Читать книгу Sweet As Sin - J. Margot Critch - Страница 10

ALEX FISCHER LEANED back and spread his arms along the back of the couch and scanned the nightclub around him. There were hundreds of gorgeous women in high heels and short dresses, flawless makeup and hair, and his hopes for the evening were high. Peeling his gaze away from the crowded dance floor, he looked at his friend Gabe, who sat across from him in the VIP area of Swerve nightclub, and poured them each a couple of fingers of bourbon.

“Thanks,” Alex said, taking his, leaning in so Gabe could hear him over the music. “This couch used to be a lot more crowded,” he said, referring to their buddies Brett and Rafael, who used to join them at their nightclub, carousing, drinking, club-hopping, hooking up with women. Since they had met their women and fallen in love, they hadn’t joined them in the activities of the young, rich, good-looking single man.

“Yeah,” Gabe said, and snickered. “Now that Brett and Raf are sufficiently neutered, it seems like it’s just you and me. And Alana, when we can pull her away from Di Terrestres.”

Alex brought his glass to his lips and sipped the fine spirit as Gabe reached into his breast pocket and withdrew his phone.

“Oh hell,” Gabe muttered, reading the screen of his phone.

“Anything wrong?”

“Oh nothing. Just one of my clients having a crisis at—” he checked his watch “—nine fifteen on a Friday night.”

“You’re on the clock?”

“Aren’t we always?”

Alex frowned. “I thought we were hanging out.”

“So did I,” Gabe told him, taking one more wistful look around the club. “But I have to take care of this tonight. I’ll text you tomorrow.” When Alex stood, Gabe held his hand out. “Why don’t you stick around? Enjoy the booth, finish the bourbon, find someone to share it with you. No sense in it going to waste.” He gestured to the dance floor with a nod of his chin. “Get into a little trouble,” he said with a wink.

“Maybe I will,” Alex agreed, sitting back on the leather banquette. He could take Gabe’s advice and get into some trouble, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it on his own. He scrolled through the mental list of his closest friends, the rest of The Brotherhood. The five of them had formed the group out of college. With similar goals of running the Las Vegas business and nightlife scene, they’d realized that they were stronger as a unit and had joined forces, using their own specialties to bring them all to the top. It was Alana, the only female member of the group, who’d come up with the name, as a nod to the legends of secret societies of the powerful and wealthy throughout the country. While neither Alex nor his friends donned robes and performed rituals, The Brotherhood worked together to run their tied businesses and make decisions as a group.

Once driven by power and success, it seemed like each member of The Brotherhood was finding true love, settling down, getting married, blah, blah, blah... So Brett and Rafael were both at home with their women; Alana working at their club, Di Terrestres, even though they’d hired managers; and Gabe had just bowed out of partying in favor of work.

They were growing up, and as they pressed onward into their thirties, a part of him yearned for the old days. But every night, while Brett and Raf went home to their gorgeous partners, Alex still went home to his cold, empty condo, which overlooked Las Vegas Boulevard. All the revelry below did not match the sullen loneliness of his thirty-six-hundred square feet in the sky. Alex looked around the packed club, at the women in their minuscule dresses, gyrating, bumping and grinding against one another on the dance floor. More than one cast interested looks in his direction as he sat alone on the VIP couch. Maybe a little “trouble” was exactly what he needed.

Finishing the bourbon in his glass in one swallow, Alex headed for the dance floor, his eyes sharp and focused as he looked over the women in attendance. And there were many who were just his type—blonde, gorgeous, tall, fit, generously proportioned.

But there was one woman in the crowd that caught his attention, and she stopped him dead in his tracks. She was easily the sexiest woman in the club, moving with a confidence that came from always being the most beautiful woman in any room. The woman swiveled her hips to the music, keeping time with the beat. But there was something familiar about the dark-haired beauty, in a short skirt that stopped just below the round curve of her ample ass and perched on high stilettos, dancing with some guy, grinding against him as they moved. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer. She was stunning in a gold satin backless shirt; the only thing holding it on her body were the thin ties at her neck and lower back. She spun around, so she’d faced him briefly before turning her back on him again. Her breasts moved unencumbered under the loose material, proving she definitely was not wearing any kind of bra.

Every other woman in the club fell away as Alex got closer to her. It didn’t matter to him that the siren was dancing with another man, she wouldn’t be for much longer. He was a couple of yards away before her face came into view. The large brown eyes, and full red lips were those of a woman he knew.

Fuck, it was Maria.

Rafael’s sister—his best friend’s sister—looking like complete, unadulterated, absolutely sinful sex that made his dick stand upright at attention. She might have been twenty-six, but he’d never seen her dressed like that, moving like that. How had she transformed from the good, sweet young woman he knew into the vixen in front of him?

