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I can only use the Kings’ funds for so long before Theo will start wanting to know why, even as trusting as he is of me—I don’t want to abuse that trust. Asha might be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my life, capable of making a man feel in the moment that he’d do anything to have even just her hands on him—but I have a job to do. A job more important than my attraction to a woman who, I’m sure, would happily take my money and never see me again.
—
It’s easier said than done, of course, when I do see her again. I’d planned to go back the next evening, but even with my guest pass from Nikolai, I’m not able to see Asha specifically again for four days before I’m able to be “squeezed in,” as the girl on the phone tells me, a turn of phrase that she means innocuously but instead gives me uncomfortable visions of what any number of other men might be doing with Asha while I’m waiting to see her.
No matter how many times I tell myself over those days that it doesn’t matter, that the only reason it should matter is that the longer it takes to see her again, the longer it will be until I can set the plans in motion, I find myself having to derail a train of jealous thoughts over and over again. It makes sense, of course—she’s popular and in demand, Nikolai’s most sought-after girl—but I’ve never had to wait on the pleasure of other men before while waiting to see a woman who I want. It’s a distinctly uncomfortable feeling that I find I hate.
After four days of trying not to wish all manner of bad things on the men spending time with Asha, alternating between trying to distract myself and finding myself with my hand wrapped around my insistently aching cock everywhere I get the chance—in the shower, waking up, going to sleep—I finally have my second appointment with her. The eagerness I feel as I drive to the Ashen Rose and hand my motorcycle keys over to the valet is only going to complicate things, I know, but I can’t help it as I walk in the doors, as if the spiced-candle scent of the lobby and the knowledge of what lies behind those doors has already Pavloved me into being aroused the moment I set foot inside.
This time, I’m greeted by a pretty redhead at what I’ve come to think of as the front desk, who checks me in and sees I already have a card on file and all of my information in the system. “Everything the same as last time, Mr. O’Sullivan?” she asks sweetly, smiling at me. “Or would you prefer to make changes for tonight?”
The way she says it, as if changes would be unusual, makes me realize that the men who come here must have girls they prefer, a sort of standard setup that they expect when they visit for the night. That sends another of those irrational throbs of jealousy through me, thinking of the same men visiting Asha week after week, asking for the same things, until she knows before they even arrive what they’ll want from her that night. It feels almost intimate in a strange way, something deeper than a random exchange of money for sex, and I force a smile onto my face as I nod at the girl. “The same is fine,” I tell her. I’m truthfully unsure of what I would ask for in ordertochange anything, and I don’t want to feel even more out of place than I already do.
And anyway, I likely won’t be back after tonight, if I get what I need from Asha.
But you’ll still get to see her again if this goes according to plan. Away from this place.
The idea is more exciting than it should be.
I wait at the bar again, sipping a glass of whiskey, until Asha comes to get me. There’s a flicker of humor on her face as she sees me, almost as if she’s won some private bet with herself, but I see the heat in her gaze, too, when her eyes drift over me. “Back for seconds already, Mr. O’Sullivan?” she asks teasingly, and just the sound of her whiskey-and-sugar voice has my cock thickening, aching for the possibility to be inside of her.
I’ve never had a woman be able to make me hard simply by speaking before, but I suppose there really is a first time for everything. The jealous thoughts of what she’s been doing since I saw her last fly out of my head for a moment, and all I can think about is her. It’s as if she fills my every sense, drowning me in desire. I want her, and I have to remind myself that I have questions that need to be asked before any clothes come off, before I so much as touch her or allow myself to be touched.
“Are you ready to go upstairs?” She smiles flirtatiously at me. “You can bring your drink with you, if you like.”
I swallow the rest of the whiskey in a quick gulp instead, letting the burn of it in the back of my throat distract me as Asha leads me towards the stairs and up to the same room that we used the last time. “Is thisyourroom?” I ask her curiously, as I follow her inside. “You have one assigned to you?”
