“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there in twenty.”

  “Hurry up, this one won’t be waiting all night.” It isn’t the girl enticing me to go, it’s the thought of alcohol running through my veins and loud music pumping through my ears. It’s enough of a distraction to get Jase and Skye and the whole fucking Blackcreek Pack off my mind.

  I end the call before he can say another word, grab my suit jacket and throw it on while slipping on my shoes. I make sure I have my keys and wallet before picking up my phone and requesting an Uber.

  The elevator is quick, and I’m downstairs in minutes, the Uber already waiting for me out front. I hop into the back and scroll through some work emails during the ride.

  The line is around the building when we pull up, but I don’t bother going to the end of it. The bouncer nods his head to me and moves to the side when I reach the door while people in the line groan and cuss at me, but I’m used to it. I flip them my middle finger as I head inside. That only pisses them off more.

  People always get pissed when someone else gets something they want. If they want to get into the club bad enough, then they should become friends with the owner’s brother. It’s that fucking simple.

  Not that it’s the only reason I’m friends with Marco. In fact, I didn’t know the asshole had a brother who owned a bar the first time I met him, which was at some stupid breakfast a client invited me to—one we share—and we hit it off. Later that night, we were both hanging out at The Denvers, picking up girls, and thankfully we have different tastes, so we got along splendidly.

  “Bro!” Marco spots me as I make my way out of the crowd, moving towards the back corner that’s shut off just for him and whoever he feels like bringing for the night. Tonight, it’s him, a handful of girls, and some guy I don’t recognize. Marco is dressed as pristine as ever in a white suit and black shirt that would look stupid as hell on anyone else, but he can pull it off. His dark hair is shaved down to almost nothing, just like the hair on his face.

  The Denvers is one of the nicer bars in the area, the kind that not just anyone can get into. If you don’t make on the higher-end of six-figures, then you shouldn’t even try to get in. It’s why the people waiting outside in the line will never see the inside of the place, and instead will waste their time waiting like lost puppies, hoping one of us rich bastards will spot a hottie and invite them in. Probably the exact way these girls Marco has with him got in. Women who make money like we do don’t act like those girls do. They don’t have to. They have money to use instead of their bodies—but that’s no fun.

  “Marco!” I call out to him over the bumping bass of the club music. His arms are wide and I go in for a hug when I reach him.

  “I already got you a drink. Come on, come sit down. Get to know Desireah.” He leans in close. “She’s from out of town and looking to have a good time tonight.”

  And go home pregnant, then collect the payoff nine months later and for eighteen years to come, I bet.

  Still, I’ll play the game because it’s what we do. Will I sleep with the girl? Probably not, but it’s possible. I never know how I’ll feel at the end of the night, but if I do, my dick will be double wrapped. I’m many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

  I make my way into the semi-circle lounge section and sit beside Desireah. She hands me a glass of what I assume is whiskey and I take a sip as I rest back against the cushioned sofa. She turns her body towards me, resting her hand on my thigh. Yep, this girl is trying to make a pretty penny off some rich guy here tonight, and even though there are plenty of people willing to risk it, I’m not one of them, so the poor girl is wasting her time.

  The number of scandals that happen in this place is both concerning and disturbing. I can’t fathom the amount of money men payout to women to keep their mouths shut after a night here.

  “Bro, what the fuck happened at your office today?” Marco asks as he sits down on the couch across from me. He’s speaking loud enough for me to hear him over the music, but I still lean in closer and the girl beside me uses the movement to snuggle closer.

  “Who told you something happened?” I sip my drink, allowing the woody flavor to take over my mouth. I keep my tone and expression even, not wanting to show any sort of emotion on the matter so they don’t think it’s a big deal. Last thing I need is some gossip hitting the offices about a psycho CEO.

  Marco nods his head towards the guy sitting on the other couch, the one I don’t know. He looks like your average douchebag. Suit a little too big, watch too loose, earrings way too fucking gold. “Pete here works with Debbie’s roommate.”

