“They’re mostly for swingers or high-profile people who really want to keep their shit private and are willing to pay to ensure no one finds out about them.”
Huh. I stare at the card as I flip it between my fingers. I think about Josslyn’s meeting with that woman and her interaction with those guys earlier. I know this has something to do with my sister. Most likely, this is her trying to get information that’ll prove her stepfather’s innocence to me. Does that mean Mallory was involved in these?What the hell was she thinking?
“I gotta go,” I tell Lucas.
“We’re still on for golf, right?”
“Yeah.” I hang up and shut my eyes as I lean against the headrest.
Hypocritical as it makes me, I don’t like the idea of her being in contact with any of these people. On the drive back to my place, my stomach churns when I think about Josslyn in a room with men like John. The feeling frustrates me more than it should but it proves that I need to put an end to this madness ASAP.
26
JOSSLYN
Instead of meeting Livie and some of our teammates at the bar like I was supposed to, I decide to head home. My head is spinning from everything I just learned from Scarlet and the men she introduced me to. I knew Mallory had a group of friends she met with there. I think about the man we saw at a restaurant one night, and Mallory’s strange reaction to him saying hello. He looked like the typical rich, older man. From the way he greeted her, I figured he had to be a friend of her parents, but her panicked face and shaky hands when we walked out said otherwise.
Naturally, I asked her about him, and of course, she lied. I think discovering how much she lied is the worst part of all of this. After parking my car, I grab my phone to text Mallory, as I’ve done so often.
Me: Your brother is a real pain in the ass, but i don’t think he’s wrong about what happened not being an accident. He’s bringing Titus into this now, and I KNOW he had nothing to do with it but he has footage that could incriminate him, which means I’ll have to prove him wrong. God, mal. This is so fucked up. I wish I could go back to thatfight and make you see reason. I wish I would’ve tried more before that night. And after.
I put my phone in my purse and wipe the tears from my face. Twenty-four hours after her death, her parents put a gag order on everyone—Mal’s friends, the employees at Onyx, the cops, the media. Days later, their lawyer sent everyone another document stating we needed to take down all photos and posts of Mallory. She hadn’t even been dead a week and they were already erasing her as if she’d never existed. That’s how it felt, anyway. In a way, I did the same thing after my dad died, so I guess I can’t blame them. It’s easier to deal with loss if you compartmentalize and file it away. After a moment, I make myself get out of the car and head into my building.
I smell him before I realize it’s him, and my nerves instantly go haywire. Somehow, I’m able to act nonchalant as I take a step back. He’s wearing navy slacks, a white shirt with the top button undone, and a sports coat. The shadow of a beard gives him a rugged look, and his hair is a little out of place, but I can tell he’d had it slicked back earlier. He looks so fucking hot. Even more so as he drags his hooded eyes over me from head to toe and back.
“Are you going out or getting back from somewhere?” I ask and clear my throat to compose myself.
“Just got back,” he says, giving me another heated once-over. “You?”
“I met a friend for drinks,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as shaky as I feel.
It’s technically not a lie, but for some reason, I feel like it is. Finn makes an acknowledging sound that does nothing to calm my nerves, and we start walking to the elevator. We find a group of people waiting for it when we get there, and when the doors open and they step inside, I take a step forward. Finn grabs my elbow and holds me back before I get very far, letting the elevator doors close. Before I can question him, he lets go of my elbow and the next set of elevator doors open. This time, when I start walking,he’s right beside me and doesn’t stop me. We step inside and he moves toward the panel.
“You seem to know mine, so I’ll let you press the button,” I say, making it sound like a joke, though I’m hoping he explains himself.
He doesn’t. He pushes the button for his floor, which is four above mine, and when he glances at me, the look he gives me makes my heart stutter. It takes him two strides to close the distance between us. When he’s finally in front of me, I stop breathing.
“You’re coming home with me tonight,” he says, voice gravelly as he slides his long fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck and tilts my head up.
As I stare into his eyes, I consider telling him where I was and what I found out, but think better of it. I won’t actually have information on the people his sister used to hang out with until I go to one of the meetings they have planned next week, so there’s nothing to tell. Instead, I nod my agreement, because there’s no way I’m going to turn him down.
He brings his mouth down on mine and uses my surprise to his advantage as he sweeps his tongue into my mouth. He pins me against the wall behind me, bringing a knee between my legs and pressing where I’m most sensitive as he brings his other hand to cup my breast. An onslaught of sensations shoots through me and my knees buckle. I grip his arms to keep myself upright as I get lost in the kiss. The elevator doors open, and without breaking away from me, he walks out and pulls me with him.
Finally, he breaks the kiss, his eyes wild as he searches my face for a moment before his lips are right back on mine. He wraps an arm around me to keep me steady as he walks me toward his apartment. When he pulls away again, it’s to punch the code, open his door, and lead me inside. My breath leaves me as he pushes me against the closed door, his mouth back on mine. And then, we both snap. My hands yank off his jacket as he’s hiking up my dress and dragging his mouth along my jaw and neck. I’m tugging his shirt out of his pants and working on his belt bucklewhen he suddenly grabs my hands, pulls away, and sets his forehead against mine.
“I’ve waited too long to fuck you. I’m not about to do it against a door,” he says between breaths.
I let him pull me away from the door and lead me through his apartment—which is ten times bigger than mine. He doesn’t ask if I want something to drink. Makes no small talk. And he definitely doesn’t let me wrap my head around the idea that I’m in his home. In his room, he turns on the bedside lamps, giving us just enough light. Then he turns to me again, his eyes alight with lust as he takes me in once more.
“Turn around,” he rasps.
Butterflies swarm my belly as I do. Behind me, I hear him wrestling with his clothes, but I stare at the closet straight ahead. I jump when I feel his breath on my neck, followed by soft kisses and nips as he begins to lower my zipper. My stomach somersaults so hard, I feel off-kilter and squirm with each graze of his fingers.
“I don’t know what it is about you,” he says quietly, as his lips trail down my neck to my bare shoulder.
He pauses the kisses and focuses on getting my dress over my hips and the curve of my ass.
“Jesus Christ, you’re going to kill me,” he mutters, dropping his mouth on the curve of my neck and biting down hard enough that I jump with a yelp.
