I let go of her body, and with my pointer finger, I gather all the moisture from around her mouth and slide my finger in between her teeth. She does as my silent command asks and sucks my finger clean.
“Fuck, that’s hot, mama.”
And I know then and there, with her big eyes looking up at me and my finger in her mouth, that I’m fucked. And because of everything that comes with my dark life and mysinful job, I deserve every damn piece of the shit show I’m creating between her and myself.
A storm is coming, and I brewed the whole damn thing.
Chapter Fifteen
Charlotte Mitchell
Ifollow Nix into the kitchen and lean my hip against the island while he heads to the corner cabinet. As he reaches inside it, I study his backside. I still don’t know what he looks like out of that jacket he’s so fond of wearing. I only got a glimpse of his arms in the bedroom the other night, but it was shrouded by purple hues. Besides his cock and upper thighs, I don’t even know what he looks like underneath his regular clothes.
As I watch him grab the liquor, I wonder if I’ll ever. There’s something different about Nix, something I can’t put my finger on. He’s not like most guys, more reserved, yet there’s this ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe going on. He’s in absolutely no rush for anything, yet he seems to hold possessions close. Maybe even the world in his palm.
It makes me wonder how he got this fast-paced job and why, if at all, he likes it.
It also makes me wonder how dark he can go becauseof this job. It takes a sick and twisted fuckwad to do what ultimately happens in this business, and I’d do well to remember that than fantasizing about what he looks like naked and raw, both physically and emotionally.
The stinging scent of liquor reaches my nose before he grasps the two glasses and pivots toward me. Wordlessly, he passes me one.
We watch each other as we both take a sip, and there’s zero awkwardness about it. It’s more of a challenge over who will say something first and what, exactly, they’ll say. I won’t break, even though I have a million questions. He may be alpha here, but I have some alpha vibes of my own. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have gone against my captain’s orders, and I wouldn’t have inserted myself into a project that could very well end with my intestines strung around someone’s dick like Christmas garland.
His eyes narrow a little when I don’t spit out anything, when I simply take a sip and watch him with an open expression. I get a sick sort of satisfaction out of the fact that he’s forced to speak first. “Go ahead.”
For winning, I hide my grin behind another sip and let the burn go all the way down before I ask, “With?”
“You’re not a closed book as you like to think you are.” He sets his glass down. “I can feel your unspoken thoughts beating against my skin.”
“Technically, it’d be the jacket since the only exposed skin you ever share is your face and your hands.”
I study the flex of his jaw, noting how he doesn’t like to be challenged. This man stole his power from the sun. I knew that, but I wanted to test my own boundaries since things seem to be different between us than what I’d expect from a boss and employee. After all, why would he take it upon himself to be in a videowhen he has plenty of other men who could do it for him?
“Charlie,” he grinds out in warning.
“Fine,” I begin, setting down my glass next to his. “I’ve been wondering. . . Are you the boss? Or is Andre?”
His eyes narrow. “Andre has nothing to do with porn. I’m in charge.”
My eyebrows rise. “So Andre is just an employee of yours?”
Several seconds tick by as he considers answering me. “He has his own things he’s in charge of.”
“Oh,” I say because I had already drawn that conclusion myself. I just wanted to see if I was right. “So you’re partners?”
A quick shift of his eyes over my shoulder tells me what I already know – that they’re not. It was such a quick movement that most wouldn’t notice. His eyes return to mine, and he grits out, “Change the subject.”
Man, he really is closed off, but I shouldn’t have expected to get any answers, and truth be told, I was probably pushing it too soon. I pick up the glass and take another sip just to busy my hands as I come up with something else that I can ask that has nothing to do with Andre. “How long have you been doing this? You seem to know what you’re doing.”
“Long enough.”
My shoulders deflate. I have to say I’m a little disappointed in his clipped answer, but it doesn’t discourage me from continuing to question him. “Is this something you’ve always wanted to do?”
Again with that jaw flexing. It’s almost like I hit a memory he doesn’t like to revisit, and I desperately want to ask about it. However, instead of answering, he says, “I have to use the restroom.”
I frown as he moves past me and out of the kitchen, but when I hear a door click within the house, I instantly move. Using my free hand, I quietly but quickly open and close drawers. With each drawer, I grow more impatient and my stomach sinks a little further into my gut. There’s nothing in them, not a damn thing. Each is as empty as the last.
I reach the last empty drawer; then I bite the inside of my cheek before raising my attention to the cabinets. “Worth a shot,” I murmur to myself, but when I reach the cabinets, the front door opens, and a whistle follows whoever just walked into the condo.
