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“Come on, man,” he said, trying to sound casual. “You just seem like the type who’d know a dealer.”
“Is that so?” I asked, giving him a side-eye. “And what the fuck are your motives, James?”
“Chill, bro,” he replied, holding up his hands defensively. “I’m not judging or anything. I just don’t have anyone else to ask.”
“Fine,” I relented, curiosity getting the better of me. “How much do you want?”
He shrugged, looking unsure. “I dunno, just enough to take the edge off.”
“Whatever,” I said, taking a sip of my scotch when it arrived. The burn in my throat was satisfying, fueling the fire that still raged inside me from my confrontation with Weston. He’d pay for what he’d done.
“Ever done drugs before?” I asked James, my eyes narrowing as I studied him.
He shook his head, and I took in his lean, muscular body, sharp jaw, messy hair, and simple clothing. In my eyes, he was the perfect fuck: young, dumb, and ready to fall on his knees in an instant. But at that moment, I didn’t give a shit about anyone but Weston.
“Then why coke instead of weed?” I questioned, my gaze never leaving his face.
James hesitated, searching for a reason. “I just need something strong, you know? To take the edge off.”
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Fine. I’ll get you some for tonight.” Leaning back in the booth, I fixed my gaze on him again. “You don’t get weirded out by shit quickly, do you?”
He shook his head, curiosity piqued. “No, why?”
The server arrived with our food, setting down small plates of overpriced, pretentious dishes that barely looked like they could satisfy a bird. I dug into mine with little enthusiasm, my mind racing with thoughts about Weston and our heated moment. I took a large swig of liquor, feeling the burn slide down my throat before washing it down with water.
“Good,” I said, turning back to James. “We’re going to the Kavanagh club tonight to get your shit. You’ll see pussy and ass everywhere.”
James paused, his glass inches from his lips, as he swallowed. “I didn’t take you for the type.” He took a sip of his drink, eyeing me with a new curiosity. “You don’t seem like the one who needs a six-figure membership to stick your dick in anyone.”
I smirked, knowing full well what he meant. My reputation preceded me, and most people knew I didn’t need help getting laid. But I wasn’t a club member, and the only thing I did at the club was my drug bidding, because it was the safest place to do it.
I chewed my food slowly, my eyes locked on James.How the fuck did he know about the Kavanagh club?It was one of those places whispered about in dark corners, a playground for the rich and powerful to indulge their darkest desires. I had done some drug deals there, but they had never formally invited me to join. The thought of Weston in that place, on his knees with a gag in his mouth so he couldn’t spout his usual bullshit, sent a zing of electricity down my spine. My arousal mixed with dark, twisted thoughts of control and dominance. I leaned back against the leather seat, my gaze never leaving James.
“Can you get me in?” I asked, cutting straight to the chase. “Get me a membership invite, and I’ll hook you up with the coke.”
James’ brow furrowed as he took another sip from his drink. “Why don’t you just ask your uncle? Isn’t he a member?”
“Fuck that,” I snapped, shaking my head. “I don’t want any favors from Kent. You get me in or the deal’s off.”
“Alright, alright,” James agreed, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll see what I can do. “But why? You don’t need a club to let loose.”
“Sometimes, it’s not about needing it,” I replied, my voice low and dangerous. “It’s about sending a message.”
This was about power, control, and making sure Weston understood he wasn’t the one calling the shots anymore. And if using James and the Kavanagh club to do that made me a prick, then so be it.
As we ate, I couldn’t help but imagine Weston on his knees, begging for mercy. The thought sent a jolt of adrenaline through me, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. It was a weird feeling, wanting to dominate Weston. It wasn’t in my nature. Even in bed, I never saw myself as a person who enjoyed standing over someone and reveling in their humiliation. But the thought was like a soothing scratch to my back, and I didn’t want the feeling to end, so I had no choice but to act on it.
“Ready?” James asked as he finished the last of his drink.
I nodded and slid out of the booth, then my phone vibrated. It was Kent telling me there was a family dinner tonight and I was expected to be there. I deleted the message and followed James out the door.
Chapter10
Weston
The car’s engine hummed as I gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. Cynthia’s voice seemed to bounce around the confined space of the luxury sedan, driving needles into my ears. I couldn’t stand being cooped up with her for even a moment, but this drive to my parents’ estate felt like an eternity.
“Do you think your mother will be pleased with the wine I picked?” Cynthia asked, rambling on about some trivial detail that made my teeth grind together.
