HARD HAND
BY SIERRA CARTWRIGHT
HARD HAND
Copyright @ 2018 Sierra Cartwright
First E-book Publication: July 2018
Editor: Nicki Richards, What’s Your Story Editorial Services
Line Editing by Jennifer Barker
Proofing by Bev Albin, ELF
Layout Design by Riane Holt
Cover Design by Once Upon An Alpha
Photographer: Annie Ray at Passion Pages
Cover Model: Justin Edwards
Photo provided by @Annie Ray/Passion Pages
Promotion by Once Upon An Alpha, Shannon Hunt
All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Adult Reading Material
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is for mature (18+) audiences only and contains strong sexual content and situations.
It is a standalone with my guarantee of satisfying happily ever after.
All rights reserved.
DEDICATION
For Angel Payne, Victoria Blue, and Miss Whit…and one afternoon in Dallas that led to a magic collaboration and this story. Thanks also to Mari Carr, Red Phoenix, Jenna Jacob, Shannon Hunt, and Lorraine Gibson for the support in bringing the project to life!
Thanks also to Kierstin, ELF, Bad Ass Bev, my ARC team, beta readers, and the fabulous members of my reader group, Sierra’s Super Stars.
More than ever, I know that producing a book takes a team. I’m grateful to be surrounded by wonderful people. Thank you!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
EPILOGUE
PREVIEW: BILLIONAIRE’S MATCHMAKER
OTHER TITLES BY SIERRA CARTWRIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
Cole Stewart.
Breathing in jagged hiccups, Avery glanced again at the tuxedoed gentleman. No one else was that tall and imposing, hardened by numerous tours of duty overseas, and—if rumors were correct—some sort of undercover work. He moved his head to study the stage, and the light caught the scar on his cheek. The jagged white line arrowed downward, ending dangerously close to his jugular. Her last doubt vanished. It was definitely Cole Stewart.
She curled her toes in her too-high, too-expensive designer sandals. What is he doing here? She’d been over the guest list for her great-aunt’s eightieth birthday extravaganza dozens of times. The Sensational Miss Scarlet had been a mainstay in Las Vegas for more than six decades and had made hundreds of friends. Because she wanted everyone she cared about to attend her Saints and Sinners masquerade ball, the names of the invitees had been studied and restudied for more than a year.
A man wearing a security guard uniform emblazoned with the Royal Sterling Hotel’s logo, entered the room and stood next to Cole.
Since Avery was behind the ornate champagne fountain wearing a fabulous ornate black mask, she was free to feast her gaze on Cole, the Dom of her fantasies.
His dark hair was longer than she remembered. It was no longer tortured by a military buzz. Instead, strands teased the collar of his jacket. The look didn’t tame him. It simply made him more roguish.
Although Cole wasn’t classically handsome, he was rugged in a don’t-fuck-with-me kind of way. His physique was more sumptuous than ever. Everything about him from his size to his stance promised he was capable of protecting his woman. And she knew he could make one scream from pleasure.
A memory of watching him interact with a submissive lanced through Avery, and she squirmed.
Two years prior, she’d been at a BDSM play party at the home of her friends and renowned legal eagles, Diana and Alcott Hewitt. Cole had entered with his submissive, Gia. Most times when Avery watched scenes, the partners appeared to be in sync, maybe a little in love. But Gia had goaded him. In addition to addressing him disrespectfully, she chose to ignore some of his commands. He never raised his voice or lost his temper. Instead, he’d continued to state his wishes without emotion. Gia had responded, however, to his gentle caresses.
Once he’d taken her down from the Saint Andrew’s cross, he was tender, and Gia leaned into him.
Avery longed to be with a Dom as patient and firm as Cole.
Many times, she masturbated to thoughts of him. Once, when she’d been with another man, she pretended she was with Cole.
About six months ago, she’d seen him again at the Back Room, an upscale BDSM club. This time he was alone. He kept to himself, brooding, detached.
Her Dominant had broken up with her a year before, and she craved a hard hand to soothe her. She ached with the urge to approach Cole. But she didn’t dare. Her Dom had taught her to gratefully accept whatever he offered. Despite her best efforts, the relationship ended with broken dreams.
As she watched Cole across the dungeon, she mentally rehearsed and discarded a dozen openings. Walk up to him and kneel? Meet him as an equal? Ask mutual friends for an introduction? Maybe hope he would notice her interest?
After more than an hour of indecision, she convinced herself to say hello. But the moment she’d gotten close to him and their gazes met, she froze. Even though she was an experienced BDSM player, she’d never had a visceral reaction like she did to Cole. His eyes—charcoal and intense—pierced her submissive soul. Nerves trumped courage. She started to tremble. In the end, she couldn’t force herself to take the final steps.
Ever since, she regretted that night, and she’d vowed to be braver if given a second chance.
Now that she was in the same room as him again, she understood her own cowardice. With his arms folded across his chest, legs braced apart, he was a force of nature.
