When the elevator doors opened, they revealed my massive, glass-topped, walnut desk and the beautiful woman sitting in my leather wingback behind it. Oh, Key was back all right and she was back with a vengeance. Her hair shone like the paint job on a fast car with all its bright red intensity, her makeup was heavy and sultry, and from what I could see of her body, she was back in clothes that were designed to make most men come to heel. Her tight black top dipped down low into her cleavage, showing off both her impressive rack and her raised-up scar. She looked like the overly sexualized villain in a superhero movie and I could hardly handle it. I wanted to rush at her, snatch her up, throw her on my desk, and bury myself so deeply inside of her she would never be able to shake me loose. I breathed out low and long through my nose and told myself to keep my baser instincts in check. I might be a monster, but I wasn’t an animal.
She had her legs crossed, and her heels, which I was sure cost the same as my now ruined suit, were propped up on the edge of my desk. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my slacks and willed the erection that was stirring to life to settle down. I needed to know what her agenda was before I tried to make her understand that my only agenda was her . . . and always had been. I took a few steps into the room and paused when she swung her long legs off the desk and climbed to her feet so she could start walking toward me.
I met her halfway and we stared at each other in a strained silence for a long minute. I could feel her breathing. I could see her delicate pulse fluttering in her neck. I could almost taste the tiny drop of moisture that beaded up at her hairline and dipped across her temple. I was so consumed with having her back where she belonged and being so close to her after so long that I didn’t see her fingers curl into a fist. When the blow landed on my cheek, it whipped my head around with enough force to make me gasp in surprise. She had a good enough arm that the punch made my teeth clamp down on my tongue, and before I knew it, I had a mouth full of blood. I grumbled at her and took a step back as she shook her hand out and glared at me.
“That was for the bum you paid to beat me up. You’re such an asshole, Nassir.”
I walked around her and went to my desk to find something to spit the blood into. I fell into the chair she’d vacated and pulled a tissue out of the drawer.
“He was supposed to scare you, not put his hands on you.” Anger at myself and the situation I created pricked at my skin. Her blow was a thousand times more deserved than the ones I let some stranger land on me for her. I never wanted to be responsible for causing her pain, physical or otherwise, and yet that’s exactly what I had done because of my own shortsightedness.
She pushed the longer front portion of her hair off of her face and pointed at a healing red mark that blazed an obvious trail over her eyebrow. “Well, he didn’t get that memo, which isn’t surprising since he was clearly a tweaker. You can’t ever leave well enough alone.”
I spit another mouthful of red out and then stuck my tongue out so I could probe at the wound. Man she had a killer right hook.
“I couldn’t.” That was the truth. I couldn’t leave her in Denver. I couldn’t forget about her. I could never leave her alone even if that was really what she wanted. I was a desperate man doing desperate things for a woman that hated desperation in all its forms. “But I’m not going to let that waste of skin get away with putting his hands on you either.” I had a guy traveling to Colorado now to get her car and the rest of her stuff. I was going to make a call and make sure he paid my homeless friend a visit. It was no wonder she hated men that were reckless in their need. I could have cost myself the one thing I wanted most, the one thing I had never been able to own or control because of my careless actions.
She sighed and moved back toward where I was sitting. I thought she would take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk or on the ornate chaise that sat by the opaque windows that overlooked the bar. She didn’t. She walked around the corner of the desk, squeezed herself between my legs and the edge of the wood, and propped herself up right in front of me so that our legs were touching. The outside of her almost naked thighs pressing against the fine wool in the inside of mine. I felt the contact throughout my body like an electric current.
She crossed her arms over her enhanced chest and looked down her nose at me. “You can’t punish someone for something you orchestrated. You are the one at fault here, Nassir, not the bum. He never bothered me. Not for six months, until you showed up and waved a big ol’ juicy steak at him. Be accountable for your shitty behavior for once in your life.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. She was fooling herself if she thought I was going to let anyone put their hands on her in a violent way even if I was the one that had set the wheels in motion. I wasn’t going to argue because what was done was done.
“What do you think of the club?”
Her soft gray eyes widened and then narrowed. “It’s big and fancy. You can’t miss it as soon as you drive into the city.” There was a pause and her breath hitched. “You named it after me.”
I grinned at her. She was the key to everything that mattered in my world and in this city. Of course I named it after her.
“All the members got a lock or a key when they joined and paid their membership dues. The men all have a lock, one that is either open or one that is closed. If the lock is open, it means the gentleman is attached, married, has a partner, but is still up for anything and everything. The closed lock signifies that that particular man is off-limits and must engage with another member on his or her own terms.”
She lifted an eyebrow at me. “And the keys?”
I shrugged. “The women have the keys, to the locks and to the men’s hearts. Don’t they always?”
She moved a little closer and our knees brushed together, and I felt it in my balls. I sucked in a quick breath as the mere touch made my dick throb.
“So the women can just go around unlocking and locking men up all night long? They have no rules?”