  “That so?” I ask, looking over to him skeptically. He nods. Huh. I wonder what other information gets spread around from my office because of him. “She tell you all the hot gossip about Stone Trading?”

  “Nah, man. Never. I mean, Theresa, the one I work with, that girl doesn’t stop talking, but she never has gossip from Debbie. Not until today.”

  “Why’s that?” I shout over the music. Pete leans back, the girl he’s with moving closer to his side, throwing her leg over his lap, and I get a glimpse of her ass cheek, which looks pretty nice and slightly tempting, but quickly pull my eyes away and look back at Pete.

  “Said she came home a mess. Was shaking, nervous, could barely speak. Theresa thought she’d been mugged or something, but come to find out, she was upset about some incident at work. She asked if we had any positions open.”

  I raise a brow and he holds up his hand. “She swore Debbie didn’t wanna leave, said she trusts you to handle it, but Theresa... she’s a whole different breed.” He takes a sip of his beer and I turn my attention back to Marco.

  “So you gonna share?” He grins wide.

  I sip my whiskey, focusing on the burn it causes in my throat as I think over his words for a moment. “Nothing to share, really. Crazy guy comes in, threatens me and my secretary, I roughed him up and kicked him out. That’s it.”

  “You didn’t call security?” Desireah asks, running her hand up my bicep in the most desperate way. She’s pretty, I’ll give her that. Light brown hair, dark blue eyes, and full lips that would look great wrapped around my cock. She doesn’t have too much makeup on, which is a plus. I can’t stand a girl who piles on makeup like a second skin. And her tits look real from her. Another plus.

  “Took care of it all on my own, sweet thing.” I wink at her before bringing my gaze to Marco again. “So what’s up with you? You get the Brookes account all set yet?”

  Marco and I don’t officially work together, mostly because I don’t trust anyone and don’t want to merge my business with a single person, but he’s good at what he does. He’s an accountant and handles big accounts, the same as I handle the investments and trades. We’d do well to work together, double-teaming people and making more money, I’m sure, but like I said, I don’t trust anyone. So instead, we send clients back and forth and let them make their own decisions.

  “It’s handled. Don’t you worry. I don’t wanna talk shop tonight, though, Jensen,” he warns, shaking his head and finishing off his drink.

  I roll my eyes, knowing that only means one thing. He wants to get drunk and laid. Both will happen. Drinking is easy, and he’s already got two blondes hanging all over him. Both of which will most likely take it up their ass if he asked nicely. He’s got a threesome in his near future, there’s no doubt in my mind. At one point, I’d have been either jealous or right there with him. Today, though, I’m not feeling it.

  “Got it,” I respond, holding up my glass in a silent salute. He does the same and we both go to drink, which is when he notices his glass is empty and gestures to a waitress walking by who nods and turns back towards the bar. VIP status is priceless.

  For the next couple of hours, I do my best to forget about work and my asshole brother causing a scene that is bound to get around town by daybreak, and focus on having fun.

  It’s easier said than done, and I find myself nursing drinks instead of pounding them back, sitting by myself instead of dancing, and losing myself in thought instead of listening to the conversations going on around me.

  Something about hearing her name has thrown me off. Almost like I can feel in my bones that Jase was telling the truth. That maybe this time it has nothing to do with him, and Skye really needs me.

  Chapter Three

  Jensen

  Well, I’m drunk.

  Stumbling on my feet, slurring my words, laughing at everything that’s said kind of drunk.

  It’s close to two-thirty in the morning and the DJ shouted last call forty-five minutes ago, but thanks to knowing the owner, we got to stay a little longer. As did the girls we’re with, who are looking more and more appealing as the night goes on.

  We only just left, and now the seven of us are walking down the main street, heading in the direction of Marco’s place—we think, anyway. It’s entirely possible we’re going the wrong way. All these big-ass buildings look the same in the dark and through alcohol-fogged vision..

