesh into his mouth. Each move of his tongue avoids the one place I want it, teasing me. I’m pulled taunt, ready to snap as he fucks me with his tongue before sliding up to my clit and beginning a relentless assault.

  “Oh, God, Lo,” I grip the sheets, pushing my hips up, keeping the pressure of his tongue on my clit. “Please don’t stop, please,” Quick licks bring me to the brink of what I’ve been waiting for and then a solid wave of warmth crashes over me. It warms me from the center of my abdomen out to the tips of my fingers and I scream my release, calling his name over and over. Somewhere in the recess of my mind, I feel the bed shift as I continue to ride the waves of my orgasm and before I fully come down my legs are over his shoulders and he’s inside of me in one swift motion. “Yes!” The fullness spurs another orgasm to rush through my body. “I’m coming again, fuck, Lo! I’m coming again.” My words trail off into moans of pleasure.

  “That’s right baby, come on my dick,” His pace is relentless, and he pounds into me wringing out the last of my spasms. As I come down, I open my eyes and watch Lo’s face. His eyes are locked with mine. He slows his pace, lowering my legs, and slanting his mouth across mine, kissing me long and slow, matching the pace of his tongue with his hips. Something changes in his eyes; they swirl with more than just desire and sexual need. He starts to pepper kisses across my jaw bone, eliciting moans from me when he nips and sucks on my neck. He’s not just fucking me anymore, “You’re mine Renee,” I moan in response; words not available to me. “Say it baby, tell me you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours, yours Milo.” He props himself up on one arm, running his fingers along the side of my face, his eyes searching mine, portraying things that I’m not sure could be possible, yet. I squeeze my eyes shut, his gaze too intense.

  “Renee…” He buries his face in the crook of my neck, his slow relentless pace becoming frantic, “Come with me baby,” He adjusts his position, grinding against me as he thrusts, working my clit to another earth-shattering orgasm.

  “I’m coming,” I whisper against his skin before biting down hard on his shoulder, muffling my scream. He grunts the first stream of his release, coating the inside of me as an orgasm, I didn’t know my body was capable of, rolls through me, pulsing, and white hot. He slows his thrusts, pressing in and holding his position for a few seconds at a time before pulling out completely, and resting his still pulsing dick atop my clit. My body jolts with the sensation, intensifying my aftershocks. We stay like that, his forehead resting on mine, our heavy, sated breaths mingling against our lips, while we come down from bliss. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me to the side with him, and pulling down the comforter, before slipping us both beneath it and then covering us beneath the soft, cool, fabric.

  “Sleep, baby.” He pulls me against his body, nuzzling his nose in my hair and I drift off into a peaceful, well-satisfied sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-two: Lo

  A quiet knock on my door wakes me, and I slip out from under Renee. Pulling my jeans on, I make my way to the door, checking the clock on my nightstand. It’s three in the fucking morning. This better be good. Quietly I open the door as I yank up the zipper on my pants and come face to face with Max.

  “What?” I whisper harshly, pulling the door shut behind me and pushing him further into the hall. I don’t want to wake
Renee.

  “A call from the office forwarded to my cell. It’s Rey.” Max holds out his phone to me. I grab it and walk further down the hall into the living room putting it to my ear.

  “Rey.” I answer into the phone.

  “My man, what’s kickin’, Lo? Things good with my little brother?”

  “Yeah, bro, things are good at the club. I was calling because I have another problem on my hands that I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Alright, what’s good?” Rey was ready to cut to the chase, business overtakes his voice. Hood or not, Rey is a business man.

  “You heard of Dmitry Tarasovich?”

  The line’s quiet for a minute, the faint sound of a heavy rap beat in the background. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him. Puto’s been creeping around here, trying to set up shop with his girls. I may have had to teach a few of his guys a lesson or two.” If Dmitry has moved in on Rey’s territory, I have no doubt he’s put a bullet between the eyes of a few of them. Rey deals in drugs, guns, and stolen goods, but he keeps his fingers out of the skin trade. It was known by those of us who grew up together that his mother was under the thumb of a pimp for most of her life until she overdosed and passed away. Rey is a good man, stuck in a world of crime and the life of a gangster.

