The Buchanan's Redemption(15)

“I just want to go on the record as saying I know what you’re doing and I think it’s pretty sleazy,” she said, feeling as if she didn’t throw that out there, every step made forward for feminine empowerment would disappear.

“And what exactly am I doing?” he asked, intrigued.

“Trying to get me drunk so you can get into my pants,” she answered without pulling any punches.

The low rumble of amused laughter sent chills skittering up her skin. “You’re not wearing pants. And would that work?” he asked.

“No.” Maybe. The truth of it was she hadn’t been with a man in a long time. Sex was very low on her priority list but faced with the idea of spending some naked time with someone like Vince….No! She hated him, a voice reminded that drunken little slutty voice whispering justifications in her head. “It absolutely won’t work because I am not attracted to you. As I said before, you’re not my type.”

“Yes, you mentioned that. Let’s play a game,” he suggested, surprising her. “If I guess what kind of guy you typically allow in your pants, as you say, I get a kiss.”

“One kiss?” she repeated, mildly disappointed he hadn’t asked for something more scandalous. “I suppose that’s fine.”

“Anywhere I like.”

She gasped, her cheeks flaring instantly. Oh! That sneaky Buchanan. “On the lips only,” she added, though she should’ve shut him down completely. “But you’d better be dead-on accurate or you lose and get nothing.”

“One thing you should know about me is that when the stakes are high I never lose.”

Emma didn’t doubt that. “We’ll see,” she said.

He leaned back and regarded her with open scrutiny, searching for the answers through the windows of her eyes and she wondered how close to the truth he would get. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t going to grant him a kiss. She’d lie through her teeth if she had to to prevent his kiss from happening.

“In the past, you’ve been attracted to men who don’t threaten you in any way. Beta boys who are kind and considerate to the point of castrating themselves so as not to offend you in anyway. They’re always politically correct and never make the first move, which in a way suits you because you like to be in charge but deep down, you don’t respect them because you find them to be pussies.” Her breath caught and a subtle frown followed as a protest bubbled to her lips but he wasn’t finished, saying,

“They have safe, stable jobs with a modest income not that it matters to you because you and the guy disdain money and the trappings of wealth as ostentatious and obscene but what your poor beta boys don’t realize is that as their politely touching your tits and asking your permission before sticking their little dicks inside your pussy is that you’re not actually attracted to them at all though you seek out their benign presence. Their sweet kindness bores you to tears even as you profess to appreciate their gentle consideration. There’s a fire that burns inside of you that has only begun to build but you have no experience in how to stoke it to a wild inferno because thus far, you’ve only allowed amateurs tend the flame. You may disdain wealth but you were born to be fucked by a man who knows how to turn a woman inside out with all the tools available — which includes all that money can buy.” He leaned forward and she swallowed as the air squeezed from her lungs. “My guess is that you’ve never really had a good fucking in your life but you’re dying to know what all the fuss is about. Am I right, pretty girl? Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I…I…don’t think this is appropriate dinner conversation,” she stammered, reaching for her wine glass to wet her parched throat. She darted nervous glances around the room but found no one was paying attention to their tucked away alcove. More’s the pity. Vince’s gaze had turned decidedly feral and she was shaking all over at the promise in his eyes. She wouldn’t put it past him to push the flimsy table aside and do terribly naughty things to her right there in front of God and country. “This…I…you’re wrong,” she managed the lie, though barely. Her vocal cords were strangling her as if trying to prevent the words from burying herself. She pushed away an errant curl that had escaped from her updo and tried a confident smile but it was far too shaky to come off as anything but a front at hiding the turmoil in her body.

“You’re lying,” he said quietly. “Perhaps we should’ve discussed the punishment for not being truthful.” Her eyes widened and his slow wicked smile stole whatever breath she had left. “It is far more tantalizing than a kiss,” he promised darkly.

“I didn’t agree to that,” she said. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Silly girl…the game was an illusion. There is no deal…only you and me…and the rest of the night.” She started to tremble but not from fear. God help her, she was tingling over her entire body and heat had liquefied her core until she knew with complete mortified certainty if he were to touch her, his fingers would come away wet with her juices. “Tonight I will show you what it’s like to be beneath a real man — one who doesn’t take orders but gives them — and I’m going to twist you in knots as only a sexual deviant such as myself can.” He smirked as he lifted his wine glass to his lips. “But first…we eat. We will need our strength for what is to come.”

As if he hadn’t just alternately scared her senseless and left her wanting for something she couldn’t even name, he ordered their dinner.

Hands shaking beneath the tablecloth, Emma knew without a doubt, by the end of the night, Vince Buchanan was likely going to ruin her.

And she was going to let him.





-9-




Dillon ran his fingers lightly over his wife’s distended belly, loving the feel of the taut skin, knowing that his child was safe inside Penny’s womb. He was awed and a little bit — okay, a lot — terrified at the thought of being someone’s father. Was he truly ready to take on that responsibility and would he do a better job than his own father had?

“If this baby doesn’t come soon, I quit,” Penny grumbled, shifting for a more comfortable spot on their bed. Dillon helped put a bolster behind her lower back to give her some more support and she sighed in relief. “My back is killing me.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, hoping for a task or job that would make him feel less useless than he always ended up feeling when he saw Penny in pain. Penny shook her head and rubbed at her ribs where his child was presumably sticking a foot. “On second thought, you can distract me by telling me what’s going on with Vince. Shannon told me some distressing news about some girl he has holed up at the penthouse. Is it true?”

He cursed silently. How could he have thought that the girls wouldn’t share information with one another? Now he had to come clean. “I hadn’t wanted to say anything because I didn’t want you upset,” he explained. “There’s a situation with a club that the twins own and we’re trying to get it figured out before it gets out of hand.”

“If he has a beat up girl holed up somewhere, I’d say it’s already out of hand, don’t you think?” Penny said, wincing and blowing out a deliberate breath in an attempt to manage the pain. When he paused, more concerned about his wife than the problems with Malvagio, she gestured for him to continue, saying, “Believe it or not, it helps to focus on something other than how crappy I feel. Nobody tells you that nine months pregnant is akin to torture. Everything hurts and my feet are swollen.”

“Your feet are beautiful,” Dillon assured her but her dubious expression said she didn’t believe him. He went to the edge of the bed and started gently rubbing her feet. She smiled, her eyes going warm and misty with appreciation. He smiled as he rubbed, saying, “Don’t go ruining my reputation as a hard-hearted jerk by sharing how I rub your feet at night.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” she said, nodding. “Oh! Yes, right there at the arch. Gently…ahhh, that’s nice. Now what were we talking about? Oh, that’s right…this club. What club is this?”

“It’s a private club called Malvagio and before you ask, yes, it’s a sex club and no, I’m not a member nor have I ever been there.”

“Does Shannon know about this club?”

“I’m not sure. She must know something because she knows about the girl.”

“True. I wonder why she didn’t say anything about it though? Maybe Nolan only shared the barest of details. Shannon can be a little judgmental at times.”

Dillon agreed. “Well, that’s his problem and I don’t envy him. The situation is that someone has beat up two girls — sisters of all the dumb luck — and it seems personal.”

“Against the sisters?”

“No, against the twins. I think it was just a coincidence that the girl — her name is Emma Winters — got caught up in the same web as her sister, Lana.”

“It’s going to be impossible to catch who did this. People come and go out of clubs every night.”