“Women make all the rules when it comes to sex, Key. You should know this better than anyone.” I wanted to reach out and pull her off the edge of the desk so that she was sitting in my lap. “They have the key but they don’t have to use it, and if a member with a closed lock doesn’t want them to set them free, then that’s it. There is no pressure. There is no persuasion. It should all be mutual and it is all facilitated by men and women that want to be here. I’m paying a small fortune for the people that know this industry inside and out. I built a grown-up amusement park where nothing is off-limits. People love their kink. People love their sex.”
She had her legs crossed, and her heels, which I was sure cost the same as my now ruined suit, were propped up on the edge of my desk. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my slacks and willed the erection that was stirring to life to settle down. I needed to know what her agenda was before I tried to make her understand that my only agenda was her . . . and always had been. I took a few steps into the room and paused when she swung her long legs off the desk and climbed to her feet so she could start walking toward me.
I met her halfway and we stared at each other in a strained silence for a long minute. I could feel her breathing. I could see her delicate pulse fluttering in her neck. I could almost taste the tiny drop of moisture that beaded up at her hairline and dipped across her temple. I was so consumed with having her back where she belonged and being so close to her after so long that I didn’t see her fingers curl into a fist. When the blow landed on my cheek, it whipped my head around with enough force to make me gasp in surprise. She had a good enough arm that the punch made my teeth clamp down on my tongue, and before I knew it, I had a mouth full of blood. I grumbled at her and took a step back as she shook her hand out and glared at me.
“That was for the bum you paid to beat me up. You’re such an asshole, Nassir.”
I walked around her and went to my desk to find something to spit the blood into. I fell into the chair she’d vacated and pulled a tissue out of the drawer.
“He was supposed to scare you, not put his hands on you.” Anger at myself and the situation I created pricked at my skin. Her blow was a thousand times more deserved than the ones I let some stranger land on me for her. I never wanted to be responsible for causing her pain, physical or otherwise, and yet that’s exactly what I had done because of my own shortsightedness.
She pushed the longer front portion of her hair off of her face and pointed at a healing red mark that blazed an obvious trail over her eyebrow. “Well, he didn’t get that memo, which isn’t surprising since he was clearly a tweaker. You can’t ever leave well enough alone.”
I spit another mouthful of red out and then stuck my tongue out so I could probe at the wound. Man she had a killer right hook.
“I couldn’t.” That was the truth. I couldn’t leave her in Denver. I couldn’t forget about her. I could never leave her alone even if that was really what she wanted. I was a desperate man doing desperate things for a woman that hated desperation in all its forms. “But I’m not going to let that waste of skin get away with putting his hands on you either.” I had a guy traveling to Colorado now to get her car and the rest of her stuff. I was going to make a call and make sure he paid my homeless friend a visit. It was no wonder she hated men that were reckless in their need. I could have cost myself the one thing I wanted most, the one thing I had never been able to own or control because of my careless actions.
She sighed and moved back toward where I was sitting. I thought she would take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk or on the ornate chaise that sat by the opaque windows that overlooked the bar. She didn’t. She walked around the corner of the desk, squeezed herself between my legs and the edge of the wood, and propped herself up right in front of me so that our legs were touching. The outside of her almost naked thighs pressing against the fine wool in the inside of mine. I felt the contact throughout my body like an electric current.
She crossed her arms over her enhanced chest and looked down her nose at me. “You can’t punish someone for something you orchestrated. You are the one at fault here, Nassir, not the bum. He never bothered me. Not for six months, until you showed up and waved a big ol’ juicy steak at him. Be accountable for your shitty behavior for once in your life.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. She was fooling herself if she thought I was going to let anyone put their hands on her in a violent way even if I was the one that had set the wheels in motion. I wasn’t going to argue because what was done was done.
“What do you think of the club?”
Her soft gray eyes widened and then narrowed. “It’s big and fancy. You can’t miss it as soon as you drive into the city.” There was a pause and her breath hitched. “You named it after me.”
I grinned at her. She was the key to everything that mattered in my world and in this city. Of course I named it after her.
“All the members got a lock or a key when they joined and paid their membership dues. The men all have a lock, one that is either open or one that is closed. If the lock is open, it means the gentleman is attached, married, has a partner, but is still up for anything and everything. The closed lock signifies that that particular man is off-limits and must engage with another member on his or her own terms.”
She lifted an eyebrow at me. “And the keys?”
I shrugged. “The women have the keys, to the locks and to the men’s hearts. Don’t they always?”
She moved a little closer and our knees brushed together, and I felt it in my balls. I sucked in a quick breath as the mere touch made my dick throb.
“So the women can just go around unlocking and locking men up all night long? They have no rules?”
“Women make all the rules when it comes to sex, Key. You should know this better than anyone.” I wanted to reach out and pull her off the edge of the desk so that she was sitting in my lap. “They have the key but they don’t have to use it, and if a member with a closed lock doesn’t want them to set them free, then that’s it. There is no pressure. There is no persuasion. It should all be mutual and it is all facilitated by men and women that want to be here. I’m paying a small fortune for the people that know this industry inside and out. I built a grown-up amusement park where nothing is off-limits. People love their kink. People love their sex.”
