Black List_Black Star Security

by Cynthia Rayne

  Instead, Storm flashed a smile, but it was more a bearing of his teeth. He didn’t want to start some shit in front of the club and cause a scene. They were trying to keep this manhunt quiet.

  She winked. “I love seeing Finn, too.”

  And Storm didn’t know who the fuck this Finn was, but he already didn’t like him.

  Butch unsnapped the lock on the velvet rope and moved aside and jerked his chin toward Storm, although he spoke to Lucy.

  “Does he know the rules?”

  “He is able to speak for himself,” Storm bit out. “We’re here to meet with Finn, not to—”

  “Fuck?” Butch offered, his tone rough and dirty. “Whatever you say, buddy. We keep it safe, sane, and consensual at Edge. No means no. And if you meet anyone off the premises, you do it at your own risk. We aren’t liable for any injuries that might occur.”

  “Thanks for the legal disclaimer, but it really won’t be an issue. Let’s go,” Storm said.

  And then he stamped both of their hands with the Celtic symbol. Hadn’t Lucy said something about it being a submissive mark?

  Storm puffed out his chest. “For the record, I’m a pitcher, not a catcher.”

  Butch grunted. “Who the fuck cares? Go away.”

  Lucy dragged him away from the entrance.

  The walls were lined with rich black velvet, shot through with a sparkling substance of some kind. There were lots of hidden corners and couches, off to the sides of the room. Storm didn’t even want to think what kind of stains were on them.

  Ugh. This place is a petri dish.

  He’d probably get chlamydia just from walking around.

  In the middle of the dance floor, a throng of men and women danced to a pulsing, primal beat. They wore very little clothing. It was all mesh, miniskirts, thongs, and booty shorts. Nearly naked dancers hung suspended in metal cages and they ground against each other.

  The sexual energy was palpable in the room, almost like a physical sensation.

  Sweet Jesus. This is like Nox’s mothership or something.

  When he turned around, Lucy was gone. Frantically, he searched the crowd. And then he found her across the room.

  Lucy had closed her eyes, swaying to the music. Her hips gyrated to the song, breasts bouncing beneath her tight t-shirt.

  His mouth went dry. Despite himself, Storm felt his cock hardening, pressing against the fly.

  They’d been close once, but he’d never had the pleasure of being her lover. She’d been a job at first, an asset to acquire, but their connection had become so much more.

  He wanted to join her out there, feel her moving against him. Watching her like this was somewhere between bliss and torture.

  Storm wanted her so badly, he ached, but she’d never be his.

  And he had to accept it.

  Chapter 5

  “I can feel you staring at me again.”

  When Lucy opened her eyes, she found Storm watching her.

  He gripped her arm. “Come on, let’s—”

  She barely resisted the urge to slap his hand away. Instead, she glared until he withdrew it.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He hooked a thumb at the stairs. “We should meet with him.”

  Lucy stopped swaying to the music. His grouchy expression was a real buzzkill. She was trying to forget, lose herself in the music. Over the past few years, she’d learned how to compartmentalize. Music was another one of the ways she coped. It allowed her to focus on something else and control her emotions.

  “They’ll get us when Finn is ready.” Lucy nodded to the balcony.

  On the second floor of the club, there were several VIP rooms reserved solely for very important patrons. Finn hosted private parties for them. She searched the scene and found two familiar bouncers standing guard near one of the VIP suites. Finn had a lot of hired muscle, but while they looked intimidating, they weren’t trained.

  In fact, she’d kicked their asses when they’d gotten into a pissing contest once.

  “Come on, let’s just go up there and get this over with.”

  “This place makes you uncomfortable, huh?”

  Funny. A sex club made him all discombobulated. Yet in Iraq, he’d been at ease. Even though they’d been in a foreign country, neck-deep in terrorists.

  Lucy made a face. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  “Why? Because Finn’s so fucking important?”

  “Why are you being such an ass? It won’t take long.”

  “I wanna roll out of here. Let’s go get this done.”

