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Looking or even thinking about men is the last thing on the planet I want to do tonight, but I’m not below plastering a smile for a tequila, or two.
“Let’s get this party started, shall we?” the DJ announces from the tall mirrored booth in the corner, as Eminem’s Real Slim Shady now blasts through the speakers. I turn and give Maddie a cheeky grin, and her eyes light up in amusement. “Shall we?” I say as I hold out my hand to her.
“Oh, we shall.”
The nights we spent reciting his every lyric whilst downing wine were about to pay off.
We beeline to the center of the dancefloor, shaking our hips, our hair flowing around us as we recite every lyric word for word. Clearly, most of these women are of a higher class than us because they all faded away to the sides of the floor, giving us ‘the look’ as they do, obviously not knowing a word of this filthy rap song.
We might be completely out of place here, but we don’t care. Thrusting our hands up in the air, we let out the last verse, both erupting into a fit of giggles as the DJ moves on to the next song. I slam my hands to my knees and bend over, trying to regain my breath. My lungs are burning from shouting over the music.
“Mads, we need to get some booze down us. That wine has worn off now.” She giggles in response, her cheeks flush.
“Si, I forget how British you are and then you go and say shit like that.”
I roll my eyes and spin on my ridiculously high stilettos toward the bar behind me.
My legs start to wobble. These damn heels. The world goes in slow motion as the bar comes closer to view, my ankle folds from underneath me and I start to tumble sideways. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shoot out my hands and brace myself for the inevitable impact of the floor. Pain radiates from my ankle.
My fingers jab into something rock-hard in front of me.Wait, since when did the floor have rock-hard chiseled abs?
An electric jolt passes through my body as a strong hand cups my left ass cheek, creating a burning sensation beneath. The air crackles around me and a strong musky aftershave assaults my nose. I squeeze my eyes tighter, not wanting to face the utter embarrassment. I can feel his chest rise and fall steadily beneath my hands. Bar the squeezing hand on my ass, he is still.
I trail my left hand slowly down, blindly searching for something to grab onto to hoist myself back up. My hand settles and grips onto the hard bulge I’m assuming is the table. I take in a deep breath, ready to make my exit and feel him hiss. No wait, that feels familiar. Realization dawns on me and I am 99.9% certain I am grabbing a rock hard penis, a fucking massive one at that.
I’m as still as a statue, not wanting to make this scenario any worse for either of us.
Okay, Sienna, we needed to get this over with. Rip that band-aid off and run away, far far away, and never return. With all the courage I can muster, I squint out of one eye, trying to assess who I’m dealing with. My hand is still tightly wrapped around a now throbbing cock.
I scan my way up his dark tux, his body a mountain of muscle. My gaze is met with the face of a man who could literally have jumped out of one of my smutty books. His liquid dark eyes search mine. I’ve never seen eyes so dark; it’s like they were piercing into my soul. I can’t stop staring, mesmerized by the hottest man I have ever laid eyes on. His jet black hair is just long enough to grab a fistful of on top, and shaved short on the sides. A chiseled jaw is emphasized more by the dark angel wing tattoo that spans up his entire neck. I hold in a breath and open my eyes completely. I need to get a proper look. As I do, he clears his throat. This quickly slams me back into reality, the one where I still have my hand on his cock, which is aggressively pulsating in my hand.
I snatch my hand back as if I had been scolded and push myself back. The grip on my ass only tightens as he tips me forward, bringing his lips down to my ear. His breath tickles against my sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps. My whole body shudders in response, heat creeping up my cheeks.
A fire ignites within me as his lips smile against my cheek, my eyes flutter closed and a small moan falls from my lips.
Fuck.
CHAPTER3
KELLER
Fuck me, how much longer of this charade do I have left? I glance at my Rolex. Three hours and counting- great. I tap my fingers on the solid gold table in annoyance. If I have to make small talk with one more of these pompous twats tonight. I’m going to end up punching someone in the jaw.
Tonight is the opening night of my new nightclub - well, that’s what this façade is to the media. To me, it’s another step in paying my debt to Luca. I smirk just thinking about this arrangement. My foster brother, turned leader of the largest mafia organization in New York, had the bright idea of faking to the mob that I am taking legitimate steps to repay my debt to them. The small debt for saving my fucking life.
No longer am I Keller, the street rat boxer, scraping a life prison sentence foralmost killingsomeone underground. Enter, instead, Keller ‘the Killer’ Russo, lined up to fight to become the undisputed heavyweight champion of the world. I live and breathe fighting. Nothing beats the euphoria of releasing my inner beast and pummeling the shit out of my opponent. It’s all I’ve ever known. Only now I get to do it for multi-million dollar deals.
I run my hand along the plush leather headrest of the booth next to the dancefloor, tip my head back and close my eyes.Just three more fucking hours, I think as I take a deep inhale. The bass of the music thuds throughout my body. I take a drawn-out sip of scotch, letting the burn draw deep inside my throat, and then I survey the room. The place is filled with desperate women and these corporate assholes pining over them.
A cackle of women stops and crowds next to my booth, giggling to try to get my attention. I roll my eyes and keep my focus forward, ignoring their advances. I’m not in the mood tonight.
They obviously didn’t read the latest bullshit article about me.New York’s most eligible bachelor is off the market.Or even better, they did and they just don’t give a fuck. I am off the market, but not for the reasons they think.
The bad boy rags to riches story really gets them going, trying their luck to be the woman I finally let my guard down for and fall in love with. Just the thought makes me shudder. Most women use my wealth to fund their lavish lifestyle, pretending to be happy whilst I disappear into the night, hunting in the shadows for the Mafia and sticking my cock in the first available hole after. The only women I am interested in are the ones who scream my name while riding my cock and then make a swift exit, never to be seen again. Simple transaction, no drama and absolutely zero feelings.
Although, I suppose that’s one way to speed time up. My office is upstairs and yet to be christened. Maybe that’s something I can change tonight. That polished oak desk would look good with a woman bent over it. The thought has me shifting uncomfortably. Fuck, I just need to get out of this booth. I might have designed the place, but standing at 6ft 5 there is nowhere near enough leg room under the table to sit here all night waiting for Grayson.
The club is pulsating, bodies grinding on the dancefloor, I can smell the tequila oozing from their pores. The lights fade, giving the room an erotic vibe. I knock the rest of my scotch back in one and slam the tumbler on the table. If Grayson’s gunna be late, then I am going to have to find other ways to pass the time.
