Entranced (The ROGUES Billionaire Series Book 1)

by Tracie Delaney

  He stirred and rolled over. His lids half opened, and he frowned, his expression puzzled as he tried to make sense of the situation through an alcohol-befuddled brain. He muttered something incoherent, then his eyes fell shut.

  I pressed my lips to his in a chaste kiss.

  “What you doin’?” he mumbled.

  Responding with what I hoped was a sensual smile, I said, “Loving you.”

  I caressed his face, then kissed him again. At first, his lips remained still beneath mine, and then he groaned, the sound giving me the approval to carry on, to go further.

  And so I did. I moved on top of him, but I didn’t stay there long. Ryker oozed dominance in his everyday life, and I fully expected that to carry over into the bedroom.

  Hell, did it ever.

  I found myself beneath him, both my wrists clamped together, held in place above my head by his large hand. He stared down at me through hooded eyes, his expression confused as though he wasn’t seeing me. He drew his brows low in what I read as hesitation. I bowed my spine, pressing my chest against his.

  “I’m yours, Ryker. Always have been. I saved myself for you. Take me, please.”

  His lids grew heavy, and he gave a deep sigh and released my hands. He buried his face in my neck and brushed his fingertips over my waist. I trembled from his touch. Swallowing thickly and, galvanizing my courage, I reached down and wrapped my fingers around the only cock I’d ever touched. The only cock I wanted to touch. Ohhh. I had no clue what I was doing, but Ryker’s throaty groan emboldened me. I moved my hand up and down his thick shaft. The fantasies I’d had about what it would feel like, how big it would be, came true with that one, inexperienced fumble.

  “I don’t have a condom,” Ryker muttered into my neck.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s all taken care of.”

  He paused, and I sensed his hesitation. I folded my legs around his waist and arched my back, rubbing myself against his thick erection.

  “Trust me,” I said. “I want this so much.”

  “Fuck,” he mumbled, reaching a hand between our bodies.

  I tensed, expecting it to hurt. All my girlfriends had told me it was the worst pain they’d ever experienced, but I didn’t care. I was ready to suffer if it meant having Ryker inside me. And once I’d given up my V-card, it’d get better.

  But instead of pushing inside, Ryker began kissing me. Everywhere. He moved lower, lower, until—Oh god!—he put his mouth right there. A frenzy of euphoria washed over me, and my moans increased in volume. I bit down on my lip, worried in case my parents or Elliot heard me. I rose onto my elbows, my eyes adjusted to the blackness just enough to make out Ryker’s dark head between my legs.

  A familiar, but much stronger swell built in the pit of my stomach, an impending orgasm, but nothing like I’d ever managed to achieve by my own hands. My legs tingled and went all light, as if I was in zero gravity.

  And then my body fractured, splintering into a million pieces. Sparks of light danced behind my closed lids as wave after wave of pleasure I didn’t have the right words to describe rushed through me.

  While I was still at the height of my orgasm, Ryker crawled over me and thrust inside. He wasn’t gentle, but he was quick. White-hot pain seared through me, and I let out a cry. Ryker paused, allowing my body time to adjust. His mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue parting my lips, exploring every inch. Slowly, he moved his hips, and the agony of having a man inside me for the first time—especially one as large as Ryker—eventually receded to be replaced by feelings of pure joy.

  It’s happening.

  I’d dreamed for so long about what it would feel like to have Ryker’s lips on mine, his cock inside me, our sweaty bodies sliding against one another. And now I knew.

  Heaven. Home. My predetermined future from the second he’d entered my life.

  Ryker was mine. He always had been. All I’d needed was to find the right moment for him to accede that our fates were intertwined, and fighting destiny only made us both miserable.

  Despite my inexperience, I anticipated his impending orgasm because he upped his pace. I squeezed my internal muscles as hard as I could.

  “God, I’m coming,” he moaned, his lips pressed against my damp neck.

  Knitting my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, I held on tight as Ryker orgasmed inside me. He didn’t make me come a second time, but I didn’t care, because this was Ryker—the man I’d wanted for so long—finally in the exact spot where he belonged.