  “Trust me, it’s a bad idea.”

  “Why?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Think it over, Storm. This is a sex club.”

  He swallowed. “Yes, we’ve established what this place is. So, what?”

  “Finn’s in his private room right now,” Lucy answered awkwardly. She could feel her cheeks flaming, which was ridiculous considering the experiences she’d had.

  “And…?”

  Did she really have to spell it out for him?

  He frowned.

  Apparently, she did have to spell it out.

  “And Finn’s upstairs enjoying himself. Here a hint, he’s not dancing.”

  “I see.” He blinked. “But he owns this place. I figured he’d be—”

  “Doing the bookkeeping? If he was a regular businessman, he would’ve bought a fast food franchise or something.”

  Finn was a hedonist at heart, and there was something almost charming about the way he indulged himself. At the club, he was almost like a kid in a candy store, only with whips and chains.

  “Fuck it all.”

  “Like I said, we should wait.” Lucy was in no mood to see the man naked. Again.

  “I don’t wanna wait around here all night while this guy screws around. Literally.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m exhausted. Let’s get this over with, and head back to HQ.”

  She hated to admit it, but Lucy was tired, too. She wanted a hot shower, and then she needed to get a few more hours sleep.

  “Fine, but it's your funeral.”

  ***

  Actually, it was more like an orgy.

  Sex. It was the first word that popped into Lucy’s mind when she entered Finn’s VIP suite. The space was made for love with its lush velvet love seats and candlelight. Candelabras provided the only illumination in the space. The hardwood floors were covered by thick faux fur rugs.

  Lucy was alternately impressed and nauseated.

  Unlike the sweaty dance floor down below, Finn’s suite was in immaculate condition. It was well-lit, pleasant, and smelled of fresh flowers. All in all, it seemed like a cozy little love nest tucked away from the debauchery below.

  If Edge was a Den of Iniquity, this might be the gates of hell.

  Or heaven, depending on your point of view. Inside the double doors, was an entire space devoted to desire.

  “Hello?” Lucy called, but there was no response. She’d knocked on the door once again, but no one answered. Although, it hadn’t been unlocked so she’d stepped inside, with Storm at her back.

  Around the corner, she heard some slight movement, but no one called out to them. Storm followed close behind her as they explored the suite.

  “Is this a brothel?” he whispered.

  His eyes were wild, as though he feared being jumped any minute by nymphomaniacs. Hmm. Actually, in this place anything was possible.

  “Shh,” she hissed. “No, he’s not a pimp or anything, Finn’s just sexually uninhibited.”

  He gripped her arm. “How do you know?”

  Lucy ignored the question and tugged free of his hold. She didn’t know what to make of his jealousy routine. Ignoring it seemed to be the best option.

  The wall closest to Lucy was covered in an exquisitely detailed mural depicting frolicking nymphs and satyrs in a pastoral scene.

  Good Lord.

  She’d never visited Finn in his suite for obvious reasons. She’d taken a temp
orary job working for him, but she’d tried to keep all of their meetings formal.

  Tried being the operative word.

  Finn had a way of turning the conversation away from business and onto more personal matters. Sometimes Lucy thought he considered their meetings dates.

  Storm stared at a painting hung over the hearth, as though it held the mysteries of life. He raised his eyebrows and nodded to Lucy and she got closer to examine it.

  It was by a French painter whose name she couldn’t recall. She’d seen it in a magazine once, it was called The Turkish Bath. It was a very provocative painting. Naked women lounged by a pool, as though awaiting a summons from the man who owned them.

  It made her stomach curl into a tight, hard ball, and Lucy turned away.

  When she went through yet another set of doors, she was surprised to see even the small kitchenette had libidinous overtones.

  Lucy couldn’t resist snooping. The fridge was even stocked with sexy food. Containers of ripe strawberries, grapes, and melon were in the keeper. On the top shelf were trays of hand-dipped chocolates. Lucy also noted several conspicuous containers of whipped cream.

