Page 41 of The Shadows We Keep

I lean in close to him and ask, “Why are we staying down here?” As I nip his earlobe in the process.

“Because if I take you upstairs, in that, someone else might get ideas.” His eyes find mine and there’s no playfulness inside them. “I don’t share.”

I wrap myself against his body, draining my glass before slamming it down on the bar. Reaching up to grip his chin, I ask, “And what makes you think I care?” Ripping my body away, I make for the stairs, on a mission to find Stace and piss Harkin off. He won when it came to coming, but this one’s mine. I have no plans to let anyone else have me, but the fact that he thinks he can just mark his claim because of the other night and keep me from having any fun, doesn’t sit right with me.

He's hot on my heels, but I sprint up the stairs—hoping to hell I don’t twist an ankle—halting at the top where a bouncer stands. It’s the same guy Stace knew for us to get in the first time. He ignores me and looks over my shoulder, his chin nodding in recognition.

“You’re going to regret this, little one.” Harkin’s clipped tone fills my head as his firm hand finds my lower back. He pushes me forward to the left and back, past the occupied booths. I swallow down the nervous energy pulsing through my veins.

Each section we pass plays like a different erotic film. The further back we go, the more obscure it gets. I drop my eyes in shock when we come across a man dressed only in tiny leather shorts. A tall woman adorned from neck to toe, in a tight leather body suit, stands behind him, donning a short leash.

The pressure to keep moving falls from my back and Harkin slips beside me to take a seat in a high backed leather chair. If they’d carved it from wood or stone, I’d say it was a throne. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. The plan was to find Stace. I didn't think Harkin would whisk me away on my own.

“Come here, little one,” Harkin purrs from across the small alcove, his foot propped up against the opposite knee. He’s leaned back, relaxed, and I take the opportunity to ogle him. His black slacks wrap delectably around his toned thighs. He’s rolled the sleeves of the dark claret dress shirt, freeing the swirling black ink that dances across his skin.

He’s dangerously beautiful. The red-shaded ambiance of the space intensifies his kingly stature. When he snaps his fingers, I shake out of my trance and strut toward him, ready to take a seat. But just as I’m about to sit, he points to the space on the ground in front of him.

“Kneel.” His command leaves little room for hesitation, but I do. His eyebrows are quick to draw up in question.

I’ve gotten myself into a lose-lose situation. If I give in, he wins. If I don’t and walk away, I lose. I sit with that for a moment, contemplating the options in my head. It dawns on me that playing into his hand could end up being in my favor, but I’ll have to surrender to find out.

I shrug off my stubbornness, and do as he asked, kneeling before him. The ground is ice-cold against my knees, and the heels of my stilettos dig into my ass. His dark gaze is piercing from this angle, but he doesn’t move. A shuffle behind me pulls his attention. I make to get up, but his hand falls to my shoulder to cease my movement.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” Her whinny voice is as irritating as a fruit fly buzzing about.

“Macallan, neat and a vodka soda with a twist.”

“And will your booth be open tonight, sir?” she asks.

Open? What the hell does that mean?

Harkin looks back down at me and runs the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. My tongue juts out to meet it. His breath hitches as he pulls away and clenches his fist.

“Yes, but only for observation.”

“Very well. I’ll put you on the board.” Her heels clack against the floor as she retreats.

I sway back to stand; my knees are going to have bruises if I’m down here any longer, and my toes are falling asleep.

“Stay,” he commands.

There’s that tone again.

If he didn’t absolutely disarm me, I’d be ready to throw hands at his demeaning demands, but I’m curious to see what comes next. I wait what feels like minutes before he finally looks back at me.

“You know, I would’ve thought you learned from your mistakes. Although, I guess it’s partially my fault. I should have punished you the first time it happened. Instead of letting it slide.”

“Punish me? I—” I don’t understand what he means by that.

“Ahh now, little one. You’ve already got one coming to you. Do you really want to add another for interrupting me?”

Who is this man before me?

He’s alluring and infuriating all in one breath. His commands fill me with fury, while his actions smother out the flames before the inferno can grow. I’m fighting a constant battle of wills within myself to push his boundaries one moment while wanting to surrender completely the next.

A round tray infiltrates my peripheral as a hand places two glasses on the small table in the corner.

“Thank you, Cass,” Harkin says.

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