  “He’s giving me some problems. A lot of fucking problems, actually. I was wondering if you and your guys could do some searching underground. Find out what the fuck I need to do to get this motherfucker out of our city.”

  “You trying to start a war?” There’s an edge to his voice. Rey is relentless and afraid of no man, which is one of the reasons he’s risen so quickly in the ranks of the gang that runs the dirty side of our city. He was a good ally to have but could quickly become your enemy.

  “Not exactly on the top of my list of things to do, but he’s interested in buying some of my properties, and has even propositioned me into selling half of my holdings to him. I’m not interested and he’s willing to play dirty to get them. You and I both know if I do, it will only be a matter of time before our streets are full of sex shops. He busted into one of my strip clubs, took the cash, scared my girls, and fucked shit up. I have a feeling that’s only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how far he’s willing to go.”

  “You’re right. He’s one dirty motherfucker. I’ll ask around and see what I can find out for you. I got your back, though. Sex trade ain’t my thing, and I don’t like having it in my territory. I’ve given him warnings, but clearly the fucker is hard of hearing. I’ll be in touch.” The line goes dead, and I pass the phone back to Max.

  “Shit’s gonna get wild, bro.” Max’s voice is low and dark.

  “Yeah.” Is all I say. I don’t need him to tell me what I already know. “You find anything else?”

  He shakes his head. “Not really. He’s been propositioning the police for the past few months, trying to convince them he’ll pay them more and take better care of them than Rey.” He pockets the phone, “Rey’s reach runs too deep and they’re too scared of him to accept.”

  I nod, “Good thing we know who we know.”

  “Yeah.” He smiles and huffs a laugh, “Who knew our friend, the middle school dope hustler, would end up being king of the fucking city?”

  I shake my head in return, “Never put it past him, though. He’s always been one deadly motherfucker.”

  “You’re right about that.” Max laughs and makes his way to the stairs. What people don’t know about my house is that the second floor is just as finished as the first. Complete with a kitchen and living room. It’s Max’s own personal space. This neighborhood is the first I built before my bank account was padded with more cash than I knew what to do with. It’s still one of the best investments I’ve ever made. We’re best friends, and it makes sense to us both to share the house while we build our own empires. It’d never occurred to me until now that one day our arrangement would require a change. That was, until Renee. I walk to the front window and look out on our street. A black charger sits backed into the drive way, occupied by two of Max’s men, there to keep look out for the night. All is quiet, so I walk back to my room. I climb beneath the sheets, pull Renee close, closing my eyes.

  My alarm blares too soon, and I reach around Renee to turn it off.

  “What the actual FUCK is that!?” She groans and rolls on to her stomach, pulling the pillow over her head.

  “It’s my alarm. Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

  She peeks out from under the pillow, “It’s not even light outside yet, Lo. Oh, God. You’re not one of those guys that take like five years to get ready in the morning, are you?”

  I smirk at her. “No, I’m not. You don’t have any morning classes, and you’re off today, so sleep.”

  “Creeper. Now I feel less guilty about having Krysta Google you.” Did she just say she Googled me?

  I pull the pillow off her head, “What did you just say?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  “Nothing, go wax your legs and curl your hair.”

  I laugh, “I hope you found whatever you were looking for,” I say with a wry smile, replacing the pillow and hopping off the bed.

  She sits up and her voice is sober, “I didn’t look at it all. It felt like an invasion, and I figured you would tell me about yourself when you’re ready.” Her eyes slide to the clock on the night stand. “Oh my God! It’s five! FIVE in the morning. You’re insane.” She lays back and pulls the comforter over her head again.

