He starts cleaning his paws, completely ignoring me. Because of course. Not only am I in over my head with Malone, but her fucking cat is more dominant than I am. Great.
I leave the door cracked open and head for the elevator. The foyer is empty, and I’m still considering what I should do when I hear footsteps behind me.
I turn, and the breath whooshes out of my body. She’s wearing suspenders again. Gods, why does that do it for me so hard? Malone is dressed in pinstriped tailored pants, tall black heels, and a slightly loose, light-gray button-down that she’s left half unbuttoned. It’s similar to what she wore the other day, but no less arresting for it.
Malone has a particular style, but when she wears stylized menswear, it’s my favorite. The contrast with her achingly delicate features and the power she exudes hits me in places I have barely registered exist. It’s everything I can do to hold still and not hit my knees as she approaches.
She takes me in and finally nods. “You look good, Aurora.”
I wait for the cut that no doubt will go with the compliment, but it doesn’t come. What’s going on? I clear my throat. “Thank you.”
“Let’s go.” She turns to the elevator and pauses.
It takes me longer than I’d like to admit to realize she wants me to take her arm. I edge closer to her, feeling skittish, and lightly place my fingers in the crook of her arm. We step into the elevator, and I start to drop my hand, but she covers it with her own. “What changed?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She gives me a long look. “You’ve gone from breathing fire to timid in the space of an afternoon. Surely you’re not still sore about my pinning you.”
Yes, but not for the reasons she’d expect. I try for a tight smile. “Why should I be sore about it? I came. You didn’t.”
One of her perfect brows arches, and her lips quirk up a little. She’s wearing a nude-toned lipstick, and her makeup is understated, but somehow that only seems to accent her beauty. Gods, it almost hurts to look at her. She looks away as the elevator doors open, spitting us into the parking garage. I expect to see Sara, but it’s the curvy Black woman from before waiting for us.
Malone motions an elegant hand at her. “This is Luna. She’ll be our security for the night.”
Luna falls into step behind us, and the skin at the back of my neck prickles. I’m not really expecting a knife in the ribs, but my instincts sense a predator, and it’s hard not to turn so I can keep an eye on her.
We take the same vehicle from the other night. I can’t help tensing as Malone settles in next to me. I can’t anticipate what tonight will bring. It makes me nervous, but even I can’t tell if it’s the sickening nerves or the ones that spark right before a truly amazing scene. Fear is a spice like any other emotion, and when directed by a skilled Dominant, it can enhance a scene to go from great to outstanding. It’s such a bladed edge to traverse, though. Push too far and it ruins everything. Don’t push far enough and you don’t drive your submissive to the desired heights.
Malone must know that, because she doesn’t speak the entire fifteen-minute drive. It’s only when we pull up in front of a building with a name I recognize that I realize our destination. Spindle, one of the most talked about restaurants in Carver City. I’ve never been, partly because the waiting list to make a reservation is over a year long, partly because of where it’s located—right in the middle of Malone’s territory.
She slides out of the backseat and offers me her hand. I don’t really need it to climb out, but the motion is a demand, even if it’s a nonverbal one. I slip my hand into hers, trying not to notice how soft her skin is, and allow her to assist me out of the car.
We walk through the front door, and the hostess practically falls all over herself to usher us back to a private dining room. She’s a thin white woman with brunette hair and the kind of near-alien beauty found on the runway, and she’s looking at Malone like she’d love nothing more than to kneel before her.
Something pricks me, an uncomfortable sensation beneath my skin. This woman looks at Malone like she knows her taste. It’s there in the way she can’t quite take her eyes off Malone, in the way she lingers in the private room for several beats too long before disappointment bows her frail shoulders and she leaves, closing the door behind her.
I take my hand from Malone’s arm and eye her. “Is she an ex?”
Malone’s mouth tightens. “She’s an indiscretion. I usually have better taste than to blur the lines between business and pleasure, but I didn’t realize she worked here when we met.”
Met. She means fucked.
The pricking sensation inside me gets worse. “So why not fire her?”
“Fire her because of my mistake?” She gives me a look like she’s disappointed in me. “Maybe that’s how Hades operates, but it’s not how I do things.”
I start to defend Hades, but the truth is that I’m speaking without thinking, and Hades isn’t who I want to discuss. “Did you even talk to her? Or do you just ice her out like you ice everyone out?”
Malone blinks. “There’s nothing to say. It was only for one night, and she knew that going into it.”
I don’t know if that makes it better or worse. I have no right to the jealousy—yes, jealousy—I’m feeling, but I can empathize with the woman despite that. “So you fucked her, and now you come to her place of work and ignore her instead of talking? You are such an unbelievable asshole.”
13
Malone
I stare at Aurora, trying to figure out where she’s going with this. She looks…furious. A different kind of anger than she’s brought to scenes in the past, but no less authentic. “Why do you care so much about some woman you’ve never met?”
“Because it’s not right. You move through life, taking what you want and not caring about the consequences. It’s cruel.”
