I clasped my bra, then adjusted the sheer black French panties London had bought for me. The dress was next, lying ready for me on the bed. I took one last look at the blown-out, untameable curls of my hair, then the sultry kohl outline of my eyes.
I looked good…really good.
Pity I was a fucking mess on the inside.
My pulse was erratic and out of control as I strode to the bed, glanced at the Louis Vuittons waiting on the floor, then grabbed the dress and stepped in. The heavy thud of footsteps approached. I braced myself as London came into my room and moved closer.
I knew it was him without turning…and God, my heart wasn’t ready.
But it didn’t matter. One look at him in his black-on-black suit and I was rendered speechless. He knew he looked good, too. Those dark eyes glinted even darker. Carven said he was like a shark on the hunt…and it looked like it as he placed a long jewelry box on the foot of my bed.
“Pet,” he said carefully as he stepped around me.
I shivered at the brush of his fingers along my spine. My breath caught as he leaned down and kissed my shoulder. ‘You look ravishing.”
“You don’t look like a hot mess yourself,” I murmured as I closed my eyes.
His deep chuckle made my body clench. Christ, he could do things to me with his amusement alone. The smile returned; the one he’d given me days ago when I was strapped to that bench, his machine driving all the way inside.
I lived for his smile.
For his laugh…
For his everything.
He gently tugged the zipper up, and I opened my eyes as he stepped around me, then this formidable, dangerous man slowly sank to his knees.
My pulse skipped.
“Use my shoulders, Vivienne.” He slid his hand along the back of my leg.
I did, gripping the strong muscles, lifting my foot and waiting for him to slide my shoes into place, one after the other. He took his time rising, then skimmed those big hands over my body until he met my stare. “Are you ready for tonight?”
I swallowed. “No.”
That grin grew wider, but he searched my eyes as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Do you trust me?”
That question made my stomach clench. To trust this man was a very dangerous thing to do…but then, so was loving him.
“Yes,” I answered.
That made him happy. He stepped away and leaned down to grab the box he’d placed on the bed.
“Another anklet?”
Excitement burned in his stare. “Not exactly.”
I looked down as he slowly opened the case. I thought it’d be diamonds, or gold. But I hadn’t expected leather.
He pulled out the sleek black leather choker with a black clasp, and as he tilted his hand, the light caught the deeply etched words.
Property of London St. James.
I flinched, then jerked my eyes up. He wasn’t serious…was he?
Oh…he was deadly serious. I looked at the choker in his hand once more. They’ll know. Those words rose in my memory. They’ll all know by the time I’m done.
Heat moved through my face. I felt his focus, his…excitement. He wanted this. He wanted me and he wanted the world to know who I belonged to.
My pussy throbbed, sending a wave of desire through me. I couldn’t stop this sickness inside me. I couldn’t stop from wanting to be craved by this man. A slow nod, and his eyes widened. He knew what this was for me…
The ultimate level of trust.
Do you trust me?
I stared at his look of utter delight as he stepped closer. The seductive scent of his cologne washed through me as he reached around and fixed the choker into place. I did trust him, so much it scared me.
“There.” He pulled back, met my stare, and lowered his gaze. His chest stilled at the sight of the leather around my neck. “It’s perfect,” he murmured. There was a look of pride on his face before he lifted his hand. “You ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
That made him laugh as he took my hand and led me out of the house. Guards swarmed around us as we headed to the car already waiting for us. The driver opened the rear door and I climbed in. Headlights bounced off a soft fog that swept around us, leaving me to shiver in the cold.
I scanned the others, searching for Colt, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. He hadn’t come to see me after Carven and he hadn’t left, I knew that. I winced, grabbed the phone London had bought me, and opened my messages.
I stared at message after message I’d sent to Carven…
Ones he hadn’t replied to.
Movement from the house captured my attention as Colt walked from the house. He didn’t look my way, nor did he look toward London. Instead, he climbed into the driver’s seat of the Explorer alone.
I typed out a message:
I need you.
I waited for a reply as London gave our driver directions then climbed inside. He took one look my way, then at the phone in my hand. “Everything okay?”
“He’s not answering his messages.”
“Carven?”
I nodded.
“Don’t worry. Sometimes he can be…busy.”
