A Worthy Opponent

by Katee Robert

  I want to hate the whole room. I really do. But it’s weirdly cozy and decadent and as long as I don’t look at how he disrespects his clothing, I kind of like it.

  I point at the bed. “You had damn well better change the sheets if you want me anywhere near that thing.”

  Hook drops onto the edge of the mattress and, good god, that’s a scene right out of the fantasies I refuse to admit to having. The top few buttons of his shirt have come undone somewhere along the way, and the deep V of his medium brown skin with a dusting of dark hair actually makes my mouth water. He leans back, letting me look my fill.

  To annoy him, I do exactly that. Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I let my gaze roam over the strength in his shoulders and way his thighs fill out those slacks. I save his hair for last. It’s almost as long as mine and thick enough that I’m envious. I need creative use of a straightener and a whole lot of product to achieve the same amount of wave in my hair. Hook’s is all natural.

  And then there are the piercings. I once heard Hercules describe Hook as a sexy pirate and he’s not wrong. Between the long hair and the neatly trimmed beard and the rings he has on multiple fingers and … My attention snags on the labret piercing nestled below his full bottom lip. I can’t look at his mouth without wanting to kiss him, which exactly the wrong kind of mentality to have about this shit.

  “See something you like?”

  “My jailer.”

  His grin only widens. Hook’s perverse like that. It doesn’t matter how many times I turn him down or how mean I am, his response is always to seem downright delighted by me.

  * * *

  It’s a marked difference from the few times we interacted before, when he looked at me with pity and some emotion I never dared name. Peter’s other men either ignored me or lusted after me—at least when he wasn’t looking. Not Hook. I could always feel his attention drilling a hole through my carefully curated numbness.

  I don’t know what changed in those months between my leaving and his taking over the territory. He tried to see me once, but I couldn’t stand the thought of any connection to Peter touching my fragile new life. Plus, I didn’t trust him. Hades might have promised me safety, but if Hook dragged me back to Peter, would he pursue? I didn’t know, so I went the safe route. I hid.

  There’s no pity in Hook’s dark eyes now. No, there’s just pure delight at my snark. I don’t understand it, and I don’t trust it. Even in the Underworld, there were Doms who saw my attitude as an invitation to break me down. I learned to avoid them, but I don’t have the safety net the club offers now.

  He waves a casual hand at the atrocity that is his closet area. “I’ll send for your shit. Put it wherever you like.”

  I sift through the words for a hidden meaning but find nothing. “And then what?”

  “Tonight we announce our happy union in the only appropriate way for people like us.”

  I know what he means even as I try to deny it. There’s only one way to communicate this kind of big change to the entirety of Carver City. It’s possible I’m wrong. “How?”

  He pushes to his feet. “The Underworld.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” I swipe my hands through the air as if that will make a difference. “You said no sex.”

  “I said I wouldn’t fuck you, and I won’t until our terms are met.” He wades into the mess of his clothes and digs through the middle wardrobe while I gape at him. Surely he can’t mean … He definitely doesn’t mean …

  Hook retrieves whatever he was looking for and stalks back to me. He holds out a hand, and I gingerly place mine in his. It’s hard not to notice how much larger he is when his big palm is dwarfing mine. I watch numbly as he slips a ring with a giant-ass diamond onto my finger. It fits perfectly, which will piss me off later, when I’m not so shell-shocked. “What about you?” I don’t mean to ask. I really don’t.

  He laughs. “I have one, too.” He pulls a matte black ring from his pocket and slips it onto the ring finger of his left hand.

  I hate that he was so sure of me that he bought rings. I hate that mine is a princess cut diamond that’s simple and elegant and exactly what I would have chosen for myself. I yank my hand from his. “I’m not going to the Underworld tonight.”

  “You don’t have a choice.” He unbuttons his shirt in slow movements. “Unless you plan on hiding in this room like a coward for the rest of your life, you have to play the game. You know that, so stop wasting both our time fighting over something that you know you can’t win.”