Perhaps sensing scrutiny, he turned in her direction, and his powerful gaze locked on her. He scanned her body, starting at her shoes and sweeping up. Cole took so much time that her internal temperature spiked. When he reached her face, he quirked an eyebrow, as if in recognition. That’s not possible. They’d never met, never spoken. Even if they had, she was still hidden behind a mask, and she’d traded in her long light-brown hair for shoulder-length blonde with bright-pink streaks.
Still, just like that night, she trembled.
Marie, the party planner, strode through a side door and made a direct line to where Avery stood. “Does everything look all right?” Marie asked, barely glancing up from the electronic pad clutched in her hand.
Grateful to be jolted from her memories, Avery replied, “It’s perfect.” And it was. The stage was set in a retro manner, including oversize square microphones. The band members wore tuxedos. Several food stations were in place with hors d’oeuvres for the wine hour. Around the periphery of the room, tall tables were draped with black or silver tablecloths and decorated with soaring centerpieces crafted from flowers, masks, and peacock feathers. And there was dazzle everywhere—sequins and crystals strung from the ceilings, tacked to the walls—all befitting one of the country’s most accomplished and scandalous burlesque dancers.
Backstage, a number of entertainers wore
gold or silver body paint and nothing else. They represented sinners for the evening. Others were dressed in nuns’ habits or monks’ robes. A couple of women even wore halos.
“Have you tried the champagne?” Marie questioned.
“Not yet.” From a nearby table, Avery grabbed a flute and held it beneath a stream of the flowing pink bubbly. Of course Miss Scarlet had selected a rosé. It had been a favorite since she saw An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. Miss Scarlet said she’d once shared a glass with Cary himself. Though Avery wasn’t sure about that, she didn’t doubt it was possible.
She took a small drink, expecting it to be overly sweet. She was surprised by complexity. “Wow. It’s fantastic.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Seduced, Avery savored another sip before putting the glass down. “I’m betting this isn’t the fifty-dollar-a-bottle stuff that I approved?”
Marie winced. “Miss Scarlet was at the tasting, and when she sampled this stuff…”
“Say no more.” Even though Avery served as her great-aunt’s financial advisor, Miss Scarlet controlled her own fortune. If she wanted to drop five hundred dollars a pop for the best bubbly on the planet, that was her choice.
“We didn’t save any money on the dessert either.” Marie confessed.
Avery sighed. “I’m not surprised.”
“You will be,” she replied cryptically.
“Oh?” Avery arched her eyebrows.
“Your aunt is planning something extravagant. With a cake. Of sorts.”
“You don’t think I should have been warned?”
“I promised secrecy.” Marie pantomimed locking her lips and tossing away the key. “But I can tell you the changes have thrown us about fifty thousand dollars over budget.”
Stunned, Avery blinked. “I assume she knows that?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, we should enjoy every moment.”
A door closing at the back of the room made her turn around. Cole was gone. She sighed in relief, but then a stab of restlessness went through her. “Were there last-minute additions to the guest list?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I saw Cole Stewart a few minutes ago.”
“Who?” Marie typed his name into her pad.
“He was talking to someone I assume was with security.”
“I don’t know him.” Marie shook her head. “And he’s not on the list. No one will get in without an invitation. I’ll chat with Lucy and see what’s up.”
“Thank you.”
Lucy Pine was the Royal Sterling’s head of security. The petite woman might reach five feet tall in her heeled boots, but she was badass enough to take down the hardest of criminals, all without her braid coming undone.
“Anything else?” Marie asked.
“You’ve done a great job. I’ll go check on my aunt.”
“The doors will open in about twenty minutes. Make it quick?” Marie pleaded.
“Promise.” Avery headed toward the elevator that had access to the building’s top floors.
Maybe because of the alcohol or her stupid-high heels—but definitely not because of Cole Stewart—she had to steady herself on a railing when the car rocketed past the spa level, then the hotel floors.
With a soft ding, the car arrived, and she exited into a gorgeous long hallway. She made her way to her great-aunt’s condominium that had an awe-inspiring view of the Strip. Miss Scarlet said she loved lording over Las Vegas. Over the years, she’d seen a lot of changes and mostly liked them. At times, though, she sighed wistfully, still missing a particular dark and dangerous mobster she’d had a mad affair with.
Avery knocked on her great-aunt’s door, and the summons was answered by Francesca Young, the hotel’s concierge.
“I had to see Miss Scarlet in her outfit,” the woman admitted. “We’ve got a busy night, but I couldn’t resist wishing her a happy birthday.”
“And dropping off several bouquets of roses, it seems.” There had to be twice as many in the condo’s entryway as there were earlier.
“Your great-aunt has a lot of admirers,” Francesca agreed.
“She does, indeed.” Once Francesca left, Avery made her way to the living room.
Miss Scarlet was standing on a platform where a seamstress was making final alterations to her costume. A headdress sat off to the side, waiting to be affixed.