Now, I’m truly confused, but I manage to keep my cold expression in place. “Aurora.”
But she’s not listening. “Just because you’re the most powerful one in the room doesn’t give you the right to stomp on people weaker than you. Doing so doesn’t make you strong. It makes you a monster.”
A monster.
Is that really what she thinks of me? She’s not exactly wrong, but it stings nonetheless. “You seem to think you know a lot about me. Please, do continue to tell me more about myself.”
She opens her mouth and seems to sense the trap before she manages to blunder right into it. I give her a moment to sit in that knowledge and lean in. “I would never dream of policing you about how you interact with your exes and fuck buddies and clients. And you say I’m the cruel one.”
“That’s not fair.” She drops her gaze and clasps her hands in front of her. “This is a two-week assignation.”
“Yes, it is. Which also falls under my point.”
Aurora wrings her fingers in a way that makes me want to grab her hands before she does herself harm. I manage to resist the impulse, but only for a moment. I take her hands and extract them from each other. “Use your words instead of doing this.”
“I hate you.”
“Yes, you keep saying that.” It might even be true. She certainly looks at me with loathing from time to time. I’m more than aware of how a person can hold two feelings simultaneously. It’s complicated and messy, but that’s humanity. “That’s not why you’re doing this to your hands.”
Aurora keeps staring down, as if she can divine meaning from the wood floor beneath our feet. I study her, trying to understand what the hell is going on. She’s never had a problem speaking her mind to this point. I go back over the last few minutes since arriving at the restaurant, how Aurora tensed up, her harsh words… It all started around Genevieve. I blink. “Are you jealous?”
“No, of course not. Don’t be absurd.” The words rush out of her, tumbling over each other. Lying to me.
She’s jealous.
I don’t know why that knowledge shocks me. Auro
ra is a free spirit in every sense of the word. I’m nearly one hundred percent certain that even if she ends up in a relationship, she’ll remain polyamorous. Trying to confine her to a monogamous relationship would be like trying to box in the wind. Impossible.
I lift her hand and drag my thumb over her knuckles. The same knuckles responsible for the way my jaw still aches. “Is it Genevieve in particular or the thought of sharing that bothers you?”
“None of it bothers me because I’m not jealous. I simply don’t like the way you treat people.”
“Mmhmm.” I tug her toward the low table. Spindle uses cushions instead of chairs, and I urge Aurora down onto one before taking the seat next to her. She’s tense enough to shatter, her long legs curled beneath her. The position makes her dress ride up to truly indecent heights, but I push away the lust that rises in response. There will be plenty of time for that later.
I don’t know why I can’t let it go. This assignation is about fucking, and she’s only mine for another twelve days. But that’s the stumbling block in my head. Temporary or not, she is mine for this duration. I can’t deny the instincts demanding I take care of what’s mine. Even this prickly woman bristling next to me. Especially her.
I prop myself back on my hands and watch her. “I have no problem sharing, but I’m not particularly free with my charms when I’m with someone.”
Aurora very carefully doesn’t look at me. “What are you saying?”
“I may invite someone to scene with us and play with you, but for the duration of this, I won’t be with anyone else.” It’s not a reassurance I’ve ever had to make before. Oh, I’ve dated here and there over the years, but my position of power complicates things to the point where it’s barely worth it. Either people look at me and assume they can use their proximity to me to boost their own power, or if they answer to me in some way, there’s too much power imbalance for a true relationship to thrive. I may be a Domme, but I have no desire to do it all the time.
People don’t worry about these types of negotiations overmuch when it comes to a single scene, but I find myself wanting to reassure Aurora. “Unless you don’t want to be shared.”
She manages a faint smile. “I think you’ve watched me enough to know I really like being shared.”
“Yes.” Against my better judgement, I can’t help wondering what it would look like if she were mine in truth. I’m possessive, but I’m not jealous. A strange distinction, maybe, but an important one. If she wanted to stay on in the Underworld, I’d hardly stand in her way…
What am I thinking?
Keeping Aurora?
Absurd. This woman isn’t for keeping, not for me. She doesn’t even like me. I may admire her in a strange sort of way, but she’s more of a handful than I want to take on when I’m already dealing with so much on any given day.
Aurora stares at the table for a few seconds. “You’re the one who organized this contract. If you want to bang your way through Carver City during it, that’s your right.”
But she wouldn’t like it. For someone normally so skilled at hiding her true self, she’s shit at it right now. I resist the urge to take her hands, but only barely. “Like I said, I prefer to take my partners on a singular basis.” It’s how I’ve always been. Group play is one thing, and fun for spice, but I’m not polyamorous. It’s just not how I operate. “I won’t be with anyone else while you’re here.”
She exhales slowly. “I really dislike how I feel around you.”
“Are you surprised by that?” This conversation feels strange and almost stilted, but I’m reluctant to move on. Aurora is still off, but I can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t believe me or for some other reason. I’m not like Ursa, able to use kindness and a soft touch to coax even the most stubborn person into doing whatever she wants. I am a blade, sharp and cold and just as likely to kill as to protect. “Though I didn’t expect you to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
I give her the look that statement deserves. “No lies, Aurora.”