  He pulled out slowly, but despite his care, a twinge of pain caused me to wince. He shifted to the side, and I felt for his hand in the darkness to connect us. He squeezed my fingers. I held my breath, waiting for him to say something, anything. Instead, mere seconds later, his breathing changed, and soft snoring filled the silence.

  I wasn’t offended. Kim, my best friend, had told me that often happened with guys. She’d read it was something to do with the hormones they released during orgasm. Not to mention, Ryker had come home steaming drunk, so it wasn’t all that surprising he’d crashed.

  I lay there in the dark, processing what had happened. Tomorrow, we’d tell Elliot. He wouldn’t be happy at first. He’d probably shout a lot, but that was only because he loved me, and he loved Ryker. In the end, he’d be happy that his little sister had chosen a man who’d cherish her always.

  Ryker’s semen trickled down my leg. I didn’t go and wash up. I wanted the signs of our lovemaking to mark me. I might never wash again. Okay, that was gross. I would, of course, but not tonight. Not until the morning.

  With a contented sigh, I closed my eyes and promptly fell asleep.

  As it turned out, my joy was short-lived. The next morning, Ryker had awoken, his horror at what we’d done evident. I could still recall his sharp, clear gaze glaring at me, full of disgust. His cutting words that, even now, seven years later, sliced through me sharp as a scalpel as he’d scrambled to dress, while I’d strained to hold on to the tears that threatened to spill over.

  “What the fuck have you done, Athena? What the fuck have we done? Jesus Christ. If Elliot finds out, our friendship will be over, and I will never forgive you. Actually, strike that. I will ruin you. You’re nothing to me other than my best friend’s kid sister. You got that? The sooner you accept the truth, the sooner you’ll realize I’m not your guy. Stop pining over me like a lovesick puppy—it’s a real turn off—and go find a boy more your speed.”

  From that day to this, everything I’d ever done had been an attempt to get Ryker’s attention, to show him he was wrong, that we were worth it. That I was worth it.

  Every strategy I tried had failed.

  Over the ensuing years, Ryker paraded several girlfriends in my face. The young, innocent me morphed into a slightly older, bitter me. On the occasions Ryker brought girls to my mom’s house for dinner, I’d do something awful. Once, I slipped a laxative into his date’s drink, and she’d spent the night on the toilet. Another, I’d discovered that cilantro brought her out in a rash, so I chopped some up and stirred it into the onions and peppers we’d served with the fajitas.

  Awful, yes. But I was angry, and hurt, and desperate.

  Fortunately for me, my actions had gone undiscovered and, over time, I grew out of such childish behavior.

  But I’d never gotten over Ryker.

  Unable to sleep, I climbed out of bed and went back into the living room. The freaking babysitter cagily gave me the side-eye from his comfy spot on the sofa. Stomping over to the mini bar, I prepped a gin and tonic, noisily dropping ice into the cut-crystal glass—only the best for Ryker.

  “Mine’s a scotch.”

  I turned around slowly, narrowing my eyes. “Good for you,” I drawled, my tone icier than the frozen water floating on top of my drink.

  Don’t be a bitch, Athena. He’s only doing his job.

  “Sorry.” I sighed, offering a faint smile. “I don’t mean to be rude.” I poured him a drink and took it over.r />
  His smile came slow, his expression smooth and unconcerned with my spiky attitude. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I returned to the guest bed and climbed under the covers. As I sipped my drink, my chest ached from the vivid memories of the night that set me on this course to destruction. Ryker’s untimely presence in the very last place I expected to find him had forced me to face up to one stark fact: running hadn’t tempered my feelings for him one iota. The only option left open to me now was to accept the situation and live with the consequences.

  Good or bad.

  3

  Ryker

  I texted my driver on the way down to the lobby, instructing him to bring the car round front. By the time I exited the hotel, my car had arrived, the driver standing to attention with the rear door open. I unbuttoned my jacket, smoothed the front of my shirt, then slid onto the soft leather seat.