Even at eighty, she was a bombshell, with a radiant smile, a fit body, and long legs shown off by slits that ran up the sides of her skirt, almost to her buttocks. A number of feathers had been applied in strategic locations, and a pair of long black gloves were draped over the cheval mirror.
As she’d done almost every night for decades, Miss Scarlet had applied false eyelashes and glittery stage makeup. She completed her ensemble with an artistically placed beauty mark.
Avery leaned in to kiss her great-aunt on the cheek. “Happy birthday.”
“I never get tired of hearing that! In fact, I think I should have two birthdays a year now. I love the attention.” She batted her eyes. “And the gifts.”
Avery grinned.
“Move over there, into the light where I can see you,” Scarlet ordered.
Though Avery shook her head from mild embarrassment, she did as she was told. She spun around then offered a little curtsy.
“Bravo! As I imagined, your dress is perfect, and you are magnificent.”
Avery struggled with the compliment. When she opened the gift from Miss Scarlet, Avery had stared in shock. She’d never seen anything like the gorgeous clingy black gown. It was cut asymmetrically across her chest and had only one strap. The open back plunged to the base of her spine, leaving her exposed. Since the dress was tighter than most of her clothing, she’d promised herself that she would lose five pounds before the event. Those plans were dashed when the Royal Sterling installed a cupcake-dispensing machine in the hotel’s lobby. Willpower had been defeated by a single swipe of her credit card. Still, she was glad she’d worn the dress. It gave her confidence and made her feel sexy.
“Did you try the champagne, darling girl?” In the mirror, Scarlet’s gaze found Avery’s.
“It’s amazing.”
“Isn’t it? Highly recommended. An online review says it has an evocative finish.”
Avery wasn’t quite sure what that meant. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Don’t worry about the budget.”
“Aunt Scarlet, it’s your money. You should spend it on anything you want.”
“That’s not what I meant at all.” She waved a hand. “I’m going to get Rafe Sterling to pay for it.”
“Are you?” Avery had met the billionaire CEO of Sterling Worldwide on a couple of occasions. He was an excellent businessman, but he wasn’t involved in the day-to-day operations of each property. “How are you going to manage that?”
“I pack this hotel every night. And I’m sure he’d like me to sign another contract. All part of the negotiation strategy, my dear.” Miss Scarlet winked, and her eyelash twinkled from the glitter dabbed on it. “I won’t squander your inheritance on rosé, no matter how good it is.”
“You’ve worked hard every day of your life.” The familiar refrain made Avery sigh. “It’s you I love, and I want to enjoy your company. That’s the only thing that matters.”
“Good thing, since I intend to live another forty years.”
With no plans of ever retiring. Not only did Miss Scarlet own a studio where she taught dance and exercise classes, she’d recently opened a museum for cabaret memorabilia. Even now, she was choreographing a new burlesque show to debut in the fall.
“Get the party started, will you?” Miss Scarlet suggested. “I’ll be down just as soon as I can.”
“Marie mentioned a surprise. Anything I should know?”
Miss Scarlet’s sculptured eyebrows arched higher. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, darling girl.”
“That was what
I was afraid you’d say. Oh, do you know anything about Cole Stewart?”
“Who?”
“Never mind.”
“Should I?”
“Not at all.” After giving her great-aunt another quick kiss, she made her way back downstairs. One of the security guards opened the ballroom door for her. She was grateful that Cole wasn’t there. Part of her wondered if she’d conjured him from a very vivid imagination. Or maybe an unstated need. It had been forever since she played with a Dom, years since she’d been in a committed relationship.
The banquet captain was giving the waitstaff a few final instructions. Marie was speaking with the head of security, and Avery joined them.
“Marie tells me you were asking about Cole Stewart,” Lucy said.
Avery nodded.
“He’s doing some consulting work for us.”
Her answer was vague, not that Avery was surprised.
“Do you know him?”
“We have mutual friends,” Avery replied, just as vaguely.
“Is it a problem if he checks in from time to time?”
Only to my libido. “Not at all.”
“Let me know if there’s anything you need.” With a curt nod, Lucy excused herself.
When they were alone, Marie tapped her electronic pad. “Everything’s checked off. Ready?”
“Yes.” Avery straightened her mask. “Let’s get this party started.”
Marie signaled to the band, and they began their instrumental rendition of Frank Sinatra’s Luck Be a Lady while servers moved into position. A couple of the painted entertainers stood still, appearing to be statues. One perched on the grand piano while another linked arms with a nun in a stunning juxtaposition.
When Marie nodded toward the security guard, he signaled to have the doors opened, and the guests began to file in.
Some headed for the bar, others to turn up chairs and lay claim to tables, and a few made their way toward the food.
For the next thirty minutes, Avery greeted guests while wondering what was keeping her great-aunt. Part of the surprise? Miss Scarlet always did enjoy being in the spotlight.
Hard Hand Page 1