  I watch helplessly as he shrugs out of his shirt. “What are you doing?”

  “Showering.” He kicks off his shoes in the approximate direction of the rest of his clothing. “Want to watch?”

  With how the shower’s set up, I won’t have a choice, and he knows it. I paste a bored look on my face. “I’ve seen the show. I’m not interested.”

  “Ah, but this one’s different.” His hands fall to his pants.

  I almost lick my lips before I catch myself. “Why is this one different?”

  When he speaks again, the amusement is gone from his voice, leaving it deeper. “Because this show is for you.” Hook walks away before I can come up with a response to that, which is just as well because I don’t have a response to that.

  I stumble to the bed and sink onto the edge of it. The moment I do, I get a whiff of the clean scent of laundry soap, and I almost laugh. The bastard cleaned his sheets in preparation for me. Of course he did.

  The water comes on in the bathroom, and I look up to find that just as I suspected, I can clearly see the outline of Hook’s naked body as he steps beneath the spray and tilts his head back.

  Holy shit.

  I’ve seen him naked before. Impossible to participate in the Underworld’s public activities without seeing others naked. It’s different now. There’s no one else here. He’s putting on this show for me and me alone.

  I bite my bottom lip as I watch him soap himself up, running his hands over his body in slow, methodical motions. All the fear and frustration and turmoil of the last couple days switches to pure lust as he takes his cock in his fist and gives himself a rough stroke. I don’t have to see the minute details to know exactly what it looks like. Long and thick and perfect for the rough kind of fucking I crave.

  My body goes tight and hot, and I press my thighs together. It doesn’t relieve the feeling. It only makes it worse. He’s teasing me on purpose, hoping to stoke me into a lust-fueled frenzy that ends with me on my knees and begging. Depriving myself would only give him what he wants, right? The logic is hazy at best, but I kick off my heels and shift back farther onto the bed. Before I can think of all the reasons this is a terrible idea, I drag my dress up and delve a hand into my panties.

  I circle my clit in time to Hook’s strokes, each touch sending my pleasure spiking higher. The fact that it feels absolutely forbidden to be doing this while he’s jacking his hand half a room away only makes it hotter.

  “Tatiana.”

  I jump and press hard against my clit. I have to fight back a moan, but my voice comes out breathy when I answer. “What?”

  “If I walk in there right now, am I going to find your hand in your panties?”

  I start circling again. His pleasure-roughened voice only pushes me closer to orgasm. “Yes.”

  His curse makes me smile, just a little bit. Hook is so much, all the time. It can be frustrating as hell, but he’s not one to play games and pretend disinterest. He wants to fuck me, and he’s not shy about letting me know.

  He turns and braces a hand against the glass, a perfect imprint of five fingers and his palm. With his other hand, he resumes stroking his cock. “Always the dirty girl. Always fucking teasing me.”

  Suddenly, my fingers aren’t enough. I want more. Goddamn it, I want him, and I hate myself for it as much as I hate him for making me feel this way. I try to pull back, but I’m too close. My body has a mind of its own now, my hips rising to press against my fingers.
A moan remains trapped on the inside of my lips through sheer force of will.

  “Get that pretty pussy of yours ready, Tatiana.” He growls my name and, for the first time, it doesn’t make my chest tighten. It sounds sexy and forbidden and, holy fuck, what is he doing to me? We’re not even in the same room, not really, but it feels like he’s whispering directly into my ear. He curses. “Come for me, beautiful girl. Take the edge off so I can take care of you tonight.”

  I come before I can stop myself, responding to the rising desire as much as to his rough words. I watch helplessly as he follows, his strokes becoming rougher as he finishes with a muttered curse I can’t quite make out.

