Risqué by Elena M. Reyes
9
I’ve been throbbing since I left her on that unworthy doorstep.
Hard. Skin taut. Balls heavy and nothing will appease my hunger until she’s pinned beneath me.
It’s why after four hours of restless sleep, of imagining those pouty lips wrapped around my girth, sucking me in deep, that I made plans and got dressed. I promised a date and I will deliver, but while she sleeps, I watch her door while intermittently reading the notes Kray had on Giannis Martin and his connections to Aliana.
Most of it was rubbish. Things that I already knew, but I am intrigued by a pattern of unaccounted disappearances a few times a week. Same days. No deviation on the hours.
I also take account of Kray’s neglect to add the woman Giannis left with inside this docket.
Which leaves me with two bloody conclusions…
“He’s either being protective or she’s covering her tracks.” Which one doesn’t matter. Before I get on a plane to London, he will atone for this oversight.
For now, I send Ezra an email with what I have on Giannis and ask him to cross check and then return my focus to the neighborhood’s occupants. To each of Aliana’s neighbors: an old lady three doors down, a couple to her right, a group of college kids, an empty townhouse, and then a man across the street who only comes and never stays longer than one night here and there.
No rhyme or reason.
No frontal picture of his face, as if he knows where the cameras are and avoids those angles.
But it’s enough for me to deduce that the owner knows her. There’s no other reason as to why someone would buy an expensive home under a fake alias and corporation as proof of income unless you’re hiding your tracks. There’s only a handful of criminals in this city worth a shit, and they all stay far away from the Jameson hold or Asher’s nose.
Could one of them be bold enough to make this move and try pushing their product? Yes.
Has anything been attempted since they purchased this property? No.
Which leaves me to think someone is spying on her. But who, though?
An ex.
A family member.
Someone that shows up unannounced to an outing.
There’s a vibration coming from my mobile alerting me to a text. Picking it up, I swipe my thumb across the screen.
I’m a few feet from your vehicle with the breakfast you requested. ~Kray
Tossing my mobile aside, I exit a few seconds later and watch the large man carrying my breakfast approach. In his hands is a bag with baked goods and a tray with a cuppa for me, and whatever sweet concoction with a dash of coffee Aliana drinks. They’re from a place near her school that she likes, a local bakery, and I know the gesture will be appreciated. I’m not hiding anything from her. She’ll know I pulled a background check and that every single moment cataloged from her birth to the current date is accessible to me.
“You know, Jameson. This isn’t in my job description,” Kray says while I place the items on the roof of my rental. “I’m not a gopher.”
“Yet you offered this morning, mate.” Grabbing my cup, I take a sip of the breakfast tea: no sugar, splash of milk. My eyes are already back on her door from the driveway of my recently purchased empty townhome next to hers. Because money talks, walks, and has everyone bending over to take it up the arse if enough zeroes are attached. This purchase took me less time to accomplish than ordering at a restaurant. “Uber Eats would’ve worked just fine.”
“So unappreciative, Jameson,” he snorts, but then his amusement dies. “I don’t think you’ll like what I found, by the way. There’s more to this than what I thought.”
“So, the missing information I requested was a mistake?”
“I need a few more days for her. Please.”
“Are you asking me as a mate or as the person paying you to do this?” He’s quick to try and answer, but I shake my head causing him to pause. “Think before you speak, Timmons. One is a favor, the other an admittance to neglect and I’m giving you the option here to save your own arse.”
“As my friend, Callum,” Kray says the moment I’m done. No hesitation. “She’s not a threat, I promise. We have history.”
“Three days.”
“Thank you.”
“Your loyalty thus far has earned you the benefit of the doubt, don’t disappoint me.” That’s the only warning I’ll give him, and he knows it. If Aliana’s hurt due to his idiocy, I’ll kill them both. The threat hangs heavy in the air, yet he places a hand over his heart in acceptance of my terms. “Now, what did you find? Is it about the property with the phantom owner behind me?”