  “Nope! Look, there’s that fucking grizzly bear!”

  Marco’s obsession with that stupid bear is annoying, and the fact that he calls it a grizzly when it’s clearly a black bear is even more irritating, but I don’t correct him. He’ll want to know how the hell I know all kinds of shit about bears, and I’m not in the mood to explain it. Or maybe I’m not in the mood to lie, worried I’ll spill all my secrets about being a fucking shifter. Regardless, this bear lets us know we’re going in the right direction on drunken nights like this. Marco’s place is only another three blocks down.

  As we pass the statue of the bear, we reach another bar that a crowd of people pour out of. It’s on the lower-end and probably has a handful of warnings for shit like this, but the owner is a big name, one who owns a shit ton of bars and gets away with whatever he wants, so letting people drink late isn’t a problem for him. Truthfully, I don’t care what anyone else does, as long as they leave me alone. Let the bars stay open all night long, for all I care. I’m not hearing anyone screaming and shouting from my penthouse, so go for it.

  My group breaks up, trying to get through the swarm of people coming out who are just as drunk, if not more, than us. At the end of the building, someone grabs my arm and pulls. It takes a few seconds to realize it’s the girl I’m with, the one who has a name but I can’t remember it... obviously I don’t care enough about it. She’s pulled me into a dark alley and now she’s kissing my neck which feels both weird and good at the same time. Against my own judgment, I slide my hands up her thighs and around her ass to squeeze. Her skin is smooth and warm and so fucking tempting. She moans in my ear, a deep sultry sound that has my cock stirring.

  I hate it.

  Hate that my body reacts to anyone but her.

  And I hate even more that she’s been on my mind ever since Jase showed his face here and spoke her name.

  The girl pushes me and my back hits the brick wall, pulling my thoughts from Skye. This girl moves with me, rubbing her body against mine until her hand finds my semi-hard cock. She moans in satisfaction as if this half-mast dick is impressive. I assure you, it’s not. Fully erect? Yeah, that’s something to hum about, but not this, and the fact she seems happy about it is even more disturbing.

  “You can fuck me if you want,” she whispers before dragging her tongue down my neck. “I like it rough though.”

  Ugh, desperation. I fucking hate how desperate these bitches are.

  I’m in a pretty hateful mood tonight. Sucks to be this chick... whatever her name is.

  “That’s probably not a good idea,” I say, though my body doesn’t quite agree with me as my hands continue to slide up until I’m brushing the sides of her breasts.

  “Oh, come on,” she coos, stroking my dick from outside my slacks which, against my own wishes, hardens further.

  “I can’t,” I repeat, my hips grinding against her, wanting her to touch me harder. Clearly my body is not on the same page as my brain.

  “How about just a blow job then?”

  I raise a brow, though she certainly can’t see it in the dark. Now a blow job is not something I can argue with. I just hope she doesn’t expect me to call her tomorrow or anything. I will not be returning the favor... ever.

  “Fine.” The word comes out as if her getting on her knees and sucking me off is some sort of inconvenience to me. It isn’t. I’m thankful tonight isn’t a whiskey-dick night. Now that shit is inconvenient as fuck.

  This girl crouches down and works at my pants quickly to free me. She doesn’t hesitate to take me into her mouth, sucking like her name should have been Hoover instead of... whatever the fuck it is. My head falls back against the brick wall and I drown out the sounds of the city at night and focus on this warm mouth around my dick.

  My hand finds the back of her head and I guide her along, holding her against me for a few seconds to get nice and deep down her throat. She doesn’t complain, doesn’t gag, nothing. She just takes it, and for some reason, that annoys me. I don’t stop her though. Just keep guiding her along, trying to force myself to enjoy this.

  Her hair is soft under my hand, and it throws me into a memory I can’t push away.

  “Just let me do it,” I say for the third time.