What the fuck is she doing here?

He stalked over to her as anger, possessiveness and a lust he didn’t quite understand coursed through him, each feeling warring for dominance. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw him, but the guy she was dancing with didn’t seem to notice his presence at all until he pulled the other man’s hands from Maria’s body. “Think again, kid,” Alex sneered.

“What the fuck?” The young bro came up to Alex, his ego injured, looking for a fight, even though Alex outsized him by at least eight inches and one hundred pounds of muscle. The kid was clearly somehow stupider than he looked in his polo shirt and khakis. Who even dresses like that anymore?

“Get out of here,” Alex told him. The kid looked like he might stand his ground, but just as Alex suspected, he didn’t put up a fight and backed away. Even though a girl, a woman, like Maria would be worth dying for. But instead of realizing that, the young asshole looked Maria up and down, then glared at Alex before he backed away into the darkness of the club.

“What the hell, Alex?” Maria yelled over the music, smacking him in the chest, hard. Her small fist bounced off his pec.

But he was undeterred. “What do you think you’re doing here? Dressed like that.” He stared down at her, trying to ignore the way her smooth exposed skin made him feel, and the way his body tightened in response. He tried to push it back. He couldn’t be attracted to Maria.

But Maria didn’t seem to notice his turmoil and was squarely focused on being pissed at him. “Well, I was dancing with a cute guy, before you rudely interrupted.” She was mad. Alex recognized the pout of her lips, an expression she made when she was unhappy or when he and Rafael would pick on her as kids. She folded her arms across her chest, and the action plumped her breasts, pushing them up the low neckline of her shirt.

“Who was that guy?”

Her shrug was full of attitude. “I don’t know. I just met him.”

His eyes drifted south, watching the movements of her breasts, before he forced them back to her face. “Are you here alone?”

“No, I’m with my girlfriends.” She gestured vaguely over her shoulder.

“Well, where are they?”

“They’re around. What’s it to you, Alex?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Well, I am at a nightclub,” she said, looking at him, as if it was obvious.

He grabbed her arm. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

She pulled back and wrenched away from his grip. “No, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here with my friends. And I was having a good time until you rudely interrupted.”

“Go get them. I’m calling you a car.”

“Fuck you, Alex.” Admirably, she stood her ground, not backing down from him. He looked around and could see that they were starting to catch the attention of the bouncers and staff.

“Maria.” He leaned in, whispering near her ear. “Come on. We’re leaving.” Looking around them, he didn’t miss the way that every guy in the place looked at Maria like she was a lamb in a lion’s den. A stubborn, immovable lamb. Relenting, he sighed. “Fine. If you aren’t leaving, then neither am I.” There was no way in hell he was going to walk out of that club while she was dressed like that.

She huffed and turned on her stiletto-clad heel and stomped away from him, toward two other women he assumed were her friends who stood at a table. He tried to ignore the way Maria’s ass shifted and her hips swayed under her skirt, or the flex of her toned thigh and calf muscles with every step. Grumbling to himself, frustrated, he went back to the VIP area and poured himself another drink. “Jesus.”

“Need anything else, Mr. Fischer?” the cocktail waitress asked him, within twenty seconds of his returning to his table.

Not taking his eyes off Maria, he shook his head. She was facing away from him, but every few seconds, she would look at him over her shoulder. Her large dark eyes were hot, burning him across the crowded nightclub, and her full lips pouted, teasing him, egging him on. Saluting her with his glass, he knocked back the bourbon in one large swallow.

He’d known Maria for years. When he was a child, the Martinez family had saved his life. He’d moved in with the family and out of his slum after his mother’s death and his father’s incarceration, and he never looked back. Alex owed Maria’s family everything, and whether she wanted him to or not, he would look out for her—make sure she stayed safe, and that certainly didn’t mean entertaining any of the thoughts he currently had in his mind.

* * *

Maria could feel Alex’s gaze on her back. Just who in the hell did he think he was? She was just trying to have some fun with her friends, Beth and Anna, dance with some good-looking guys, have them buy her some drinks. But of course, she couldn’t go anywhere in Las Vegas without being seen and coddled by one of Rafael’s overprotective friends. She was twenty-six years old, and completely sick of being treated like a fucking child. It was the curse of being the youngest daughter in a strict, Latino Catholic family. They loved her, and God knew her family was more important to her than anything else, but their watchful eyes were burdensome.

