Consumed (3 page)

Adrian

My hardened jaw shifts from left to right as I stare at the classic car photos on my wall. I think about how far Victoria and I have come since that first day she entered my office, but I still don’t feel I have a grasp on our relationship.

What will enable me to break down her walls? Her surrender is the reassurance I need to know she’s committed to me.

Victoria needs to hear three words. What if Reggie says them first? What if he fights for her today? I’ll fucking hurt him. The knock on my door brings me back to the moment.

“Come in,” I say. My younger brother, Xavier, enters. It’s been a while since we’ve talked.

“Zev, hi.”

“Hey, Ace.”

I lift my forearm to take a glance at my watch.

“It’s before five p.m., and you’re up. I’m impressed.” I smirk at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m out of bed before five almost every day, and I guess you forgot that I don’t get to bed before five
a.m.
most days.”

He fools with the pieces of his hair he has messy in the front, and glances around my office.

“I forgot how big this space is.”

“What do you need, Zev?”

“Two hundred grand.”

I laugh but only for a second because I see from his expression that he’s dead serious. “For what?”

“I would rather you not ask that.”

“Well, that’s not an option.”

His hazel eyes look away from me as he drags his teeth over his bottom lip. “Noah Sanders is running up a pretty big tab at Caged.”

“If you’re using the money for that, then it’s not a tab.”

“I’m only needing some cash to float until I get him to pay up. He’s coming to the club almost every night after leaving the Royal lounge, and his idea of what he’s entitled to and mine are different.”

“If those lines are blurred, then you didn’t make them clear enough to begin with,” I say curtly.

“Alright, bro. I get it.” Zev slides a hand over his dark hair, further messing it up.

“You better remind him soon that those dues he pays each month are for him to play in Royal only.” Turning to my laptop, I type in Mr. Sander’s name on the keyboard. I scroll through the history of his purchases.

“I can tell you where his money is going. He’s renting the submission rooms a few nights a week. He pays that bill, so that means he’s using you, bro.”

“You know, it’s kind of hard to balance how much to do for him to gain his trust.” Zev’s brow furrows. “I’m trying to show him I’m his friend. I’m doing everything in my power to ensure we nail the bastard and avoid prison.”

“I’ll get the funds moved.”

“Thank you,” he says, releasing a breath as if he’s relieved we can drop this. He strolls over to the minibar and pours himself a drink.

“So, how is Victoria?”

“Stubborn as hell.”

He chuckles. “That isn’t how I meant, but OK. You know, you’re never going to break her. Women like that don’t give in. Hell, they barely let you bend them over the sofa.”

“Thank you, philosopher Xavier.”

Barely glancing over, he points at me before he puts the top back onto the decanter. “Seriously, it’s why I don’t even bother with the ones who have brains and ambition. They want to be in control, and that’s not happening.”

“I’ve hit a point in my life where I’m bored with the women who submit so easily and have no damn voice, but Victoria takes it too far the other direction.

“She’s independent to a damn fault. It’s one of the only faults I can find, so she’s absolutely worth the challenge.”

He sips his drink and licks his lips.

“I told you, Ace, women like her don’t break.”

“And I’ll accept it if she only bends.”

Victoria

“What the hell is this?” Bishop asks, waving in front of his face the doctor’s note I handed him.

“It’s my release.”

“It’s been a week. What did you do? Did you threaten the doctor to get him to sign it?” My eyes dart around the room. “Detective Hart, did you threaten the doctor?”

I sigh and glance to Bishop. “No, I didn’t threaten him.” I have to look away before I spill the rest. “I only mentioned the day I saw him checking out of the Bellagio at two in the afternoon on a Tuesday.”

I grin. “Oh, did I mention he wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t his wife who was with him?”

“You’re impossible. Fine, you can return to work, but your ass doesn’t leave that chair at your desk. Do you understand me?”

I throw my head back and gaze at the ceiling, feeling the pain from that not so wise move.

“But I hate paperwork. It’s so boring.” I want to continue, but I’m whining like my coworker, Tucker, so I shut up.

“Too bad. You’re behind on it, and you shouldn’t have went to interview that girl alone in the first place. Had Reggie been with you, you might not have gotten hurt, and that young woman might still be alive.”

I slowly lower my head to scowl at him.

He rubs his forehead. “Victoria, I’m sorry. I don’t believe that, so I don’t know why I said it. If Noah Sanders wanted Molly Pennington dead, he would’ve gotten to her one way or another. I’m pissed we don’t have enough evidence from the crime scene to link him to her murder or your assault.”

“You said it because my behavior annoys you like it annoys everyone else.” I leave his office without another look or word.

On my way to my desk, I glance over at Reggie. His eyes are glued to mine, attempting to read my distraught emotions.

I know him well enough to say that he’s dying to hear the details of my conversation with Bishop, but he doesn’t ask. He’s too pissed at me.

My phone vibrates, so I pull it from my pocket.

Adrian:
I still want to bite your ass, but I’m sorry about last night and this morning.

