The customer offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
Maverick tossed him a nod. “It’s all good.”
“Hey, listen up, everyone,” Big D boomed. “This is Mr. Maverick Hott, the man who rescued all those American hostages. Let’s show him some love.”
The group broke into hoots and applause. Maverick grinned at the crowd. “Thanks for the warm welcome.”
After opening the metal door, Big D slapped Maverick on the back. “Enjoy.”
Maverick handed the bouncer a folded fifty. “Where can I find the devil himself?”
Big D laughed. “In his office. Knock first. He’s rarely alone.”
Maverick strode down the dimly lit hallway made darker by black walls, and entered the bar. The place was packed, so he threaded his way toward the back of the large room, past the linen-covered tables and smartly dressed wait staff.
He heaved open the door and entered a different world. One filled with kinky delights and dark fetishes. Here, BDSM wasn’t just encouraged, it was nurtured, taught, and explored. While Maverick liked sex as much as the next guy, he stayed on the side of vanilla. Not because he didn’t want to explore what Sinclair offered, but because he’d never found anyone who intrigued him enough to take that first step.
Plus, Maverick never had to try when it came to women. Rather than chasing after one woman in particular, the ladies flocked to him. Always had. Only thing, none of them ever stuck. Not a single one.
As he walked down the hallway, he paused in front of one of the performance rooms. This is new. The sign on the wall said, “The Farmer’s Daughter.”
Maverick stood in the back. At his height, he had no problem seeing over everyone’s heads. A woman wearing a checkered dress was bent over a bale of hay while a man with overalls around his ankles took her from behind.
The couple ground and thrust, cried and groaned. Though he grew hard, he couldn’t connect with them. All he could see was Carly pinned against her basement wall. The same wall he’d leaned against when they’d played pool, time and time again. Heat streaked through him. How long had she been doing this? Who, of their close-knit group of friends, knew about her secret? And which one of them had screwed her?
Seeing red, he strode down the hall. Rather than wait for the elevator, he yanked open the fire door. Taking the steps two at a time, he continued climbing until he reached the third floor. As he barreled toward the office marked “Private”, at the hallway’s end, he grabbed his burning thigh.
He needed some damn answers and he had every confidence his brother had them. Instead of taking Big D’s advice and knocking, he barged in.
Sinclair was leaning back in his executive chair, eyeing a topless woman, her hands resting on her hips. As he flicked his gaze to his brother, his eyes burned brightly. “Perfect timing.”
Maverick shut the door.
“Tiffany was showing me her new breasts.”
Maverick eyed her tits. “Nice.”
“She’s all yours,” Sinclair said.
“What? Oh, yeah, is this my surprise?”
“It can be.” Sinclair furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Tiffany, your breasts are lovely,” Maverick said. “Can you excuse us for a minute?”
“Why don’t you go play?” Sinclair suggested as she slipped into her shirt.
Tiffany caressed Maverick’s crotch. “I’ll take extra special care of your brother, Sin.”
It would be so easy to take this woman into a private room and have some late night fun. He could screw her until the sun burst over the horizon, but he didn’t want her. He wanted someone else.
After Tiffany left, Maverick eyed his brother. If anyone knew Carly’s secrets, it was him. Sinclair kept everyone’s secrets, including his. Why should Carly be any different?
Sinclair opened his credenza and pulled out a bottle of Macallan Scotch Whisky and two glasses. “It’s great to have you back.” He filled them, then handed a glass to Maverick. The two men downed their drinks.
Maverick closed his eyes as the alcohol burned a path to his stomach. He placed the empty glass on the desk. “Hit me.”
Sinclair hesitated before pouring more. Maverick tossed that back, then set the glass down. “I have a question. And I expect an honest answer.”