I winced at the word, my mind conjuring all sorts of terrifying images. He wouldn’t kill Jack. He knew how important he was to Ryth and to London. I turned to him as we pulled away from the house. Jack was important, but then that meant little when you were dealing with men like this.
They were violent and unpredictable at best.
Thud.
The car jolted as we hit the street and accelerated. London eased back, growing colder and more distant as we drove. I glanced at my phone once more, then shifted my gaze to the darkness outside. We drove into the city, toward the busy clubs and bars, and kept going.
Surprise rose as I glanced at London. “I thought we were going to some club?”
“We are,” he answered. “A very special club.”
I turned back to the view outside as we slipped away from the busy streets, then turned into a discreet driveway behind a towering, darkened building. If it wasn’t for the five other cars lined up at the dimly lit entrance, I would’ve thought we were at the wrong place.
But one look at the immaculate tuxedos and floor-length designer gowns of those heading through the massive black doors illuminated by soft white lights, and I knew we weren’t.
Something brushed my hand. I flinched as London entwined his fingers with mine. I realized this was important for him. Maybe tonight more than ever. I met his stare and grasped his hand as we pulled forward. Before I knew it, the car was stopped and our driver was out, opening the door for us.
I slid across the seat and followed London out. He waited, gripping my hand, his focus only on me. I shivered both at the attention and the night air that throbbed faintly with a heavy beat of music. Then we headed inside.
The black door led us to a hallway where a low white floor light illuminated the way until we came to a set of stairs. Others climbed casually, some chatting to companions. I glanced at London and followed. His hand went to the small of my back as he matched his pace with mine.
Servers greeted us with flutes of champagne. London took one, then held it out to me as he motioned toward the immaculate glass bar that seemed to stretch the entire length of the room.
I followed him to the bar and waited as he ordered for himself. No money was exchanged, no cards charged. What kind of party was this? The moment I turned around and followed him to where the other guests mingled, I knew exactly why we were there. Every one of them stopped, turned, and stared as we neared.
We were here to be admired and feared…to be seen, more than anything.
Because London St. James didn’t cower from anyone.
“London,” one of the men called, then shifted his gaze to me. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he answered, his hand tightening against my back.
Heads turned, watching another group as they stepped from the stairs.
“Dante,” the man who’d greeted us murmured.
I followed their focus to the Mafia leader and his stunning wife. The moment I saw her, something clenched inside me and a panicked feeling gathered like a storm. Dante followed London exactly, taking a glass of champagne for his wife before he headed to the bar. But unlike me, Meredith Ares wasn’t too shy to scan the room.
The moment our eyes locked, that panic rushed, making my pulse race. She held my stare, even as her husband joined her. One look our way, and Dante guided his wife toward us.
“Dante,” London murmured.
“St. James,” he answered as he glanced my way and gave me a careful nod. “Vivienne.”
But there wasn’t the usual undressing me with his eyes, unlike the other men who gawked. Instead, Dante turned his attention to his wife, who was still staring at me.
“Meredith.” London glanced her way. “You look beautiful, as always.”
She smiled, yet it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Dante. London.” The man who I assumed was our host drew their attention. “Allow me to introduce you to Kennedy Romanoff.”
“You okay?” London asked, leaning a little to meet my gaze.
“Sure, go ahead.”
He leaned closer and his arm slid around my waist as murmured in my ear. “I’ll be back in a second. I have something I want to show you.”
I watched him leave, and so did every other woman around me. Husbands left, but they all paled in comparison. But London didn’t go far, just enough to be out of earshot.
“Nice choker,” Meredith commented, drawing my focus. She stared at the leather around my throat, no doubt reading the inscription. “You’re a very lucky woman.”
A sentiment that burned in every jealous stare directed my way. They all wanted him. I could see that, even Meredith looked twice before returning her gaze to her husband. I focused on downing my drink before the waiter passed with more.
Heat rolled over me. I glanced at London who, even though he stood amongst the other powerful men, still stared at me.
The intensity in his stare was breath taking. Every dark, depraved thought he conjured was aimed at me. That hunger swept me away until there was no club, no room, no others standing around staring.
There was just him and me.
“Jesus, he is perfection,” one of the women muttered, jerking me back to reality.
I turned back to him as heat raced into my cheeks. He turned back to his colleagues, muttered something, then headed my way.
“Ready?” He held out his hand. I couldn’t take his fast enough. “Ladies,” he greeted, glancing their way before he turned back to me.