Thankfully, her parents had at least finally recognized that she was an adult. But Rafael was another issue. He flat-out refused to even remotely acknowledge the fact that she was no longer a child. She was a grown woman, she’d seen firsthand all of the terrible things that could happen to a woman, and she knew how to protect herself from those who would wish to do her harm. Since graduating from college, she’d spent months at a time on humanitarian missions with various groups like the Red Cross and Doctors Without Borders in areas ravaged by war, disease and natural disasters. Her eyes had been opened to how dangerous the world could be when people were desperate and willing to do anything to survive. But in the mind of her stubborn brother, she was still a naive kid. Hell, she would be an eighty-year-old woman, and he would still be calling her his baby sister.

Alex’s closeness to her brother, and the fact that he had basically been raised in her home, meant that she should probably think of him as her brother, too. But she hadn’t. They’d grown up together, and while she’d always had a bit of a crush on him, somewhere along the way he’d ceased to be the gross boy who’d teased and picked on her, and had become the strong, gorgeous man who lit her every desire on fire.

“Maria, who was the hottie?” Beth asked, breaking through her thoughts. Maria blinked and realized that she was still looking at Alex, who was staring right back.

“Alex. A friend of my brother’s.”

“He is seriously the best-looking guy in here.” Maria watched her friend as she sized up Alex from across the room. “And he can’t keep his eyes off you. Why don’t you go for it? Crawl up on all that muscle.”

It certainly wasn’t beyond the thoughts that Maria had had about Alex. The man was a certified hunk. She may have spent thousands of hours in the middle of the night, in bed everywhere from Las Vegas to Haiti to the Middle East in the midst of fantasies about Alex Fischer. Those strong shoulders, the rippling muscles of his back and the bulge in his pants. “Believe me, I would,” she said, her breath pushing out from her constricting lungs. “But there’s no chance. He still thinks of me only as a kid, Rafael’s little sister.” A good girl. That was how everyone thought of her. Sure, she was a good person, but she also had a wicked streak that she heartily embraced every chance she got.

Oblivious to the conversation Maria and her friends had been having, some guy took the opportunity to join them, sidling up close to Maria, wrapping his arm low around her waist. He said something stupid about her culo, and she rolled her eyes. Idiot. God, she’d had enough of men imposing themselves on her, and her patience was at an all-time low. Can’t a woman just go out and have fun with her friends? She pulled his arm away from her. “You’d better get out of here, pendejo. Before I kick your culo all over this club.” She didn’t need Alex to scare off idiot guys. She could more than handle herself.

But he didn’t walk away; instead, he somehow sidled closer. “Ooh, fiery, I like that.”

The guy had no idea. She’d learned a long time ago while on missions how to deal with chauvinists, catcallers, guys who attempted to touch her uninvited. It wasn’t pretty. She’d seen some real dangerous men in her time. This frat boy in his Old Navy chambray shirt and chinos didn’t interest or scare her. “Listen, man, I’m not playing. Back off!” She turned away from him, trying to talk to her girlfriends.

When the guy laughed and grabbed her ass, Maria whipped around and grasped the guy’s fingers in a grip that twisted his wrist, causing him severe pain. He cried out, and everyone in the near vicinity looked in their direction. A bouncer moved close, but he didn’t stop her. “You know you shouldn’t go around touching people without their permission, don’t you?” She twisted her hand, and as she pinched a nerve ending, he screamed in pain. “So what do you say? Will you get the fuck out of here, or do I have to break your fingers?”

“Fine, I’ll go,” the guy wailed. She let him go and he cradled his injured hand. “Crazy bitch.”

“What was that?” she challenged, not backing down. “I don’t think I heard you.” There was one thing she hated and that was misogynistic, predatory assholes. He hadn’t backed down when she said no, so she literally took matters into her own hands. Hopefully the guy learned his lesson, but if not, she would gladly teach him again.

“Is there a problem?” Alex asked her, suddenly appearing at her side, but turned his attention to the guy as he retreated. He started to follow, but Maria held him back.

“No, I’ve got this,” she said as the other guy slunk out of view, disappearing into the crowd. “I don’t need a bodyguard, you know.”

“So I saw. That was pretty impressive.” He took her hand in his. His large fingers dwarfed hers and she felt the full-body tremor that traveled throughout her, starting with his touch, radiating to her core. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she managed to say as he inspected her fingers while she watched his face.

Alex turned her hand over and frowned. “You broke a nail.”

She looked down and saw that the recently manicured nail on her index finger had cracked off. The manicure had been expensive, and she frowned that it was ruined, but she covered her annoyance with a cool laugh. At least she hoped it was. “It’s no worse off than his pride, though. So, now that you can see I know how to look after myself, you can leave.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not going anywhere.” He smiled, turning on the charm. “Maria, I’m very sorry I interrupted your dance earlier and ruined your fun,” he said. She was skeptical that he was sorry at all. “So I want to make amends.” Pointing to the VIP area, he leaned in, speaking mostly to Beth and Anna. “Ladies, I’ve got a booth in the VIP area over there, and I’d love for you all to join me.”