  She imagined the snacks would be consumed by lovers, either before, during, or after lovemaking. Besides soda and water, there were several bottles of champagne, too.

  Nothing but the best for Finn.

  Storm’s frown had turned to a full-on scowl.

  Next, they came to a bathroom.

  Inside, there was a claw-footed marble tub on a raised dais. To the left was a cabinet filled with every conceivable luxury. Bath beads, bubble bath, soaps, lotions, and massage oils. There was a rack on the right containing fluffy white towels and washcloths. Two hooks on the back of the door held two black satin bathrobes.

  Lucy was ready to move in. After I bleach the place, of course.

  “Just so I’m clear, you haven’t been in here before?”

  “What?” Lucy asked, distractedly. Snooping around was surprisingly fun.

  “You’re taking everything in,” Storm said. “So, you haven’t been in here before, with Finn, I mean.”

  “Of course not. “

  He sighed.

  Was he relieved? Or playacting?

  And when Lucy went into the next room, she found a very raw tableau.

  In the very center of the space, Finn reclined on a large overstuffed black sofa, a naked woman on either side of him, one redhead and one blonde. They were pressed in close against his body, and Finn was busily sucking the redhead’s rosy nipples. The two women were drowsy and replete, while he seemed bright and alert as if he’d had eight hours of sleep and three cups of espresso.

  The women seemed to be either unaware or just didn’t give a damn about their presence. Finn released the redhead and she mewled in response but didn’t protest too much. Instead, she slumped against him, idly stroking his chest. He turned his attention to the blonde, kissing her neck while tweaking a nipple.

  Lucy crossed her arms over her chest.

  Storm’s eyebrows shot back into his hairline and he stared at her, as though to say, what the fuck is going on here?

  She shrugged. He’s the one who wanted to barge into Finn’s little shag pad while he pawed women, not her.

  Lucy cleared her throat. Loudly. “Finn? Have you got a minute? We’d like to ask you some questions.”

  Of course, he ignored her. Knowing Finn, he was probably enjoying the audience.

  She gritted her teeth. “We should’ve waited.”

  Storm nodded. “Yeah, you were right. And I was wrong.”

  Finn was incredibly handsome. His eyes were dark and deep. His mouth was full, with a slight pout. Finn’s angular face was dusted with just a little beard growth. His black hair was a wild tumble of waves which ended just above the jawline. His white button-down shirt was open, and his chest was bare except for a small line of crisp hair which disappeared beneath the waistband of his snug black trousers. They were puckered, distended by a massive erection.

  Good Lord, that thing’s a monster.

  “Finn?” Lucy was much louder this time. “Can we talk?”

  “Hello, Lucky,” Finn drawled. A small smile played about his mouth, as he turned to face her.

  The women snuggled against his chest. Finn ran his hands along their bodies, as though they belonged to him. And maybe they did. Finn rhapsodized about the joys of dominance and submission in the bedroom.

  And yeah, he was always on top.

  She nodded. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” Finn turned his attention back to the naked chicks. “Why don’t you both go to the bedroom? We’ll talk by the fire while you get some much-needed sleep.”

  They cooed and kissed him goodbye, as though he was going off to war or something.

  Lucy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Storm watched the whole scene with slack-jawed wonder. Lucy couldn’t tell if he was impressed or horrified.

  Still, Storm’s first meeting with Finn was going far smoother than hers.

  The first time she’d met Finn he’d been lying naked on a chaise lounge in his office while having his portrait painted. She’d averted her eyes before she’d seen anything too risqué, but she’d been forced to speak with him while he was nude.

  And, yes, she’d snuck a peek or two.

  Lucy figured it had been a deliberate move on Finn’s part. He’d been bound and determined to seduce her, but she’d given him the brush off. She hadn’t even been tempted to take him up on the offer. Lucy had spent a couple of year’s being a man’s plaything, and she’d never let anyone have so much power over her ever again.

  Finn caught Lucy’s eye as he was stroking the blonde’s hair. His hand slid down the delicate line of her throat and he claimed her mouth in a kiss which conveyed possession rather than desire. The woman moaned and wound her arms around his neck, seeking more contact with his body.

