Page 83 of Midnight Curfew

We slip behind Renee Stahlman, who’s watching Mr. Stahlman. “She doesn’t like to go down on her husband,” I explain to Dallas quietly. “So she lets him get it here.”

I’m sure this place suits his appetite, but I don’t like anyone in here enough to get turned on. Maybe I’d find it fun with new blood. Liv and Clay? Some of his brothers maybe?

Stopping at the final window, I see the curtains are closed, but we can hear them. I had caught sight of the shelves in the anteroom to see who was here tonight. Of course, she’s always here on a Friday when her husband is out of town.

Dallas approaches the glass, peering through the slit in the curtain as the most velvet Puerto Rican accent carries through the speaker.

“Oh, baby,” she groans.

I stand a few inches from Dallas, watching his face.

His mouth falls, his brow pinches, and he turns to me. “Fuck, is that…”

“Edward Cadena’s wife,” I say.

Not a man anyone wants to fuck with. My own father gives him a very wide berth. They live in Miami most of the time, but she likes the quiet here.

I spy through the curtains with Dallas. “Look closer.”

He moves his head, trying to get all angles.

Once he sees it, he quickly backs away. “Are they fucking insane?” he asks me.

This time, I laugh, because for once, I agree. His son from his first wife sits on the couch, Gabriela sucking his dick.

“And if they do it here,” I muse, “they’re doing it at home.”

Sometimes, it gets this fucked up in here, but it would be too taboo to do anywhere else. As if rules change once we walk through the doors.

I guarantee Edward Cadena doesn’t want his young wife sucking off his twenty-one-year-old son anywhere.

Dallas studies me. “Why are you showing me this?” he asks.

Backing away from the window, I straighten up. “It’s why you wanted in, I assume.” I tilt my head. “Some kind of leverage?”

Of course, Macon is too moral to tell Cadena about his son and his wife. Edward would kill her, and Macon knows that.

But I’m sure he can get some use out of the information.

“Should make my job so much harder,” I point out. “But I’m up for it.”

I’ll get the Bay.

Dallas falls silent, looking everywhere but at me as the wheels in his head turn.

Amusement rumbles in my chest. He has no fucking clue what to do now. He’s so used to choosing the direction and what happens next. He probably thinks I still want him.

“You don’t have to follow me around.” I inhale and start to leave. “Stay and play or be on your way. The car will take you home when you’re ready.”

I walk, hearing him breathe out a laugh. “You don’t want to play with me?”

I spin back around. “Are you kidding?” I walk backward. “Midnight is when it just gets going in here.”

And I see his chin lift as realization hits that he won’t even be around for the real fun.

—

Making my way back out to the club, I lock eyes with Mrs. Coldwell, who’s snaking a leg across her husband’s lap. She holds my gaze, a little smirk curling her lips as she slides a hand between his legs.