  The drive back to the club didn’t take long. I entered via the same entrance as before, and the greeter gave me a broad smile.

  “Back so soon, sir?” she asked in broken English.

  I ignored her, jogging down the stairs. The smoke was even denser than earlier on, if that was remotely possible, the tar burning my throat and sticking to my skin, my clothes, my hair. How anyone stood being in here for more than a few minutes was beyond me.

  After a cursory glance around, I rang Elliot. “I’m here. Where are you?”

  “Room eight,” he replied.

  “On my way.”

  Close call. Athena and I had commandeered room seven. It’d have been interesting if she had screamed.

  Athena. What the hell was I going to do with that girl? No, not girl. Not any longer. She was all woman. A fact I spent far too much time trying to ignore—and miserably failing.

  Seven years, two months, four days since she’d crawled into my bed.

  Seven years, two months, three days since I woke and acknowledged I’d betrayed my best friend.

  Six months, five days since Athena left New York to go traveling.

  Not that I was counting or anything.

  Okay, that was a lie.

  At least I hadn’t stooped to counting seconds.

  Every time I recalled the cruel things I’d said after she’d snuck into my room and broken down the barriers I’d so carefully erected, I wanted to snap off my own dick. Sure, I’d been steaming drunk, but that was no fucking excuse. I’d laid the entire blame for what happened at her door when I’d been the adult. I should have realized what was going on. It was my responsibility to put a stop to the madness.

  Everyone knew the unwritten code that fucking your best friend’s sister was completely off-limits. Elliot meant far too much to me to break that code—again—and I’d do anything to make sure he never found out I’d betrayed his trust.

  But Athena…

  I inwardly groaned. I’d tried to forget her, to gouge out the memories of how she’d felt when I’d been buried inside her by screwing pretty much anything that moved.

  A futile effort.

  These days, I’d more or less given up on women. I still went on the odd date. Sometimes the night would end with a fuck, oftentimes not, but even when I did have sex, it felt empty. A physical release rather than an emotional connection.

  Pushing thoughts of Athena to one side, I rapped once on room eight and entered. Elliot was sitting on the bed, the girl on the couch, his jacket wrapped around her shoulders. Like a frightened rabbit, she started as I closed the door behind me.

  “It’s okay,” Elliot said gently. “This is my partner, and the new owner, Ryker Stone. I mentioned him before, remember?”

  She lifted her chin, her bottom lip wobbling, and pulled Elliot’s jacket closer around her shoulders as though it was armor. Perching on the arm of the couch, I smiled gently.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, keeping my tone even, my voice low.

  “Kaori,” she replied tentatively.

  I cut my gaze to Elliot. “Get what we need?”

  He nodded, although his jaw remained tight, and his lips were pursed in a firm white slash, a clear sign that whatever Kaori had shared about the running of this place had royally pissed him off.

  “Okay, Kaori, here’s what’s going to happen. Elliot is going to take you to my car. It’s waiting outside. He’ll instruct my driver to take you home.”

  She shook her head violently. “I need money. I must work. I have to work off debt to Mr. Tanaka.”

  I swallowed past a thick throat. That fucker. My clubs may not allow touching, but it still took a certain kind of woman to cope in an environment full of rapacious men. I made sure that all the women who worked at any of the establishments under the Poles Apart brand knew the score and could handle the attention. We carried out psychiatric evaluations on all the dancers, vetted the applications for membership, had the place crawling with security. I owned a number of dance clubs in various countries, and we didn’t have trouble at any of them. Plus, I refused to hire anyone under twenty-five, women with the chops to hold their own if any of the clients did push too far. Kaori couldn’t be more than eighteen, if that.

  I reached into my inside pocket and removed my wallet. Taking out a bunch of bills, I gave them to her. Her eyes lit up, but she didn’t take the cash.

  “No charity.”

  “It’s not charity,” I said truthfully. “I’m not a charitable man, Kaori. But I am a fair one. You’ve spent time with Elliot, giving him information. Here’s your payment.”

