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He’s pissed, while the smile on Aliana’s face holds relief.
“You know what I’m going to ask for. I want everything on them.” For a moment, I glance at Kray and find him watching the scene with anger. Jealousy burns in his dark eyes. “Are you okay?”
At six foot five and two hundred and forty pounds, he’s a wall, Kray Timmons is an ex-MMA fighter turned private investigator due to his connections with me. I saved his little brother’s life; the sixteen-year-old was caught at the wrong place, wrong time, and at the center of a dispute he had no business in.
So instead of taking his stepfather’s words and pinning the kid with stealing and selling for his personal gain, I strangled his mother’s handler until he confessed. I also let the brothers decide his fate and then made the body disappear.
Kray’s loyalty has been infallible since then, and after breaking his leg in his last match a year ago, he became my eyes and ears here. My employee.
Because while Casper is the head of the beast, I’m the body.
A body that strikes to protect.
“Yes.” It’s a bit terse, but the look I give him is enough for his expression to quickly turn apologetic. He’s angry with the woman hugging the arsehole that came to see Aliana. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen him around, and I know one of the rat holes he crawls out from. You’ll have it by tomorrow.”
However, the scowl is back when he turns to watch them leave. The men in suits move in closer to the pair, and his clenched hands are proof of a history I give no fucks about as long as it doesn’t interfere.
“Thank you,” I say with a nod before walking toward the bar, my eyes set on her. I’m taking in her smooth tan skin, how the LED lighting bounces off her flesh while highlighting the sinful body she’s swaying. There’s a drink in her hand while she dances, nearly giggling as the unwanted arse is led away by the woman Timmons knows with the guards a few steps behind.
Who is she to Kray? But more importantly, who is this wanker to Aliana?
A question for another time as those gorgeous eyes meet mine from across the room, and pause. There’s surprise in those sweet orbs and a small grin on her lips, but what I find bloody mouthwatering is the hint of pink that quickly blooms across her cheeks.
Her eyes roam my face and then lower, and I like the way they feel. Like a fucking delicious sweep of a finger down my skin, but I break the stare as I pause just beside her on an empty stool. Aliana watches me while the bartender comes over, a man who winks and smiles a little too wide. He’s also older than everyone in this place.
“What can I get you?”
“Whiskey on the rocks.” At my accent, there’s a low gasp from my right. Do you like accents, love?
“Any preference?”
“Macallan. Twenty-five if you have it.”
“Right away.” He turns to grab a glass when the scent of peaches and vanilla infiltrates my senses. It’s soft, fresh, and my cock throbs behind the zipper of my trousers. As the man pours my drink, I feel her eyes on me. And it’s so motherfucking hard, but I bite back a smirk and instead keep watch through the mirror behind the bar. She’s oblivious, and her curiosity in me is honest. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, mate.” Sliding a fifty across the bar, I turn to leave when I hear her.
“Is it any good?” Motherfuck, that sweet little voice is delicious.
I turn toward her. “Yes.”
“Seems harsh to me.” She shrugs, a small smile curling at the corner of her lips, and I want to lick the gloss off. “Plus, it smells awful.”
“Let me guess...” I tilt my head toward the half-empty glass in her hand “...you like your drinks sweet?”
“Don’t be judgy.” Her glare is playful, and I enjoy the way she leans a little closer. How perky her tits look in the cashmere sweater. “I’m more of a citrus-with-a-hint-of-sweetness kind of girl.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
“You do that.”
“Saucy little thing, aren’t you?”
She rolls her eyes at that and holds a dainty hand out toward me. “I’m Aliana, by the way.”
“Aliana.” It leaves me on a low rumble as I taste her name on my tongue. Softly, I grab her hand, moving a little closer before lifting it to my lips. I kiss her knuckles, her middle finger, and then turn it slightly to place my lips at her pulse point. My eyes never leave hers, cataloging every reaction, and I’m pleased by Aliana’s soft gasp as her stare becomes slightly hooded. Good girl. “A pleasure to meet you, beautiful.”
“Are you going to deny me your name?” She doesn’t take her hand back. Doesn’t chastise me for taking a few liberties. “Or do you want me to play the guessing game?”
