Page 2 of Forbidden Deviant Games

“I’ll be back to check on you later,” I say through gritted teeth, slamming the last drink—his, of course—down with more force than necessary. Before I can think better of it, my lips are parting, and my last remark shoots out. “But for your information, there’s not a chance in hell I’d ever offer myself to you, Mr. Vikson. Have a good night.”

With that, I turn and practically sprint for the stairs again.

2

VIKS

I chuckleas Haley Montgomery hightails herself right out of Club Outsider’s private lounge after that statement. She doesn’t know it, because if she did, then she’d surely do everything in her power to stop, but when she walks—that round ass of hers sways back and forth. It’s almost hypnotic. It makes a man think of only dirty things—like how to get her to bend over and spread those cheeks so he can sink inside the sweet place between her thighs.

“Feisty one, isn’t she?” Cain Devereux comments as he lifts his whiskey to his lips and swallows a mouthful.

My amusement disperses in a heartbeat as I cut a look his way. “She’s a waitress, Cain,” I reply. “One under my boss’ employ. I recommend keeping your hands to yourself.”

Cain eyes me with what can only be barely repressed amusement. “Perhaps,” he agrees, “but there ain’t nothing saying I can’t look my fill, is there?”

A growl works its way up my throat and it takes all of my willpower to suppress it. Instead of answering, I turn to the rest of the men that have gathered here tonight. “Let’s get back to the matter at hand,” I state. “What do you know about the new drug on the street?”

“Haze?” Cain sips his whiskey and shakes his head. “Awful stuff. Addictive as shit. I’ve lost quite of few of my own employees to the garbage.” And that’s what separates Cain Devereux from my own boss, Nicholas Carter. While the majority of trust fund kids who grew up to be shockingly not stupid enough to lose their fortune and instead make mountains more of it, Carter is one of the few who raises people like me from the gutter and into the realm of the elite.

Across from me, Andrei, one of Carter’s street watchers, nods. “I’ve gotten my hands on it before,” he says, looking my way. “Not tried it myself, but I know how Mr. Carter likes to be kept up to date on everything new in the area.” I nod, letting him know it’s okay to keep going.

“The dealers are all over and they’re constantly changing,” he continues. “They start off cheap, practically handing the shit out for free and once their clients are hooked, they’re raking in the money. Shit goes for several hundred for a mere gram.”

I curse. That can only mean that the shit is more than addictive. It’s positively fucking enslaving. This is not good.

“What contingencies do we have?” I demand.

A shadow shifts and I look up, meeting the gaze of Troy Rodriguez. He shakes his head. “This is the contingency,” he says.

Fuck. I suck in a breath, lean against the back of the lounge, and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m meeting with Carter tomorrow,” I tell them. “I’ll figure out what he wants to do.”

“Viks.” I look back to Troy as he steps forward and drops into his own seat, setting his water down and crossing his arms. “You already know what he’s going to say. He’ll want this taken care of.” I arch a brow, but the next words out of his mouth explain his words. “It’s reached Eastpoint.”

Shock rockets through me. “The campus?” Troy nods.

I grit my teeth at this news, but with how popular Haze has been on the market right now it … it shouldn’t be a surprise. My attention returns to the dance floor below. The cascade of red and white lights that scan across the floor coupled with the various writhing bodies practically turns the scene into the opening of a porno. Young women barely out of their adolescence dressed in thin, sometimes see through dresses and men with too much money and recklessness party their hearts out. None of them knowing what lurks in the shadows that surround them.

Of course the shit has made its way to Eastpoint. That’s the next stop to its real goal—the world. Once these kids get hooked on something like Haze, they’ll take it with them wherever they go and they go every-fucking-where. Paris. Milan. Tokyo. New York. Los Angeles. Haze has its foothold and if it doesn’t get cut off here, it’ll be everywhere before we know it.

“The next school break is coming up,” I muse aloud. “They’re leaving.”

“They’ll take it with them.” Cain’s words mirror my thoughts.

“I’ll meet with Nicholas,” I finally decide. “But as far as you’re concerned, Haze is banned until further notice.”

Cain nods and finishes his glass as he stands. He rebuttons his suit coat. “I’ll make sure my clubs are informed,” he says. “I wish you and Carter luck in catching the distributer.”

I scoff. “You could catch him yourself, you know.”

“Now, why would I do a fool thing like that when I know you’ll take care of it for me?” he says sardonically even as he smiles and steps up to the ledge, locking his hand over the railing as he looks down. My gaze follows his, across the dance floor and to the bar until my whole body stiffens at the sight below. Haley. Her Club Outsider tank top is cut high enough that standing in front of her, it seems appropriate. But from up here, in the nest, I can see straight down into all of the creamy flesh of her tits.

I turn Cain’s way, but the fucker is already looking at me with a knowing smirk. “Keep your eyes on the prize, Viks,” he says. “And maybe, someday, it’ll all be yours.”

The dipshit doesn’t even give me the opportunity to form a reply. He releases the railing, nods to the others, and disappears down the staircase. Andrei and Troy both follow soon after, and I’m left in the relative quiet silence of the lounge, my thoughts returning once more to a fiery brunette with a mouth made for sin.

I’m so fucked and I already know it.

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