“Yes.”
“Well?”
“Last night I pulled a few strings and traced the dummy company back to its owner, and you know him.” My reply is a wave of the hand for him to keep going. I have a woman to wake up and feed. “It’s Malcolm Asher.”
Interesting, yet I’m not buying it. Something reeks of rubbish in this equation.
“Do you have the paperwork with you?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure he’s the owner?”
“Not one bit.”
My eyes leave her door and focus on him. The bloke’s never lied to me yet. “What are your suspicions?”
“Someone’s using his name to cover up whatever they’re up to.”
“Agreed.” I scratch my jaw, my mind running through possibilities, planning how to rid Aliana of this arsehole that’s too close for comfort. Either you’re here for her, or you can involve her in the wrong place, wrong time scenario, which I don’t appreciate. “A dead man walking.”
“How deep do I go?”
“Until I have a name. No matter the cost.”
Kray nods, mobile in hand as he shoots off a series of texts. “I’ll have everything I find to you by tonight. No excuses.”
“Good.” The alarm on my mobile goes off then: it’s ten a.m. and Miss Rubens needs a reminder to get dressed. I’ve already let her sleep an extra hour. “Expect a call from me.”
“Where are we going again?”Aliana asks from beside me between sips of my cuppa—the same cup of tea she teased me about since I didn’t make it myself. Such a bratty little thing. More so when she just called me a pampered punk after I explained that a guard inspected our order.
Miss Rubens is the only person walking this earth that could get away with calling me that.
I’d shoot my own father if he’d made the same joke. Casper too.
But with her, I laugh and let it go. Love it, actually. The temptation. The foreplay.
I also let her steal my drink after she finished her sugar rush in a cup before walking out the door. The sinful little number she’s wearing today had a lot to do with that decision.
A white bodysuit with a plunging neckline, and a pair of jeans that accentuate her hips and arse, while on her feet she has on a pair of nude wedge sandals. Her body is on full display, each bloody curve highlighted while my eyes keep coming back to the two little beads poking through her top. She isn’t wearing a bra; her perky tits tempt me to nip each peak as they bounce in time with the car.
With each dip in the road, they strain against the cotton keeping them from me.
Each time I press the brake, a little more skin comes into view.
Motherfucking goddess of seduction.
“You’ll know when we get there, sweetheart. Be patient.”
“Patience is overrated.” Her huff is cute, as is the way she licks her bottom lip to catch a drop of tea. “Besides, what if I’m underdressed? Or I’m wearing the wrong kind of shoes?”
“I wouldn’t let you be uncomfortable, Miss Rubens. I’m prepared for all situations.” It’s the third time today I’ve said those words, the first time being seconds after she opened the door in nothing but a tank top and sleep shorts, looking rumpled and warm.
“Whatever it is, I’m not buying, nor do I care about saving the world at this time of day. Please come back during my non-sleep and on non-weekend hours.”
“Good morning to you too, love.” At my greeting, her head snapped up and a second later the door was slammed in my face. From inside, I could hear her grumbling and a few noises that made no sense, but I still found so attractive. What are you doing to me, Venus? “Open the door, Aliana. We’re going to be late, and I brought food.”
“Food?” she asks, voice low. Almost too low to hear, but I catch it and bite back a chuckle. I’ve never felt so relaxed around someone before. Not like this. “Does the order come with any form of caffeine?”
“It might.”
“I need a yes or no answer, Mr. Jameson.”
“You’ll have to open the door and see for yourself, Miss Rubens.”
“Not really.” From the other side of the door, there’s a snicker and even that sound makes my cock twitch. “That’s what peepholes and my Ring camera are for.”
“True. You could...”
“Why is there a but in that pause?”
“Because it’s on you if the drink which you desire turns cold.” I’ve never seen someone open a door so fast. A second later, she was tapping her small foot and holding a hand out with an expectant face. “Good morning, Miss Rubens. Ready to try this again?”