She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Look, I don’t get it, either. I’m not normally the jealous type. I really, really resent it when other people get jealous when they’re with me, too, so this feels really hypocritical and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“You know better.” She can’t just drop a line like that and expect me to move on without comment. I idly nudge a knife that was slightly out of place until it lines up perfectly with the spoon beside it. I know she’s dated over the years. Rumors fly in Carver City, especially when one spends time in the Underworld. Which is how I know that, in a fit of jealous rage, Aurora’s last boyfriend tried to barge his way into the club one night when she was working. “One would think that anyone who dates you knows what they’re signing up for.” Not being her exclusive partner.
“One would think.” She keeps her eyes on a spot on the floor. “But unfortunately you were right the other night when you said that the very thing that draws them to me is the thing they can’t deal with once we’re in a relationship. Oliver liked the novelty of having a professional submissive as his girlfriend, until he realized I wasn’t going to take sex off the table with my clients. Hazel said she didn’t care about my job at all, but the longer we dated, the more she demanded to know how she stacked up against the other people I was sleeping with. And Finn…” She sighs. “Well, Finn was a mistake.”
The ache in her voice ignites one in my chest. Aurora is one hell of a prize, yes, but she deserves so much better than to be treated like she has. “You have terrible taste in partners.”
At that, she finally looks at me, her eyes lighting up with anger. “Shall we start throwing stones? Because you haven’t dated anyone seriously since you’ve been a territory leader.”
“We’re not talking about me.” But it feels strange to pull forth an ugly truth from her without answering in kind. “The answer to that is in the statement. I am territory leader. I can’t afford to pick the wrong partner, and after spending twenty years solidifying my base and building up a foundation for the people here, it’s easier to just…not date. I get my needs met in other ways.” In the Underworld, mostly, though I occasionally do indulge outside the club.
Aurora lifts her chin. “I’ve come to the same conclusion for similar reasons.”
I don’t ask her if it gets lonely. I already know the answer, don’t I? Sex is wonderful, kink is equally wonderful, but there’s a gap there that sometimes I suspect will stay forever. That kind of intimacy that comes with trust and caring like my parents had. I tell myself it’s simply not in the cards for me, but the truth is that some days I wish it was.
We lapse into silence as the door opens and the server appears. He’s a nice-looking Hispanic man with close-cropped hair and, if I’m not mistaken, some artfully subtle eyeliner. “Thank you for joining us tonight. We operate the private rooms a little differently than the open seating. I’ll take your drink orders now, and when I come back, I’ll take your food orders. After that, there’s a button in the center of your table that you can push if you need anything, but otherwise I won’t interrupt you.” He gives us an easy smile. “What can I get you to drink?”
I originally had no intention of pulling a ridiculous move like ordering for Aurora, but I don’t like this uncertain ground we’re standing on. Better to go back to her bratty submissive role than to continue on with this awkward conversation.
I speak before she has a chance to. “We’ll have merlot; the one I usually order. Bring water as well.”
“Of course.” The server leaves as quickly as he arrived.
“I didn’t want wine.”
I almost smile at the prickliness in her voice. There you are. “Yes, you did. You’ll like this blend.”
“It’s incredibly creepy that you think you know so much about me.” She glares. “What? Do you have a file on me somewhere with all my favorite things?”
“No need. I pay attention.” I all
ow myself to look at her. Gods, Aurora really is magnificent. She’s got a flawless kind of beauty that draws predators and protectors alike, but it’s the core of pure flame that makes my mouth water. “But people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones when it comes to keeping files on potential enemies.”
She holds my gaze, and I like that she doesn’t get flustered in response. “If you were Hades, you’d do the same thing.”
I already do the same thing. The first task I took on when arriving in Carver City was evaluating the territory leaders and the territories themselves for risk and potential. The city is mostly stable at this point, but I still keep an eye on things. No matter what others might think of me, war is only profitable to weapons dealers and leaders with weak holds on their people. I am neither.
I lean forward and enjoy the way her gaze skates down the exposed V of my shirt. “And what does my file say?”
“You’re a good leader.” She says it like it pisses her off. “Your people both aboveboard and below are happy and taken care of. You’re also particularly vicious with your enemies and prone to making examples.”
I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve had to make an example of anyone, but that’s the point. I came into power brutally, but now those measures are the exception rather than the rule. I shrug. “It’s how I was raised.”
“An Amazon.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you stay in Sabine Valley?”
“I wanted to rule.” My tone is off, but I can’t seem to help it. I have never once questioned that my sister would take on the role of leader when our mother stepped down. I never once doubted her ability to lead. Until now. They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, but I can’t see what alternate path would have been better. Should I have staged a coup and destabilized the community generations have fought and worked to bring to power and keep safe? Turned my back on my sister, whom I love?
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