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“Do you know he’s accused of murdering a submissive he brought to this very club on three occasions? I checked the records. She was his mistress, at least according to the tabloids.”
I gritted my teeth. According to the police he’d strangled the woman, although I hadn’t paid enough attention to the details to know for certain. Anastasia was right in that it could get messy, including being required to have a lengthy conversation with the police. They’d tried a few times before to force me to expose members, details of encounters, and other unseemly information. I’d refused, which hadn’t cemented my relationship with the chief of police. However, his desired and refused membership was a juicy piece of blackmail I’d been able to hold over his head.
That’s why a phone call from a persnickety detective asking about an incident in my past had caused me to visit my long-time criminal attorney. The entire situation was a pain in my ass. Still, I needed to tread lightly. Dr. Davidson was a valued member, just not in the way he should be.
“The man is innocent until proven guilty.”
Anastasia folded her arms, glaring at me as she enjoyed doing on a regular basis. “You’re making a mistake.”
“I’ve made many.”
Another knock on the door meant a second interruption. At this point, I was glad to break away from the current conversation. “What is it, Zeke?”
Zeke Nelson was one of my bouncers, someone I could trust without question. A former Eagles wide receiver, he had the brawn as well as the brains to be an excellent addition to the family. In other words, he took no shit from anyone.
“Sorry to interrupt you, boss, but a guest of the Blackout Club has insisted on seeing you.” In his hand was an iPad, which meant he’d already checked the information provided upon entrance by this curious guest.
“Insisted?” I threw out.
“Demanded is the word. She followed me around spouting off possible legal action if I didn’t take her seriously. I thought you’d want to know.”
Anastasia laughed. “Maybe you should be the shark tonight.”
“Do you know the reason why?” I asked casually, certain I knew who was making the demand. Perhaps the naughty girl needed to be put in her place.
He grinned as he walked toward me. “She demands to see the club.”
Which meant she wanted to see or experience the kinky side of my world. Or she was simply trying to prove her authority. My balls tightened from the thought. “Let me see the woman we’re talking about.” As soon as he brought me the iPad, the ache in my system increased exponentially. Coffee Girl’s face stared back at me.
Only now, I had a name to a beautiful face and tempting body.
Lark Winston.
She worked for the same attorney’s office as the man I’d gone to see earlier, which meant nothing.
What did was the fact she was Florida Senator Marshall Winston’s daughter, a general pain in the ass for Jameson’s club in Miami. I glanced over the answers she provided before being allowed into the club. It was obvious she’d purposely provided false information on the questionnaire so another guest wouldn’t automatically recognize her name. While the use of Kinky Goddess was clever, she’d likely attracted some interesting men and women for that reason alone.
Why did that create a stir of jealousy in my system? The woman was nothing but a troublemaker. One who desperately needed to understand her place inside a club of this nature. And I was the man to provide a lesson she’d never forget. Why not?
“Let me see,” Anastasia huffed as she grabbed the device from my hands. “Oh, yes. Ms. Winston was listed inDC Magazineas an up-and-coming hot attorney.”
Fantastic. She was also an attorney, not an assistant. That could prove to be edgy, but what did I care? I enjoyed playing with fire.
“And she’s listed as one of the bachelorettes up for auction Sunday night.” When I gave her a blank look, she laughed. “The charity event you refused to attend? And the one you’ve refused to participate in as a bachelor three years in a row? That auction? We could use the publicity, you know. You don’t need to go on the date with the chick you bid on and win. It’s all about the money.”
I took a deep breath, yanking the iPad from her hands. Then I shifted my gaze to the trashcan in the corner near my desk. While Grant, Jameson, and I regularly gave to charities of our choice, participating in an auction had never interested me.
Even if Carnal Sins held auctions of their own, they were entirely different, the charity event boringly vanilla. However, I was suddenly interested. “Let me make a quick phone call.”
“You make everything difficult,” she told me.
I chuckled as I dialed the number, my buddy answering on the third ring. “Yo,” Jameson said, noise from his club in the background.
“Jameson. Am I correct in that Senator Winston had been making your life a living nightmare?”
“You call me at almost eleven at night to ask me that? You need to get laid or a hobby,” Jameson laughed. “Yes, he’s been a pain in my ass. Remember the raid three months ago?”
“Oh, shit. Yes.”