“My coffee, please.”
“So polite.” There’s a flash of annoyance in her eyes, but that’s dashed the second I hand over her cup and the bag of baked goods. Then, she’s all smiles and stepping aside so I can enter while she swallows half the contents in the cup in one go. “I’ll close the door.”
“Sure,” she says, but her attention is on the bag as she pulls out an orange and cranberry scone. For a few minutes, Aliana just looks at it before lifting her eyes to mine. “How did you know?”
“I have my ways.”
“You were serious, weren’t you? You’ve been watching me?”
“Yes, on both accounts.” Closing the distance between us, I step beside her at the breakfast bar. “So eat, take a shower, and dress however you see fit. I’m taking you out, and there’s no getting out of it.”
“Who says?” The question loses all merit when a small smile curls at the edge of her lips.
“Me.”
“Me who?”
“The man your mother warned you to avoid at all costs.”
“We’re here,” I say, turning off the ignition after parking in the designated spot. It’s an undisclosed building about a fifty-minute drive from Aliana’s home; it’s all red brick with one large glass door and the letter R above it in bright white neon. There’s no one outside and only a car at the furthest end occupies the lot, but I send a quick text ahead of exiting. “Ready?”
“Is this where you kill people?” she asks as soon as I open her door, extending a hand for her to take. Christ. This woman amuses me. Aliana undoes her seatbelt and grabs my hand, letting me tug her out while looking around and seeing how isolated we are. The area we’re in is affluent, private, and holds a business or two with a morally grey clientele. This building in particular is owned by a chef and is a private test kitchen, and he’s been gracious enough to host us for a minimal fee. “Because if that’s the case, I’m out. I’ve watched way too many CSI shows and know that buildings like this, isolated and empty, scream danger.”
And yet, she walks beside me. There’s a bit of trust there.
“First rule…” throwing an arm over her shoulders, I tug her with me to the boot of the car “… never believe your kidnapper or the person assaulting you. They’d never tell you the truth.”
Not that I’m going to let anyone get close enough.
I’m going to enjoy dismembering anyone who touches a hair on her head.
My eyes go to the side of her neck on the left where a finger-sized bruise sits just below her ear, and I breathe in deeply and fight to find my calm and not demand answers—a name to engrave on the bullet they’ll meet soon enough. I will find out. They will pay in blood.
But I don’t voice my vow, dry swallowing the building ire at its sight. This is our first date, and I won’t ruin it.
Then, there are her words about being free and having a choice. Her appreciation of me considering her wants or needs.
All this is starting to paint a picture full of utter shit I don’t like, one I need to verify before I make her bury someone she cares for by mistake.
“So what do you suggest, then?”
“I’m going to give you one of my guns and teach you how to shoot. I never want you to be defenseless.”
“Really?” The excitement in her voice is endearing. “I’ve always wanted to learn, but my father’s a bit chauvinistic in that regard.”
“I’m not him.” Unlocking the trunk, I grab a zip-up hoodie and close it.
“I see that.” Aliana clears her throat, looking down at my hand holding the sweatshirt. “Are you cold?”
“No, love.” Bringing my lips to just below her ear, I kiss the fragrant skin there, exhaling roughly when she rewards me with a sweet sigh. “This is just in case you get cold in there. We’ll be here a while, and I want you to be comfortable.”
“What is in there?”
“Our first date.” Goose bumps rise, a shiver of sensitivity across her processors when I nip her neck. I pull Aliana closer, walk toward the entrance with her body nestled against mine.
There’s a man standing there now; he’s in a chef’s jacket and greeting us with a polite smile. “Welcome to Casa de Reyes, Mr. Jameson. We’re delighted to have you both with us today.”
“Holy shit.” Aliana’s whispered curse makes me laugh, while the chef and owner of this place bites the inside of his cheek to hold his own amusement in. “You brought me here to—”
“Yes, sweet girl. Today we will learn how to cook paella.”