“London,” gushed the one who panted like a dog in heat.
But we were already leaving, headed for the rear of the room. I glanced over my shoulder to the stairs. “I thought we were leaving?”
“Not just yet. There’s another party I thought you might enjoy.”
He took my hand, leading me to another set of stairs that took us down this time. His hand on my back, with his body so close to mine, only added to the bliss I was feeling.
“This way.” He motioned, leading me along a dimly lit empty hallway.
A tremor coursed along my spine. But London was in his element here. He was the one in control. He opened a door toward the end of the hall and motioned me inside a smaller room.
I searched the dark corners, finding us alone. “London, what is this?”
He bent down, grabbed another glass of champagne for me, and held it up. “You trust me, right?”
I took the glass, unable to see the truth in his eyes as he cracked an unopened bottle of Scotch and poured it into a tumbler.
“Trust and apprehensiveness are two different things.”
He moved behind me, slid his hand around my waist to slide upwards, and cupped my breast. “So how can I ease that, pet?”
Through the gloom in front of me, the wall shimmered. His strong fingers brushed my nipple, sending desire coursing through my veins. I bit my lip and stifled a moan, my gaze fixed on the movement in front of me as what looked like black curtains slowly drew aside.
Lights were on in a room beyond ours, revealing men and women having sex. The glass wall between us was the only barrier. I stiffened at the sight, watching bodies entwined, cocks driving deep.
“London…”
“It’s okay,” his murmur was against my ear. “It’s a one-way glass, they can’t see us.”
His breath came against my neck, his focus not on the orgy in front of us…but on me. Jealousy flared. “Do you come here often?”
“Often? No.”
I turned around to face him. “But you have been here before, right?”
My insides clenched.
The excitement in his eyes seemed to dull. “Yes.”
My pulse was booming, imagining all the kinds of women he might’ve brought here.
“Once,” he continued coolly. “And I never wanted to come here again…until you.”
A pang tore through my chest at the pain in his tone. Whatever had happened clearly hadn’t been an enjoyable experience. “Why bring me?”
A spark of lust sparkled in his stare as he moved closer and slid his other hand around my waist. “I assumed that was obvious.” He lifted his gaze to the display in front of us. “I want you to experience everything when it comes to desire and lust.”
“As long as it’s between us and the sons, right? I don’t share, London.”
His smile was instant as he brushed my hair from my shoulders. “You never have to worry about that, pet. No other woman could compare.”
I gave a slow nod, finding ease in his focus. “You thought I might like…watching others?”
He gave a shrug, pulling me against him. “I think it’s good to see what doesn’t turn you on.”
I shifted my gaze to the display in the room and watched as one man sank low and settled between a gorgeous redhead’s thighs. A surge of excitement rose at the sight of her legs splayed wide and his mouth on her pussy.
I was transfixed by the sight, slowly sipping champagne as London moved behind me. But it wasn’t the others that drew my focus. I was aware of his hand on my hip and the warmth of that strong chest against my back.
Those fingers moved lower until they traced my abdomen. I knew what he was thinking.
“I know you’ve seen the app,” he whispered against my ear, his hand rising to brush the leather choker around my throat. “I know you understand what the vitamins are for, as well. I plan on taking you home tonight and putting a baby in your belly, Vivienne. I plan on making you mine in all the ways I can.”
I turned around, my breath catching.
“What do you think?” He bent, placed his glass down, and waited, searching my eyes.
From the moment I’d met London St. James, he’d been demanding and possessive, never once had he asked, ‘what do you think?’.
But here he was…his hope hanging on my reaction.
His brows tightened as he tried to read me.
I hadn’t allowed myself to think about it, to dream about it. But the idea of carrying this man’s child made me feel…intoxicated, and it had nothing to do with the champagne. “Yes,” I whispered. “That’s what I think…yes.”
His chest rose and fell with a huge breath. Surprise followed before he grinned. “Yes?”
I laughed. “Yes.”
The smile gave way to that carnal hunger as he captured my face in both his hands, staring deep into my eyes. “A baby,” he repeated. “Our baby.”
Our baby…
And our family.
Him, me, and the sons.
He pulled away, breaking the contact. “You’re not really interested in the display, are you?”
“No,” I whispered. “How can I be when I have you?”
He smiled, then took my glass. “Want to get out of here?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you’d never ask.”
