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Chapter thirteen
Club Stiletto was a “gift” to me from a guy who’d run up more debt than he could pay. I spent three months remodeling it, then turned it into one of the most elite gentlemen’s clubs in the nation. Almost all of my customers ordered bottle service and there was a two-page waitlist of celebrities itching to get a VIP booth. My parents called it an embarrassment. I was pretty sure they were just pissed off that they weren’t allowed inside. Happy Hour had just begun, and the house was packed. Instead of one main stage in the center of the club, there were seven bars scattered around the room. Each bar had its own pole. The overhead lights bled from red to purple across the white marble bar tops. Deep bass with a sensual rhythm vibrated through the sound system. VIP booths were lined up in a row along the back wall, each one closed off with red velvet curtains for privacy.I rolled up the sleeves of the black button-up I’d changed into and pulled back the curtain to join Leo in one of the circular booths. I’d called from my car on the way over here, asking him to arrange a meeting for me. There was something I needed to take care of, something that I hoped would take my mind off what just happened with Anniston.
By the time I walked in, he was already halfway through a bottle of Blanton’s. One of my girls hung upside down with her legs wrapped around the pole in the center of the table. Her long blonde hair dusted the tabletop while Leo bit his lip and stared at her tits.
“She’s new,” he said as he poured more bourbon into his glass.
“It’s her first day, and I’ll shave your balls with a dull razor if you make her quit.”
Leo was that guy—the hot one who wore glasses and spoke fluent “nerd” but fucked like an animal. I lost count of how many of my girls I’d caught him choking with his dick. They followed him like ducklings, then ended up quitting when they found out he’d dicked half my staff.
He mocked a salute. “Yes sir, Captain Cockblock.” He slid an empty glass and the bottle across the table toward me. “Why are you so wound up? The princess giving you blue balls already?”
Actually, I just finished cramming my dick down her throat. I had her exactly how I wanted her—tears in her eyes while she struggled for air around my cock. It should’ve satisfied my craving. I should’ve felt free. But it turned out, it wasn’t enough. The beast had gotten a taste and now he wanted more.
I filled the bottom of my glass with amber liquid, ignoring him.
He made a fist and brought it to his mouth, and his eyes grew wide. “Oh, shit! She is.”
I downed the bourbon in one gulp. The rich caramel flavor slid smoothly down my throat. Clarissa—the new girl—flipped right-side-up and started twirling around the pole.
Leo dropped his hand and angled his body toward me. “You want to fuck her.”
No.
I wanted tohurther. There was a difference.
Or was there?
It was hard to tell since my idea of fucking wasn’t the typical sensual shit most people were used to. Sex and anger were two sides of the same coin. It had always been that way for me. Maybe that was why I reacted the way I did. I was angry as fuck and Anniston was completely at my mercy. The power alone was any guy’s wet dream. I never—never—took what didn’t want to be taken, but with her, it was different. With her, the need for control consumed me. Possessed me. How fucking ironic was it that by trying to gain control over her, I’d lost it over myself?
The curtain moved, and one of my waitresses peeked her head inside. “Excuse me, Mr. Carmichael.” Her cheeks flushed pink when I met her eyes. Her timid heat did nothing for my cock, not like Anniston’s had. Unlike Leo, I never touched my staff, no matter how hard they tried. “There’s a man here to see you. He said his name is Jared.”
The prison guard.
“Send him in,” I said without athank you. There was no reason to make anyone think I was polite.
A moment later, Jared slid his five-foot-something, stocky frame into the booth on the other side of Leo. His dirty blond hair was cut close to his head. He looked every bit of his occupation.
I poured another finger of bourbon into my glass, then poured one in his. “Glad you were able to meet on such short notice.” I slid the glass across the table.
Jared took a sip of his drink, never taking his eyes off Clarissa.
She glanced down at me, and I nodded. She took my cue and bent over in front of him, running her hands up the backs of her thighs, then between her legs.
There were two things in life men rarely saidnoto—money and pussy. Fortunately, I had unlimited access to both.
“Any day now, you’re going to receive a prisoner by the name of Malcolm Huntington. I need you to arrange a meeting between that prisoner and a friend of mine.”
Lincoln needed a one-on-one with his father. He deserved that. Whatever he chose to do with it was up to him.
Jared shot me a stare. “The senator?”
“Yes. Can you do it or do I need to make another call?”
A reliable source told me this wasn’t Jared’s first time dipping into the morally gray end of the pool. I wouldn’t have called him if I wasn’t sure he was my guy.
I moved my glass away and set a stack of bills on the table. “I’m not here to waste your time or mine.”