  Show off.

  After what felt like years, Finn released the blonde and the two of them disappeared into another room.

  “We need to ask you a couple of questions about your clients.” Storm’s tone was tight and clipped.

  “All in good time.” Finn turned his attention back to Lucy. “Have you missed me a rúnsearc?” He’d used the Gaelic term with her once before. It meant “my secret love.”

  Damn, he can be charming. Smoky, sexy words dripped from his tongue like honey.

  Lucy didn’t have a thing for Finn, despite his best efforts. She’d call him a player, but the term was too harsh. He didn’t take relationships seriously though. He changed bed partners, the way some people switched undies. Monogamy wasn’t in his nature.

  And Lucy was avoiding men. Or trying to. Right now, her life was in shambles. She’d worry about a relationship, once she wasn’t looking over her shoulder every five minutes. Assuming she’d come to terms with her mixed emotions surrounding men, of course.

  “Lucky?” Finn prompted, and Lucy realized she hadn’t responded to his question.

  “No.”

  “No?” He clutched his chest in an overly dramatic fashion. “You wound me.”

  “Like I said, we need to ask you a few questions.” Storm was almost vibrating with a quiet rage.

  Lucy ignored Storm. “I think you have enough women seeing to your needs.”

  “There’s no call for jealousy, Lucy. I’m simply having a play date.”

  Lucy couldn’t quite place his accent, but sometimes, she detected a hint of a British inflection in his words.

  Storm coughed so hard she thought he might lose a lung. “I hate to cut this little reunion short, but we’re pressed for time. Mr. Finn, I’m Travis Reynolds with Black Star Security.” He held out his hand.

  Finn’s eyes flicked to Travis briefly, but he made no move to shake the other man’s hand. “Please call me Finn. I don’t have a surname, so there’s no need to stand on ceremony.”

  Lucy barely resisted the urge to la
ugh.

  The two men couldn’t be more opposite. Finn’s little show was playing havoc with Storm’s idea of order. Storm wasn’t a prude, by any stretch of the imagination, but he had a sense of decorum. Finn didn’t. Working with the man was going to frustrate the hell out of Storm. And Finn didn’t give a damn duty or honor. He cared only for power and pleasure.

  Lucy loved having a front row seat to the fireworks.

  “You do,” Lucy corrected. “But you want to keep it a secret.”

  He cocked a brow. “I have many secrets, Lucy, like most people.”

  “How do you two know each other?” Storm asked. “I want all the details. Every last one.”

  Storm didn’t have the right to come off like a jealous boyfriend. Not after he’d handed her off to Hussam al-Din Bitar.

  “I’ll leave it to you,” Finn said magnanimously.

  Lucy answered the question anyway. “Christy spent some of her free time here. I went with her on a couple of occasions, and I did a job for Finn.”

  “What kind of job?” Travis asked tightly.

  “The private kind.”

  Finn chuckled, evidently enjoying the show.

  “And don’t take a judgmental tone with me, as if you’re above all of this.” She gestured to the room around them.

  “I’m not—”

  “Oh, yes, you are.” She placed her hand on her hips. “We both know you had no trouble using sex to get intelligence from me.” It slipped out, before she could stop herself

  Finn’s eyes widened with interest. And she felt a flush creeping up her neck.

  Supposedly, Storm had been a governmental contractor like her. Storm had said, he was also hunting terrorists. At that time, the government had offered enormous bounties for the men, and mercenaries were scrambling for intelligence. He’d offered to help her out, but it had been a ruse. Storm had been looking for a pressure point, so he could push her into working with the agency.

  “I repeat, what kind of job?” Storm asked, through clenched teeth.

  “Not a blow job, if that’s what you’re driving at.”

  Finn smirked.

  They’d a mutually beneficial association thus far, but she wasn’t foolish enough to really trust Finn. He loved to pry into other people’s private lives, but he rarely offered up any information about himself.