  I barely get my hand out of my panties before he shuts off the shower and walks in the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He hasn’t bothered to dry off and water drips down his chest in tiny rivulets that are the most tempting kind of invitation. If he was a different person, if we were in a different situation, I’d want to trace those same pathways with my tongue.

  The look he gives my bare legs sends heat bolting to my core despite my orgasm. Hook’s one of the only people who knew me when my body was considered “ideal” by society’s standards. I gave that shit up a long time ago in my quest for me. I don’t care what he thinks of my abundant curves and softness.

  Except the way his eyes get hot and he licks his lips is really, really hot. Knowing it’s because he likes what he sees … I’m not immune.

  I’m an asshole in my own right, because I use a single finger to drag my panties to the side and let him see the mess I made of myself.

  He moves a step closer and then another, his gaze glued to my pussy. A quick glance at my face and he kneels at the edge of the bed. “Tell me your safe word, Tatiana.”

  I can’t quite catch my breath. “You don’t need my safe word if you’re not going to fuck me.”

  His lips curve. “Beautiful girl, you know better. There are thousands upon thousands of things I can do to you without ever penetrating that pretty pussy.”

  I don’t want to tell him. But changing the safe word I’ve used for five years because I don’t want to admit it is as cowardly as he accused me of being. I grit my teeth. “Pirate.”

  Hook’s grin is downright blinding. “Pirate,” he repeats slowly. “I see.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Mmm.” He releases me from his gaze and narrows his attention on my pussy again. “Are you ready to be on your knees?”

  If I say yes, if I go through with it, then he’ll fuck me right now. The intent is written all over his face. He wants this as much as I do. More, maybe.

  If I say yes, I lose what little leverage I have.

  “No.”

  “So be it.” He snags the wrist of the hand I used to masturbate and drags me forward. I watch with wide eyes as he sucks each individual finger into his mouth, one at a time. His tongue slides against my sensitive skin, and I can’t quite stifle a whimper. Hook releases me and drags his thumb across my palm. “Your stuff will be here in the next few days. No one in the house will mess with you, but it’s wise to stay in this room until we’ve gone public with the marriage. Once everyone knows you’re mine, they won’t touch you.” He grins. “Unless I ask them nicely and you’re down for it.”

  I blink. He’s moving too quickly, switching subjects with ease when I’m still hung up on the way he makes my skin buzz.

  But then, it’s just a game for Hook. He’s like every other territory leader in this city, moving the pieces about in his eternal quest for power. I’m just a pawn in another person’s game. My only value to him is that Peter won’t let me go. Marrying me, rubbing our so-called relationship in the public’s face, that’s destined to piss Peter off. That has to be part of the plan. A plan I need to remember, because Hook is not for me. He’s everything I very much don’t want in my life. I’ve walked this path before, falling for a man more in love with power than he could ever be with me. If I had a single choice in the matter, I wouldn’t go down it again. Peter was a monster before he was powerful, but that old saying about power corrupting a person isn’t wrong. The more power he claimed, the more monstrous he became. No one is immune to the seductive temptation of more. Not Peter. Not Hook, either.

  If he’s not a full monster now, he will be in the future.

  “You’re saying I’m trapped here.” I carefully withdraw my hand from his. “Is this another joke of yours, because you can’t possibly be serious.”

  “I am serious. It’s safest for you here, at least for now.” He hesitates for the briefest of moments and then pushes to his feet. “Be ready at nine.”

  I manage to keep my temper locked down until the elevator doors close behind him. How dare he? I am not a toy he can use and toss away when he’s not in the mood any longer. He wants a wife, but not until the right time, not until he can use me to his best advantage.

  I drag my hands through my hair. I can’t do this. I can’t be trapped like this. It’s a different house, a different room, a different man. It doesn’t matter. Hook knows my history, and he still essentially locked me up here.

  My gaze lands on the mess of clothes. That fucker wants to lock me up?

  He’ll have to pay the price.

