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But I remember the man.
It wasn’t often—like ever—that men dressed in tuxedos hung around those offices and loading docks.
I reach up to wrap my arms around Malone’s neck and kiss a path to his ear.
“This better be good because you’re really fucking with my concentration.” He pulls me against him. “Sit on my lap, your back to my front, legs either side of my thighs. Do it.”
I do, and I’m extremely thankful for my panties with the greedy pairs of eyes opposite me zeroing in on the area between my legs. There’s something so erotic about being this exposed that it makes me tremble with need.
God, I want to rub myself all over him.
“Scarlett? Stop grinding on me and talk.”
Heat flares through my skin. “The man to the right in the corner, I recognize him.”
He takes my hair and brings me in close, nibbling the side of my neck. “Ever heard of Dark Desires?”
“A feeling or a business?”
But I have, in passing. I nod.
He doesn’t respond. Malone keeps playing his hand of cards, lighting up a cigarette and drinking scotch. I clutch my drink as he throws more chips in and then, with the cigarette hanging out of one corner of his mouth, he puts his scotch down and slips that hand up my thigh, under my skirt to toy with my pussy.
It’s so brazen, and so breathtakingly wrong because I’m wet with arousal, and his cum from the fuck fest at the warehouse is still inside me. He slides a finger into the side of my panties to dip into my slit and a moan tumbles from my mouth.
The fucker laughs.
Then he pulls his hand free and offers his fingers to me. I suck them. I taste like the two of us, tangled, and unexpected because the taste, like us, shouldn’t work and yet…
Oh, it does.
Malone’s concentration slouches back to the cards. He lets out a deep sigh, downs his drink, drops the cigarette in the glass, and folds his hand.
He pushes me forward. My feet hit the floor and I stand up from his lap.
“Too distracted, gentlemen,” he says. And the asshole has the nerve to wink at a hot, fake-boobed blonde draped over an older man. She grins and her eyes get fluttery. The old guy pretends it isn’t happening, and that both annoys and intrigues me.
It annoys me because this man I’m with thinks he can have any girl, at any time, and it intrigues me because I’m willing to bet that if Malone asked, this guy would hand over his woman without blinking.
Malone slides his arm around me and tucks me into his side. With a quick glance at the man on the other side of him, he says, “Come by the club and we’ll talk more about that deal.”
And he whisks me out of there without another look or word.
“Malone,” I say the moment we’re out in the cool night air. “What?—?”
“The car, Red. Save it for the car. Not that you’ll be talking. I’m gonna have you on your knees with my cock down your throat.”
He hauls me down the street, catching me when I stumble in the ridiculous, murderous shoes he gave me. I wish more than anything that I had those stretchy pants on right now, that I could dump these heels for those sneakers. But he threw them and the bag into the water.
The car’s waiting at the end of the street, like some kind of magic carpet. The balls of my feet burn like they’re being branded by hot coals.
He doesn’t say another word until we’re in the back seat—it’s a limo this time—and heading away from the place, I peer out the window for a street sign as Malone sits opposite me, eyes shut.
“How do you know Bishop?” he asks.
I turn to face him. “Who?”
“You know who, Scarlett. Dark Desires. The man in the corner.” He pauses. “What do you know about Dark Desires?”