She nods. “It’s more comfortable that way,” she explains as she closes the door. “No wondering if anything’s been moved or changed—it’s all exactly how I like it. And the clients, well—” Asha gives me a smirk. “After a while, they start to get aroused the moment they step into the room. If they’re not already,” she adds wryly, and I see her gaze flick down to the front of my pants, where I’m certain she can see the outline of my swelling cock.
“Seems like you have it all figured out.” This time, I walk over to the bar cart that she pointed out the last time, reaching to pour myself another drink. Anything to slow down the progression of events, so I can think long enough to make sure I ask my questions.
Asha purses her lips. “Well, it’s Nikolai who decides most of this. We just work for him.” She hesitates. “Are you alright, Mr. O’Sullivan? Was anything not to your liking last time? We can discuss your preferences if—”
“You can call me Finn.” I turn towards her, taking a sip of the whiskey. “You did last time, after all. Is there a reason for the formality?”
Her tongue darts out against her lower lip—a nervous tic, I think, but one that turns me on a little more all the same. “You didn’t seem—all that pleased last time.”
I can’t hold back the sudden laugh, half-choking on my second sip of whiskey. “I came harder than I’ve come in years, Asha,” I tell her frankly, still chuckling despite the high points of red I can see starting to burn on her cheekbones.She doesn’t like feeling that she’s being laughed at,I realize, and at the same moment, I wonder if she let me see that at all. A girl in a job like hers must be an expert at keeping her true thoughts and feelings hidden, yet hers have slipped through. “I thinkpleasedwas an understatement.”
‘Unsure, then.” She watches me, her dark eyes curious. “Like you weren’t sure what it is that you wanted from the experience.”
I didn’t have any idea I was going to end up cuffed to a bed, if that’s what you mean.I nearly say it, but I take another drink of my whiskey instead, setting the glass aside as I face her. “I won’t lie and say that I wasn’t hoping to end the night with a good orgasm,” I tell her frankly, “but that’s not the main reason I came here, Asha. I’m not accustomed to paying women for sex, and I don’t typically frequent places like this.”I don’t frequent them at all.She doesn’t need to know that, though—I have the distinct feeling that she’d be even more amused with me if she knew, and I don’t think I like the idea of that.
Her expression turns guarded in an instant as she looks at me, her eyes narrowing. “So why did you come here then, Finn?” She says my name flatly, some of that husky sweetness gone from her voice, although I can tell at least a little of it is her natural way of speaking. I can also see that she’s instantly put up some wall that I’m going to have to work to get past, now that I’ve told her it’s not just her charms I’m interested in.
“I was here the night of the poker game,” I tell her, leaning back against the wall as I pour myself another two fingers of whiskey and take a sip. “I saw you go with Matvei Kotov at the end of it.”
I canseethe way her body stiffens instantly at that, almost involuntarily, as if she can’t help it. “Our client sessions are confidential,” she says slowly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want me talking to some other client aboutyourpredilections in bed, Finn.”
God, the way she fucking says my name, even when she’s irritated. Maybe even more so when she is. As much as I’m trying to focus on the questions I need to ask her and not the growing ache in my groin, it’s difficult—especially standing here in this room, surrounded by all the accouterments anyone could possibly need for a night of pleasure. More than I need, that’s for sure—I’d be happy just to have her under me on the bed on the other side of the room.
“You don’t have to tell me personal details.” I let out a breath, watching her carefully. “But your boss, Nikolai—he works with the organization that I work with. And we both have an interest in finding out more about what Matvei is doing.”
Asha’s expression is carefully blank. There’s a foot or so between us, but it feels like a gulf, her arms crossing over the heavy silk of the robe as she looks at me. “What organization is that, Finn?”
“The Irish Kings.” There’s no harm in telling her that I can see. “I don’t know how much you’re aware of regarding what Nikolai does, but—”
“I’m aware of enough.” She frowns. “He and I were—closer, once. He trusts me. Which is why I don’t know that I should be answering many more of your questions, Finn. If Nikolai wanted those answers, wouldn’t he be capable of getting them on his own? Or asking me, for that matter?”
