Page 69 of Filthy Little Games

“The boss is downstairs in his office in Omerta,” one of them finally remarks.

“Where is his office? Which floor?”

“Don’t,” the other, surlier guard warns the younger man.

“I’ll take her down and watch over her.”

“Really?” I say in surprise.

“Boss won’t like that.”

“Getting some ass will do the boss good,” he replies to his fellow bodyguard, then turns to me. “That is why you want to see him, right?”

I guess his guards assume we’re hooking up, since I live here now and sleep in his bed, even if they may not know we’re legally married yet. I wish those things were true. But Creed hasn’t even gone down on me in several days.

Not that I need him to or anything. And I do want to return the favor, dammit. Creed is the scariest, deadliest man I’ve ever met, and by far, the sexiest. But he won’t let me touch him.

“That’s exactly why I want to see him,” I assure the guards and myself. “Just give me a moment to change.”

Creed seemed to have a hard time resisting me when I only wear his suit jacket, so I slip into his closet and find one to throw on after removing my leggings and tee, along with my bra and underwear. Since I showered less than an hour ago, all that’s left is to run my fingers through my curls to untangle a few, and I’m ready.

It seems like it takes us three days on the elevator to get from the ninety-sixth floor to the thirty-sixth. The whole time, I have my arms wrapped around my waist to make sure the suit jacket keeps everything important covered.

“After you.” The guard waves his arm forward for me to exit the elevator first.

I do and find dozens of men playing cards or billiards, drinking at the bar, and milling about, staring at me, or more specifically, my attire. I begin to have second thoughts, wishing I had remembered that this place is also a literal boys only club.

I fidget with the jacket button, hugging myself tighter in it. “Maybe…maybe I shouldn’t bother him, you know, in case he’s busy.”

“He’ll be happy to see you.” The man steps off the elevator and lets the doors close behind him, removing one of my escape routes.

“How do you know that?” I ask. “What if you’re wrong, and he takes his anger out at you for bringing me down here?”

“Do you know how many women the boss has brought up to his penthouse?”

“Not sure if I want to know the answer to that question.”

“You’re the only one I’ve heard he’s been with in over a year,” he tells me anyway. Over a year? I doubt that. Then, he points straight ahead. “Down the hall past the check-in desk. You can’t miss his office, since it’s the big one on the left at the end of the hallway.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank you.” I head in that direction, if for no other reason than to get away from all the prying eyes of strangers.

I quickly bypass the man working the check-in desk, who barely gives me a glance.

All the lights are out in the rooms that I pass until I get to the last one on the left.

If I didn’t know he was the don of all dons, I’d assume the handsome man with his black dress shirt sleeves rolled up hisarms, typing away on his laptop, was a successful businessman, catching up on his correspondence. The crease between his black eyebrows and his scowl makes me think that whatever he’s working on isn’t pleasant.

Before I can turn around and leave, he lifts his eyes and catches me standing in the doorway

“How did you get down here?” he snaps. I can’t tell by his tone if he’s happy surprised or angry surprised.

“The elevator,” I answer and attempt a small smile. Hopefully, my comment reminds him of a similar response he once gave me after I asked him how he got into my apartment, and he told me. “The window.”

Getting to his feet, Creed strolls around his giant wooden executive desk and approaches me, his jaw tight, eyes hard. He hooks one long finger into the V of the suit and gives it a tug to reveal the tops of my breasts all while holding my gaze. “Are you wearing anything underneath my jacket?”

“No.”

“Good.” He pulls me inside his office with that single finger until he can reach around to close the door. He turns the lock, sealing us alone inside.

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