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He leaned in. “You won’t leave me because we need each other.” He lowered his head and teased my nipples hard with his tongue and his teeth and the cool air he blew onto them. He kneaded the flesh at my hips. “And you won’t leave me because I make this pussy wetter than it’s ever been.” As he slipped two fingers inside me, Roman curled them in and out while he used them to fuck me. “You wouldn’t go anywhere.”
And then he leaned back, pulled away, and walked to where he’d left his jacket on a table. He made a production of rolling down his sleeves and fastening the cufflinks he’d pulled from his pants pocket before he slid the jacket on.
“What are you doing? Don’t leave me here.” I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging. “Roman, if you leave me here, I’ll…”
He walked back to stand in front of me. “Ask me to let you go.”
“Fuck you.”
He shrugged and turned. “Wait!” Then I muttered some words under my breath and waited for him to lean in.
“What did you say? I didn’t quite hear you?”
I smiled. “I said, I don’t need you. I have a vibrator and a professor who’s perfectly willing to watch me use it.” He could damned well imagine that the next time he wanted to fuck me.
It wasn’t like he was going to set me free, anyway. He left through the same door we’d walked in.
Roman
The detective marched through my club like she owned the place. She was stalking prey. A hunter. She had the confident walk, the look. I watched her take in the details. Two bartenders at the left end of the “L,” the rest of the counter covered by three more. Servers wore short skirts or shorts with tops tied under the breasts for women, bare-chested for the men.
She looked up at the window to my office, and I turned in my chair and watched her. I called down to the bar, “Send her up.” I didn’t have to say anything more. As soon as she asked, they would point her in my direction.
If only I had Riley on the screen again. Toying with the detective was good for a bit of fun, much more satisfying with a little accompanying danger.
She knocked on the door and I crossed the room to let her in. “Detective Hall. What a pleasure it is to have you back at Hades.”
Her scoff was one of disbelief. That she saw through my normal charm amused me. “Mr. Hawthorne?” She nodded. “Do you know Lars Alfritsen?”
“I can’t be sure. I meet so many people.” Again, with the smile, again with her scoff.
“I’ll bet. Mr. Alfritsen is the boyfriend of the woman we found murdered. Her friends have directed us back here.” Hall narrowed her eyes and stared at me as if she was trying to see if I had a tell. I didn’t. But she was always welcome to look.
“Huh. Interesting.” Those same friends would be the ones who told Hall about Lars’ bad behavior. I hoped, anyway, or I would make sure someone did. “As you can see, Detective, he isn’t here.”
“He hasn’t used his credit cards or his cell phone since it last pinged in this area.” She gestured to the floor of my office like she had the exact location pinpointed.
I smiled. “Well, I imagine a lot of cell phones ping in this area. And I heard once, correct me if I’m wrong, but when a cell tower has too much activity, it can ping off to another?”
“Hmm.” Her non-committal answer was all the answer I needed. “And you don’t personally know Mr. Alfritsen?” She produced a picture from her jacket. It showed a smiling Lars, hair combed instead of that frizzy long-haired mess he had when last I saw him. Also showed Lars without his trademark scowl and the anger behind it. The photo didn’t quite paint an accurate portrait of the man.
“Oh, Alfie. I’ve met him. Yes.” Admitting I knew him cost me nothing, gave away nothing. Especially since I’d never known his last name and pulled the nickname out of thin air.
“Do you knowAlfiewell?” She was smelling a lie. We went back and forth in our game of cat and mouse. Usually, this kind of thing made me happy, but right now, I was bored. By her, by the game.
I shook my head because she’d gotten to be kitty enough for one day. “I’m afraid not. We met once or twice in passing.” Not like I was going to tell her I beat his brains out the day before he was killed by the woman I was fucking. But for a second, I imagined saying the words.
She sighed and I hid a smirk behind a bland expression. “Maybe Alfie got the hell out of town after he killed the girl.” I couldn’t be arrested for my thoughts, thank God.
“Without using any money or cell phone?” Her tone was clipped. Angry. Maybe she thought if she walked in and asked, I would roll over and let her pat my belly while I confessed.
I shrugged. I absolutely could disappear if the urge struck me. “I did have my financial manager find the girl’s credit card receipts.” I pulled a file from the shelf behind my desk and handed it to the detective. “I apologize. I was going to provide the CCTV footage from inside the club that night, but the Wi-Fi was down that particular night.” Any footage had already been deleted just to be certain.
“Of course it was.” Her disbelief was almost endearing.
Before we could engage further, the door to my office burst open, slammed against the wall behind it, and Riley stood just outside, eyes flashing, breasts heaving. Oh, the fantasies induced by this moment would get me through for a while.
At least she put her clothes back on. “You bastard.” Anger rolled off her in waves. Her rage was intoxicating. As much as her fear and the craving for violence that spoke to her. And I wanted it all.