Chuckling aloud, I swivel my chair the opposite direction of Reg. I can’t erase the grin I’m divulging. Adrian’s message managed to erase the notion that this entire day sucks. As of now, it’s perfect.

Me:
I’m sorry, too, but I’m a virgin to ass biting. I don’t know if I’m ready to take it to the next level.

Adrian:
Maybe you need some romancing first. Would you go on a date with me tonight?

Me:
As long as this date involves food, I accept.

Adrian:
Pick you up at six?

Me:
Sure and thank you. Your apology couldn’t have come at a better time.

Simon

“He thinks she’s a cop?” I ask Kruse over the phone.

“Look, I’m only telling you what Tommy saw. He claims some guy showed up at her place this morning. He said they looked like they were arguing on the sidewalk. Then, they rode together to the police station and went inside.”

“That doesn’t make her a damn cop,” I say as I pull a piece of gum from the pocket of my pants.

“He’s been by the place four times in the last five hours. The car is still parked there.”

Interesting. I recall all my interactions with Victoria and what I’ve observed from her. Her kickass, fearless behavior does lean toward the suspicious side. My gut told me something wasn’t right the first time I spotted her in Elite.

“Tell him to head back to Submission and follow her again tomorrow.” I end the call with Kruse and contemplate how I’ll proceed if Victoria is indeed a cop.

Adrian

After pulling up at Victoria’s apartment in the Aston Martin, I get out to go to her door, but she exits before I get there.

“I’m beginning to think you don’t want me to see your apartment,” I say as I stand on the sidewalk.

“Another day. I’ve barely been here, so it needs a thorough cleaning.”

“I can arrange that for you.” I rub my forehead. “Shit, I should’ve thought to hire someone to clean for you after you were injured. I’m sorry.”

A broad grin illuminates her young looking skin.

“You’re sweet, but I’m not your responsibility.”

I want to yank her ass to me after that comment, but I’m worried it could hurt her head. As soon as she’s close enough, I grasp her wrist and carefully pull her into my arms.

“Like hell you’re not.” With a dire need to taste her sweetness, my mouth captures hers. Victoria’s fingers drift up my back and into my hair, eliciting a rumble from me in an instant.

My dick is already rigid, twitching in search for her warm, tight pussy. “Dammit,” I say harshly after freeing my lips.

“What’s wrong?” she asks alarmingly.

“The only thing wrong is the fact I can’t bury myself inside you.”

“You know, it’s only my head that is injured.” She’s smiling seductively, making this more difficult.

“No, you have to heal first.”

A grimace extinguishes her smile, and she separates us to stroll to the car. “Who said? I feel fine.” Her withdraw doesn’t go unnoticed. Anytime Victoria thinks you might be controlling an aspect of her life, she’s setting you straight.

“Where are we going?” she asks once buckled. I glance over, and it dawns on me that she’s in a dress. Her smooth thighs are being flaunted, and damn, it’s going to be a long evening.

“Aside from at Rick’s, I haven’t seen you in a dress. I didn’t get to admire you in the one you were wearing that night, and I’d like the opportunity.”

“Oh, I borrowed that gown from Tara.” She tugs on the hem of her coral dress, trying to pull it down her legs. “I always wear jeans, but I thought I’d give this a try for you.”

Cautiously leaning her head back against the seat, she turns it and smiles over at me. “It has easy access.”

Growling under my breath, I squeeze her knee.

“You look sexy, and I think you’re trying to pay me back for our argument this morning.”

Fingers play with my hair, and the lust possessing her eyes is drawing me in, too. “No, I want to make it up to you. I know I was being difficult.”

Her fingertips crawl down my arm before they spread over my hard cock. For what she’s been through, she’s in an aggressive mood. I cover her hand with mine and can’t resist pushing on it briefly.

“Fuck, you’re killing me, Victoria.”

Moving her hand off of me, I adjust my cock in my black cargo shorts and turn over the ignition. She’s snickering as I take hold of her fingers to hold them.

Yeah, long–fucking–night–ahead. I see what she’s doing. If she gets me to have sex, then she’ll be calling the shots. Not happening.

Victoria

“Please tell me where we’re going.”

“You’ll see,” he says. My hand is brought to his lips, and he kisses it without taking his gaze off the road.

“There is food in here. I smell it.” Feeling hungry, I keep looking behind his seat.

“There is food in here,” he says, chuckling. “Since the curiosity is obviously killing you, I will disclose we’re having a picnic.”

“No one has ever taken me on a picnic before. That’s … romantic.”

He glances over a couple of times.

“Is that OK?”

Hmm … did I make it sound like that’s not OK?

I’ve gone without a boyfriend for most of my adult life, and I spend my weekends playing poker and drinking beer with the guys from the station.

Before Adrian, I hadn’t experienced many romantic gestures. Flowers and a heart-shaped container of chocolates at Valentine’s Day pretty much summed it up.

“It’s not OK,” he says before he’s releasing my hand and gripping the steering wheel. Grabbing his fingers, I peel them off of it and kiss every knuckle.