  “I can do it myself, Jensen,” Skye complains playfully.

  “I know you can, but I want to do it for you.”

  “Do you even know how?” Skye turns to me, her big, golden eyes bright and full of life. Her hands are planted on her hips and her lips are down in that familiar frown that looks so damn adorable on her, and I can’t help but smile.

  “You’ve shown me before. Now come here.”

  With a huff, she moves towards me, all the while mumbling under her breath. She turns and sits on the floor in front of the bed, and I scoot behind her, taking her hair into my hands.

  “I’ll never be good at braiding your hair if you don’t let me do it,” I say, dividing the strands into three parts.

  She sighs. “I know. I just want tonight to be perfect.”

  I drop the strands and run my fingers through her hair to get out all the knots, even though I know there won’t be any. Her hair is always so soft and smooth, never a tangle in sight. I could run my fingers through it all day, and I’d find any reason to do so... which is why I do it now.

  I lean forward and kiss the top of her head.

  “It will be perfect. So stop wo—”

  “Hello? Earth to Jensen!” I snap out of the memory and blink my eyes open. It’s dark. Where the fuck am I? I look around. Fuck… I’m in a fucking alleyway, and there’s a pissed off girl standing in front of me, scowling, though I can just barely make her out between the dark and my drunk ass. A cool breeze has me realizing my dick is out... and soft as a limp noodle.

  I think she was giving me a blow job and I definitely didn’t come, so... this is why she’s mad. Got it.

  “Sorry,” I grunt, tucking myself back in. “I’ve drank a lot. Maybe we should just go.”

  She huffs out an annoyed sound and stomps off, disappearing around the corner. I let out a groan, knowing I’m going to have to go after her. It’s the middle of the night and these streets aren’t safe. She shouldn’t be walking around alone.

  “Yo, hold on!” I shout, noticing she’s already a whole block down. She doesn’t wait, just keeps moving forward. I jog to catch up with her, moving in front of her to stop her, but she veers around me and keeps going. “How about I just get you an Uber home, yeah? Where do you live?” I pull out my phone and unlock it. She keeps walking, and I walk backwards to keep up with her and hold her gaze.

  She narrows her eyes at me before nodding her head in agreement. I see in her eyes that she’s just as drunk as I am—as I was, considering that memory sobered me up a hell of a lot—and I probably shouldn’t have agreed to let her touch my dick at all.

  We come to a stop, and I give her my phone once the app is open and she enters her address. It’s not the best part of town, but it isn’t the worst either.

  “It’ll be here in three minutes.” I place my hand on her lower back and guide her to a set of steps that lead up to an apartment building and gesture for her to sit. She does, but I stay standing, lingering off to the side and going through emails to keep myself busy. Soon enough, the Uber shows up and I help her in and close the door, then I tap on the front passenger’s side window. The guy in the front rolls it down and leans over so I can see him better as I duck down.

  “If I find out she doesn’t make it home safe, I’m hunting you down and skinning you, ya got it?”

  The kid looks to be in his early twenties and now looks like he’s about to shit himself.

  “Yeah, bro. Of course. I’ll even walk her to her door.”

  “Good.” I look into the back seat towards the girl and find she’s already sleeping. I tap on the door before backing up and watching it drive off, giving the driver a mean mug just to drill it in.

  Maybe I should have gone with them to make sure she gets home okay, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. My threats usually work on whoever they’re aimed at.

  Once the taillights of the car are long gone, I start the journey to my own place, sending Marco a quick text to let him know what happened. It’s about a twenty-minute walk from where I am and I could use the time to sober up more. I hate going to bed drunk, though at this point, I may not go to sleep at all. Maybe I should just go to the office...

  I glance at my watch. It’s past three in the morning. I could still get a solid three hours of sleep if I head home now, so that’s what I do. I hate working when I’m tired, and changing my usual schedule, and not sleeping tonight will cause both of those things.