"The spirit is willing but my body is weak. Ask me again tomorrow." With my head resting on his shoulder and my face tucked into his neck, I kiss him there, feeling worn out and perfectly used.
The sound of applause behind me draws my attention. Angel claps while curled up between her two guys, looking well-fucked herself. "Nice show. That was hot." She smiles, and there's only appreciation in her voice, and not a hint of judgment.
Zero brushes my hair back. "She's right, that was fucking hot. I love watching you come for us."
"Mmm… I like it too," I murmur. I keep my face buried in Piston's neck. Now that I'm coming back down from my sex high, I don't really want to know exactly how many people watched us. "Can we go somewhere more private?"
The guys laugh as they provide cover for me to pull my clothes back on. I need a shower, but I'm not walking through that crowd naked. As the guys whisk me out of the common room and back to their quarters, I manage a quick wave to Angel. She grins and waves back, not at all shy about her own nudity as she leans back against her two guys. Maybe this is just another party for her, but right now, I feel like we're partners in crime.
And it's a kind of crime that I think I might be willing to commit again. Maybe become a bit of a serial offender even.
27
ZERO
"I—I'msorry, Sirs, but the gala is a cl—closed event." The doorman to the Woodley Grand Hotel is a heavyset man, and when scared he tries to make himself look as big as possible. Reminds me of a blowfish. Points for bravery, I suppose.
Eagle-eye levels his gaze at him. There are few people who can stand eye to eye with the president of the Screaming Eagles and not flinch away almost immediately. This guy isn’t one of them. "I'm pretty sure we have a standing invitation." Eagle-eye says deceptively gently, despite the steel in his voice. If that doorman knows what's best for him, he’ll back down now.
He doesn't even glance at the clipboard on the little stand in front of him. "Of course, Sir. My mistake, Sir." He looks past Eagle-eye to the roughly twenty Eagles we have with us, then asks in a tone that dearly hopes the answer will be no. "All of you, Sir?"
"All of us. Relax, we're not here to make trouble, not so long as no one troubles us." Eagle-eye chases the doorman to the other side of the door with just a glance.
"Of course not, Sir. Wouldn't imagine anything else." He pulls the door open for us.
Sometimes it's fun to be one of the big dogs.
We step into the kind of glitz and elegance that I rarely see, not that it’s even what appeals to me. Fuck, give me the honesty of a club party any night. It’d be a lot more fun than swooshing around in uncomfortable clothes to impress rich assholes. At least we didn’t have to dress up for this.
The hotel entry is all marble, plush rugs, and polished wood that gleams even in the soft, diffuse light that looks like it's coming from everywhere at once. A playground for the wealthy, or at least the ones who want to seem that way. The staff stare at us as we march right past reception in our biker leathers, cuts and boots, towards the chrome stand holding a white sign with "CHARITY GALA" in big capitals on it, in case anyone was in doubt. Underneath, in smaller capitals, it says, "RECEPTION AND AUCTION", with a border of logos from the local sponsors. Eagle grins and nods his head in the direction of the hall, then leads the way.
More marble, plush and wood. Massive white silken sails hang from the ceiling, giving a weird cloud texture. Paintings on the wall look very classic, with ornate, gilded frames, but I have no idea who they’re by. Divided into three, the hall has a stage with audience seating below it, and tables holding up displays of the various things being auctioned off, like art, fancy cakes and gilded plaques with promises of services. Straight ahead are food and drinks, laid out like a fancy buffet on tiny plates for easy carrying and tall flutes of bubbly alcohol. A string quartet is providing muted, inoffensive background music off to the side.
But when we walk in, the music stops, and suddenly we have everyone’s attention. Then again, we’re not trying to be subtle.
A tall man in a white suit that almost definitely isn't off of any fucking rack strides towards us, his square-jawed face looking quietly furious. His light blond hair is short and carefully styled, and he's walking with a fancy cane that looks more like a fashion accessory than something he actually needs.
Kozlov. I’ve never seen him in person, but I can’t imagine it’s anyone else.
He forces his expression into a smirk as he stops in front of Eagle-eye. He's a bit taller, but Eagle-eye has more presence. There’s no doubt as to which one would fuck the other up if it came to a physical fight. "I'm afraid there's been a mistake. I’m sure I’d remember if you were on the guest list," Kozlov says in a bored voice, like he's talking to the help.
"Oh? Do you recognize me? How flattering. I wasn’t sure you would since you seem to be avoiding me." Eagle-eye says mildly.
Kozlov cocks his head curiously and laughs. "I didn’t know you cared."
"That’s part of this whole problem isn’t it?" Eagle-eye smiles, and it sure as hell isn't pretty. "I care a whole hell of a lot about what happens in and around my territory. You should really cut your losses while you still can."
"Is this some sort of threat? I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I'm just a businessman, and quite frankly, there have been no losses."
I snort a laugh that gets a brief glance of annoyance from Kozlov. He might be dressed up fancy, but there's an ego to exploit there.
"My mistake. By all means, don’t hold up your little party for us, we’ll manage." Eagle-eye nods towards the stage.
Kozlov doesn't look happy to be dismissed, but what's he gonna say? People are already looking, and making a scene will only make things worse. For a moment I think he's gonna say something anyway, but then he takes his cane and walks away.
I glance at my watch. "Not a lot of time before the auction."
Eagle-eye nods. “Spread out, boys. Make some people nervous.”