  My feet pound the pavement as I make the first turn off my street. I run my neighborhood every morning before the rest of the world gets up and moving. Running here is a solid reminder of how far I’ve come and a chance to prepare myself for the mess of the day that usually comes. I’m still in shock she Googled me, but I can’t be angry. I did more than Google her. I know she works at an Italian restaurant part time in the evenings, her school schedule, grades, I even know her credit score. I’ve seen the art pieces she’s sold, and I’ve also seen the graphic designs she’s done. Google is shallow digging, so I doubt she found anything dark. But I still can’t believe she did it. There is no figuring out Renee Moran. She’s a complex mix of emotions, wit and attitude. Everything my cold heart is not.

  I make my way back to the house and all is quiet as I come in, so I head straight to the shower. Renee is still passed out in my bed, her dark curly hair fanning out around her, her naked shoulders and back visible above the blankets, both of her hands shoved beneath the pillow she’s clinging to. Knowing she’s naked beneath the covers gets me hard as fuck; what does more for me, though, is the fact that she’s even in my bed. That she’s even in my house. I shake my head and move to the shower.

  Chapter Twenty-three: Renee

  It’s been one weeks since Lo made it up to me for being a jerk of epic proportions. We’ve gone to dinner three nights this week, and he even sat at the restaurant with his laptop while I worked yesterday afternoon and I’ve only gone home to get changes of clothes or pick up something I need for school. He’s crazy, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  “Good afternoon, Anthony.” I say, slipping into the backseat of the car that’s been following me around all week.

  “Good afternoon, Renee. School?”

  “No, not today. My professor cancelled class. Can you take me to Milo’s office? I’d like to surprise him for lunch.” I smile at him in the rearview mirror and he smiles back.

  “Of course.” He puts the car into gear and merges into traffic, heading toward Syracuse.

  We pull up out front of a large, all glass building. It’s sleek and industrial. The sun bounces from each pane, and I quietly consider what it looks like when the setting sun reflects off the glass. I make a mental note to come back one evening. It would be a beautiful painting. I walk into the white washed lobby and am greeted by a receptionist.

  “Welcome to Turner Holdings. Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m here to see Milo Turner.”

  She stares at me fo
r a second too long before snapping out of it, “Mr. Turner is in a meeting right now. Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. I don’t. He’ll see me, I promise.” She looks torn.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you—”

  “Renee?” Anthony comes up behind me. “Sheila. This is Mr. Turners girlfriend. I’ll walk her up.” He gives her what can only be described as an evil eye and she ducks her head.

  “But, sir—”

  “Have a good afternoon, Sheila.” He says, steering me around her desk to the elevators.

  “Thanks, Anthony.” I smile up at him.

  He winks back at me, “Sure thing.”

  The elevator pings and Anthony doesn’t move to step off, just holds his hand out for me. I’m feeling nervous now, maybe I should have called first.

  “I’ll be in the security office downstairs if you need me.” He tells me.

  There’s an older woman with mousy brown, straight hair, and glasses sitting on the tip of her nose directly ahead of me behind an expansive desk. When I step off she raises her head to look at me.

  “Can I help you?” She’s confused by my presence.

  “I’m here to see Milo, uh, Mr. Turner.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” She looks exasperated that I’m here.

  “No, but I’m sure he’ll see me.”

  “Seems to be the phrase of the day.” She says with sarcasm and my back straightens.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Just have a seat. He’s in his office with someone right now, he’ll be out shortly I’m sure.” I look toward the elevator again, but Anthony has gone back down, so I sit in a plush blue armchair in the seating area, butterflies dancing in my stomach. A commotion comes from Milos office, and the door rattles. My eyes go wide, and I look to the receptionist who is doing her best to ignore my presence but is completely uncomfortable with the situation. A few minutes pass of what sounds like a man and a woman arguing in the office, and by the time the door cracks open, I’m having trouble swallowing past the knot in my throat. This was a horrible idea, showing up here. I don’t know who’s in there with him, but I’m hoping it’s just a spat with a co-worker.

 

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