“I’m honored to be a member.” I whisper, causing him to chuckle.
“I should have told you there’s a bedroom next door, but this was way more fun.”
“Are you serious?”
My eyes widen as he nods, pulling out and grabbing a handful of paper towels, mortifying me further by slapping them against my pussy, as he cleans me up with a suggestive wink.
“You can go and sleep. I have business to attend to with Jack.”
He cleans himself off in the sink, and I steady my breathing. Life is certainly an adventure with him, and I’m surprised to discover I wouldn’t have it any other way and as we steal out of the toilet, we go our separate ways as if nothing just happened. As if he just didn’t tie my soul in knots and place my heart under lock and key.
CHAPTER 29
SIMEON
My business took up most of the flight and I only joined Alice for one hour’s sleep before freshening up in the bathroom attached to the bedroom on board.
It amused me to fuck Alice like a whore. She is anything but; however, shocking her has become my preferred method of sport.
Now we are in the usual cars heading to my building in Queens, and I wonder what she will make of it. It’s not a mansion, not even close. It’s basic, industrial, and the howls of my tortured victims disturb the air.
My apartment is set over a strip club that my family owns. Drugs are dealt in the alley and drinking goes on late into the night. Fights are frequent, the traffic noisy, and morals firmly live in the gutter.
Definitely not a place to bring an almost nun, and it amuses me to picture her there.
“Are we going to your home?”
Excitement shines from her words, and I nod. “Yes, but now it’s our home. Feel free to decorate as you see fit.”
I chuckle to myself as I picture the dark, emotionless interior. The proverbial bachelor’s pad where I indulge my love of domination in the club below. I have it all, at least I thought I did until I met Alice. Until I met my wife.
Jack warned me about bringing her here, but I brushed his concerns aside. Alice must take me for who I am. I have never lied to her, and I will not—ever. She sees the whole of me or none of me, and as we pull into the street where my heart rests, I grip her hand tightly and whisper, “Honey, we’re home.”
“Here?”
Her startled gasp echoes around the car, and I nod, amused at her reaction already.
“I live above the club.”
“Why?”
She shakes her head and grips my hand tighter, and I expect it’s because of the size of the doorman guarding the entrance to the club.
The door opens and my guards control the perimeter as I pull her from the car, dragging in deep breaths of deprivation.
This place ignites the animal inside me that is needed to carry out my business. I’m an enforcer by trade and sharpened my knowledge over the years. Several notches on my belt are testament to my skill.
We head to the side entrance, and as we enter the elevator, she is silent as we take the ride to the top.
I say nothing as I sharpen the claws needed to survive on the streets, and as we head into the apartment that spans the entire floor, she relaxes slightly.
“Is this your home?”
“Yes,” I state simply, and she glances around nervously.
“It suits you.”
I can’t argue with her because it does—it always has.