“It’s wonderful, Adrian. It’s new to me, is all. I’ve never received the special treatment you want to give me, and I was simply recalling that I never have.”

He’s grinning now, and I believe this might be the “stupidly happy” grin he has made reference to on a few occasions.

“Prepare yourself, my Queen of Hearts. I’m determined to ‘wow’ you every chance I get.”

“You already do. ‘Holy shit’ was my first thought when you turned around in your chair the day I met you. It’s been a wild ride ever since, and I don’t see a dull moment in my future.”

His eyes go back to the road as his grin hangs on tightly. He makes a turn into a driveway and comes to a stop in front of a gate.

A code is punched in, causing the black rod-iron to slide open. We proceed ahead, and at the end of the long driveway is a monstrous home.

The European architecture is evident from the tan, stucco exterior to the clay roof tiles on the two-story masterpiece. Stone ledges and palm trees are an accent to the Tuscan feel of the property.

Once we’re almost to the house, the drive splits off to the left, and Adrian veers that direction. It goes over a small hill and back up before we stop about an eighth of a mile from the mansion.

A massive garage sits before us that is surrounded by a tall, rod-iron gate, similar to the one at the entrance of the property. The roof even has the same red, clay tiles as those on the main home.

After Adrian types a code into another keypad, the gate slides open for us to enter. I count eight doors going across the garage.

“Are you going to explain soon?”

“This is Theo’s property, but this garage is mine. My babies are kept in here.”

“I think you can go to jail for that, especially if they’re left unsupervised.”

He smiles before unbuckling. “No children have been harmed. I promise.” Stepping from the car, I shield my eyes from the western sun. Adrian points to the first garage door as he walks to the second.

“The Mustang is in there, but I have a different ride I want to show you.” He approaches yet another keypad and punches in a number. The door slowly rises, and I stroll over until I’m centered in front of it.

“Adrian, I can’t believe I’m seeing this.” I cover my mouth and stare. Before me is a rare, classic Ford Roadster. “What year is this? No, let me guess … 1937?”

Striding back to me, his arm wraps around my waist before his lips meet my temple.

“Correct, and I can’t even describe how cool it is that you know that and are interested.”

“Interested, obsessed is more like it.” A peck on the cheek is all he gets in return before I’m bustling into the garage to inspect the exquisite vehicle.

The two-seater is pristine with its milky white paint and black convertible top, which I help Adrian lower. The wheels are covered by wide fenders, giving it an edgy appeal.

Concentrating, I stalk alongside the vehicle manufactured by Ford Germany, and I store to memory the sight of such a rare vehicle.

The older style components, including the gauges, have been modified some, but the German script is still visible inside the facing.

“Original steel body,” Adrian says. “Get in the passenger seat.” I do as he says and inspect the interior with more scrutiny as he treads back to his Vanquish.

Returning with a wicker picnic basket and beige blanket, he sets them down on my lap before getting into the driver side.

The brown, woven basket is closed with leather straps and gold buckles. I hold it still in my lap as he starts the car, which I’m reluctant to be sitting in.

“Are you sure you want to put another mile on this?”

He frowns as if I have irritated him.

“We’re going to have to break you of this anxiety over putting wear on these vehicles.” Slowly, he pulls out of the garage and continues along the road we came in on, heading farther away from the house.

We ride up a hill on the paved drive until the home is distant behind us. Once again, I cover my mouth in amazement when we reach the top.

The road comes to a dead end and makes a circle similar to the one in front of Theo’s home, but there is no mansion before us; it’s the entire city of Las Vegas.

In a beat, I’m out of the car. I view the bustle of a city from above instead of being immersed in it for a change. The remarkable view below gives me a sense of separation from the chaos of life. It’s the daily living that keeps interfering with the happiness I feel in Adrian’s presence.

It also gives clarity to how alone I am with him at this very moment. His arms encircle me from behind, his heated breath in my ear.

“Being able to take you away from there and view it from here might make this my new favorite place.”

“Wow, I was thinking something similar.”

“Let’s eat while we enjoy the view.”

Releasing me, he goes to retrieve the basket of food and blanket, which matches the dirt terrain. After spreading it out, we take a seat, and I notice the patches of Bermuda grass that have found an escape to grow around us.

Unsure of how to sit in this sundress, I stretch my legs out in front of me and cross them at my ankles. Adrian withdraws two black containers and hands me one of them.

Upon removing the round, plastic lid, I inspect the colorful salad. Chilled, poached shrimp sits to the side of crisp, green and purple lettuce. There are pear halves, hearts of palm and grape tomatoes.

“Cilantro-lime dressing,” he says with a smile as he hands me another small container. I’ve never seen a fancier salad, and it reminds me of the two different worlds Adrian and I live in. “I have something more sinful to feed you for dessert.”

My eyes lift and watch as his travel up the length of my bare legs. They roam over my stomach, his gaze dragging a heat along with it that is scorching my body.

If we don’t return our attention to salad, neither of us will be having dinner.