  She bit her lip, then slowly, she reached out her hand, her fingers trembling as they closed around the bills. She slipped them into her bra.

  “Thank you.” She raised her eyes to mine. “Do I still have job?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “But a different job.”

  “Different how?”

  I hadn’t worked it out yet, but this girl wasn’t built for what I called close-up client work, even if she could dance. She didn’t have the edge, the mental strength, the ability to defend herself. She was all soft and gooey on the inside. I wasn’t, but there was something in her eyes that drew me in, that made me want to protect her. Perhaps a role behind the scenes in an administrative capacity could work.

  I helped her to her feet. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” I nodded to Elliot. “I’ll wait here.”

  He left with Kaori while I paced. Within thirty minutes, Elliot reappeared. He looked tired. Dark circles had emerged beneath his eyes, and his skin was paler than usual. He closed the door with a quiet click and leaned against it.

  “Where’d you go?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not important. A small problem, that’s all. It’s dealt with. So, what did you uncover?”

  Elliot swept a hand down his face, then rubbed his chin which was dark with two-day-old stubble. We’d both been on the go for pretty much forty-eight hours straight, and exhaustion was beginning to show. Not to mention it was one-thirty in the morning. I could survive on four hours’ sleep, and even I was feeling the strain.

  He pushed off the door and crossed to the mini bar tucked in the corner of the room. Removing a bottle of water, he twisted off the cap, took aim at the trash can, hitting the target with a perfectly timed throw. He drank deeply, then reached down and removed a second bottle, tossing it my way. I caught it one-handed.

  Elliot flopped onto the couch at the foot of the bed. I took a seat beside him.

  “That bad, huh?”

  He twisted his head. “Man’s an asshole, Ryker. Seriously, the dude needs to be taken outside and have his balls crushed in a vise. The way he treats the women here.” He palmed his neck then leaned back. “If what Kaori told me contains even a sliver of the truth, I want to kill him.”

  I didn’t need Elliot to expand. No point in spilling sordid details. We’d encountered this before, although given his pallor, maybe not quite to this extent. There were eight clubs under the Poles Apart brand now. This would be the ninth. Each one I’d taken over
had its problems, initially, but my team soon stamped out any issues. I had a clear business plan, and every one of my managers followed it to the letter. You knew exactly what you were getting when visiting a Poles Apart club. Finding a woman who’d do the things your wife or girlfriend would balk at wasn’t one of them. Watch the women dance, fantasize all you like, but don’t touch. Not if you want to keep your hand.

  I finished up the bottle of water, then nudged Elliot. “Let’s go.”

  We exited the room and headed back into the main area of the club. Despite the late hour, the place was still packed, the bar crammed. I spotted Tanaka sitting on a stool drinking scotch. He tapped his fingertips on the bar. His drink was refilled, but no payment changed hands. Given the state of the books, I wasn’t surprised. The former owner had been far too hands-off, and his employees—some of them at least—were taking advantage.

  I cocked my head at Elliot and made my way over. Tanaka lifted his newly filled glass of liquor to his lips. I got there before he could take a drink, removing the glass from his hand.

  “A word, please, Mr. Tanaka.” I bowed as was the Japanese custom. I was nothing if not polite. “Let’s go to your office, shall we.” Not a question, a demand.

  “Who the hell are you?” he slurred. “No one orders me about in my own club.”

  I smirked. “I think you’ll find it’s my club.”

  Leaving that piece of information floating on the smoke-filled air, I strode away. He’d follow. I had zero doubt on that score.

  I’d already checked out the schematics of the club and knew exactly where Tanaka’s office was. I opened the door and walked inside, settling myself at his desk—now my desk. He arrived a few seconds later, out of breath, his greasy short hair stuck to his forehead. Elliot arrived right behind him.

  Tanaka repeated his question. “Who are you?”

  “Sit down.” I jerked my chin at the chair opposite.

  “You’re sitting in my chair,” Tanaka replied, his English perfect save for a slight accent. An educated man, but still a sleazeball.