  Chapter 6

  Hook

  As much as I’d enjoy spending the next few days playing bedroom games with Tink, the reality is that I married her to ensure I have everything I need to bring down the largest threat to my territory and people. She is the key to Peter, and all of this song and dance is carefully orchestrated to draw him out of whatever shithole he’s hiding in.

  Yes, I want her in my bed more than I’ve wanted anything in living memory. But that’s a selfish desire, rather than one designed to ensure the safety of my people. I’m bastard enough to want to have my cake and eat it, too.

  I stalk into Nigel’s office and drop into the unoccupied chair next to Colin. “What do you have for me?”

  Nigel takes a long look at my face. “Trouble in paradise already?”

  “Fuck off.”

  He snorts and gets down to business. “We don’t have eyes on Hades’s blocks.”

  “I’m aware of that.” I wave it away. We might have surveillance on our neighboring territories to the north and south—Jasmine and Malone’s, respectively—but Hades is a different animal. Crossing him means losing a priceless resource. No one does it for fear of being caught. That includes me. I rub my hands over my face.

  Tink didn’t come here because she was so delighted by the idea of marrying me that she couldn’t resist saying yes. Peter said something to her to make her think she wouldn’t be safe living outside of the Underworld. I want to know what. She had resources to live on her own. I’ve tried not to follow her life too closely, but even I can’t escape what a success she’s become with her clothing shit. I’m honestly surprised Hades is letting her fly the coop. Between his club and the fact that most major players in Carver City actively invite Tink into their homes to style them, he had unsurpassed access to people and information.

  Now half of that belongs to me, at least in theory. It could be an incredible resource for the territory if we live through the coming conflict with Peter. If I can convince her to stay once the threat of him has passed.

  Despite myself, I think back to the scene waiting for me when I walked out of the bathroom. The little tease was fingering herself on my bed, and all it’d taken to get her to that point was a little peep show in the shower. I grin. Under other circumstances, convincing Tink I’m one hell of a catch, convincing her to stay, would be a fun little journey.

  Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that shit right now. I need her on my side, and I need her there now.

  “I want everyone talking about this marriage. Everyone, Colin. We make sure Peter knows, and I want him to know as soon as possible.” Rumors aren’t enough, though. That’s why it’s doubly important to go public in the most spectacular way possible. It’ll draw him out of whateve
r hole he’s been hiding in. He knows this area better than I do, even after all this time, and he’s got people hiding him from me. If I can’t come to him, I have to make him furious enough to come to me.

  I stole his power. I stole his territory. Now I’ve stolen his woman.

  I turn my attention to Nigel to find a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You have something to say.”

  Anyone else would pussyfoot around. Nigel is family. He sits back and narrows his eyes. “It’s shitty to bring her back into this.”

  Ah. Here we are. “She was always in it. She never got out.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. She had a chance to go straight, and you pulled her right back into the muck with us.”

  I should have known Nigel would fall on this side of the line. He’s always had a soft spot for Tink, so much so that he took more than a few beatings as the result of trying to step between her and Peter. He never learned that trying to intervene just made shit worse for her. He still hasn’t learned it.

  I hold his gaze. “You either stand with me or you don’t. It’s as simple as that.”

  “You know I have your back.”

  Yeah, I do. Which is why I have to take care of this now. Nigel isn’t one for divided loyalties. Doubting me will eat him up inside until he does something noble but ill advised. I lean forward. “I didn’t haul her here over my shoulder and hold a gun to her head while she said her vows. She showed up. She took the bargain. She married me. That’s the only truth that matters. We have bigger problems right now than Tink’s pride.”

  For a second, it looks like he might argue, but he finally jerks his chin down in a movement that’s almost a nod. It’s enough. I push to my feet. “I’m taking her to the Underworld tonight to go public with the marriage. Tomorrow, she integrates with the rest of the household. While everyone is focused on her, you keep sniffing for the traitors who are hiding Peter. If we find them first, Tink won’t have to play a role.”