Page 31 of Black Sheep

“Wait. Before you go in.”

My grip on the door tightens. “Yes?”

“You should know…When she checked in three days ago, I brought her a complimentary drink. I won’t go into too much detail but…like I said, she seemed a little off.”

Hellfire licks a path through my chest. “Why? What’s wrong with her?”

“Hey, I asked. She didn’t feel like sharing. I didn’t push. But that’s the reason I’ve been keeping a close eye on her. All I’m saying is tread carefully—”

“You’re overstepping. Again. Leave, B. Now.” I’ve wasted more than enough time talking to her.

She obeys.

I step into the room.

A room that is an exact replica of the bedroom in my pool house ten years ago.

Of all the things she could’ve chosen as her penance, she chose a replica of my room?

Why?

A few million other questions pepper my brain, but Cleo’s gaze is locked on me. Mine on her. Once upon a time, when my addled state didn’t know better, I stupidly believed the phenomenon of our gazes connecting had the power to stop the world from spinning. That view has altered significantly. But the sensation lingers in the tunnel vision that makes me only see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Her lack of surprise at my presence. The calm acceptance of what’s to come.

She didn’t seek me out, but she’s here because of me.

She knows who owns this building, who owns the Punishment Club. All my businesses, from the trendy cocktail bars to the hardcore BDSM clubs, come under the Axel, Inc. umbrella. It wouldn’t have been difficult for her to find this place. Although I suspect a different hand has facilitated her presence here. The timing is a little too accurate.

“Hello, Axel.” Her voice is even, the rasp barely above a murmur.

I ignore the greeting and kick the door shut behind me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Getting your attention any way I can.” Her throat moves in a nervous swallow. I follow the movement, the thrumming in my body spiking to another level.

She shifts. My gaze drops, and I see what she’s wearing.

A dark purple silk teddy and knicker set. The kind that leaves very little to the imagination. The kind that begs to be ripped out of the way so the despoiling can begin. The whisper-thin material hugs her heavy breasts, the flimsy straps doing a piss-poor job of supporting her. The panties hug her hips, their lace trim framing the mind-altering nirvana at the top of her thighs.

She shifts again, sliding one silky thigh against the other. At the edge of the bed, she extends one leg and steps down to stand.

Bare feet. Tumbling hair. Effortlessly sexy. Infinitely deadly.

The breath punches out of me. My cock stiffens, and my balls tighten as the monstrous need to fuck roars back to life.

The memory of her wetness saturates me, and all I can do is stare as she glides to a stop before me, enveloping me with her perfume. Her eyes swirl with all the emotions I’m familiar with. But tonight most of them have been dialed back to leave a fierce determination in the eyes that rise up to meet mine.

“Do I have it, Axel? Your attention?”

Far more than I’m comfortable with. “That depends on what you intend to offer as a sweetener. The promise of pussy is always a draw. Even tainted pussy, no matter how much it turns my stomach.”

Her breath expels in a pained gasp.

I laugh, feeling zero remorse. “Did you think all it would take is risqué lingerie to have me eating out of your hands? Or eating you out? Did you forget that you’re a mere pawn in this tiresome game? An expendable commodity?”

She reddens. A trace of a quiver touches her lips before she bows her head and wrestles for control. After half a minute, she lifts her head. “This is not a ‘tiresome game’ to me. You told me not to return to the nightclub. So I found another way.”

I drag my gaze from her face and turn away as I look around the room. Not a lot of things stump me. But this one does. It takes several minutes before I can form the words to ask, “What the hell is so important that he…that you would join this club just to get my attention?”

“He wants you to come to the house tomorrow.”

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