She knew that his offer wasn’t just to be nice, that there was something else happening behind that devilish smile. But before she could say anything, her friends all nodded in agreement.

“Hell yeah, let’s go,” Beth said, and Maria watched, annoyed as Alex stood between them, cupped his palms around their elbows and led them toward the VIP area, leaving Maria standing alone.

Alex took several steps before it looked like he finally realized she wasn’t following. He turned to face her, his lips turning upward in a grin, knowing he’d won. “Coming, Maria?”

Alex had come up on her and steamrollered her plans to have fun with her friends. Hell, there were a lot of places worse than the VIP area of one of the hottest clubs in Las Vegas. She knew what he was doing. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t play a game of her own. Maybe it was the opportunity to do something she’d always wanted to do.

“Yeah. Sure.”

* * *

Alex escorted Maria’s friends to the VIP area. But the women who flanked him didn’t hold his interest like the woman who trailed them stubbornly. Beth and Anna, as they’d introduced themselves, sat on one end of the semicircle couch. He waited until Maria took a seat next to them, and he sat next to her, again trying not to focus on the way her breasts shifted under her shirt as she moved, settling into the couch, or the way her skirt rode even farther up, revealing more of her tanned thighs. She was curvy, every inch of her body incredible, and he wanted to put his mouth and hands on her and discover her every secret. He blinked and then quickly looked away, hoping to banish the image from his mind.

Beth plucked the drink menu from the center of the low table in front of them and when the waitress came over to the table, she ordered a round of shots for them all. In just a couple of minutes, the cocktail waitress returned and placed a shot glass containing some kind of purple liquid in front of each of them.

Alex looked at the shots with a frown, and considered passing on what looked like little more than liquid candy, but then he shrugged. Who was he to turn down a round of shots with a trio of gorgeous women? So, raising his glass with them, he downed the shot.

His swallow was followed by a grimace. The thing was sweet, pure grape-flavored sugar, and he shuddered and felt his stomach try to revolt against it. To temper the sweetness, he took a mouthful of bourbon. The heat pleasantly covered the purple haze, and he sipped again for good measure. He leaned back with his glass and easily slung his arm over the back of the couch, above Maria, just inches away from what he believed must be the smoothest skin he’d ever desired to touch. He just hoped that he looked more casual than he felt.

She smiled and moved in closer to him, close enough to press her thigh against his, and he stiffened in response to her nearness.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she said.

Alex shrugged. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re seducing my friends with bottle service so they’ll stay close and then you can keep your eyes on me.”

Maria was good.

“And let me guess, you’ve already called Rafa and told him I’m here, and you promised to watch out for me, right?”

She was really good. He hadn’t called Raf yet, not wanting to interrupt his night with Jessica, but he’d honestly thought about it.

Alex said nothing but sipped his bourbon again. He could feel the alcohol start to warm him pleasantly from the inside. At least he hoped it was the alcohol, and not Maria’s effect on his anatomy.

The waitress approached. “Another round, ladies?”

Alex withdrew his black charge card and passed it to her. “This’ll cover it. And get the women whatever they want.”

The waitress took Alex’s card while the three of them tried to decide which $1,000 bottle of champagne they wanted. He laughed and leaned in, telling them they should probably order one of each. They wholeheartedly agreed.

“You’re going to regret that decision,” Maria said to him with a laugh. “You don’t know the damage this group can do when we have girls’ night out.”

Alex shrugged and smiled. He’d spent more money on way more frivolous items. It wasn’t an issue for him. He might have come from humble beginnings, but he and The Brotherhood had made themselves each quite a small fortune. He had the money, and knowing that his future was secured, he liked to spend it. Their eyes widened as the waitress brought the first bottle of champagne. He remembered being young, just out of grad school, MBA in hand and broke as a joke.

Maria and her friends were nice girls—women, he reminded himself. He knew that they worked hard together at the community center, and they deserved to be treated. Sure, Alex would be down a little cash, but a black-card-funded night in a VIP booth at a hot club probably wasn’t an everyday occurrence for them. He wanted the women to enjoy themselves, no matter what the cost. And maybe Maria had been right—as long as her friends were in his VIP booth, he knew that she wasn’t going anywhere. “Just have fun,” he told them, and remembering Gabe’s words earlier that evening, he smiled. “Get into a little bit of trouble.”