Page 65 of Double Down
“Need to make sure I’m pulling my weight?” I ask, not keeping the annoyance from my tone.
She glances down in surprise. “What? No! I just want to know if I can help.”
One look at the sincerity in her eyes and my annoyance melts away. She really means it. She always has.
“Maybe, but not right now. Right now, I want to take care of you. That is going to start with food and a movie, and you are sleeping in my bed tonight.”
“That sounds perfect.”
She smiles up at me, and everything suddenly seems manageable. All the stress. The fighting. The fucking fact that she thought I was Conrad.
Room service arrives, and Phoenix’s eyes soften when she sees the cheesecake. We eat and talk, and even though we don’t leave my room, it feels better than any date. It feels normal.
“Mav?” she asks, moving to sit on my lap.
“Yeah, Firebird?”
“Are you mad at me for being jealous?"
“No.”
“It’s just that we never really talked about what this is. I know I don't have the right to be—you said I was yours but you never said you were?—”
“You are mine. The Titans, we own you. And if we own you, then you own us. At least…you own me.” The truth slips from my lips and I don’t regret it in the slightest. “I like the fact that you got jealous, Firebird. Seeing you jealous, with my best friend’s dick down your throat made me hard then, and it turns me on even more now. Everything about you turns me on. Probably always will.”
She leans forward and kisses me, a kiss that starts soft and turns into something heated and lingering. It’s several minutes later when she pulls away slightly, pressing her forehead against mine.
“Maverick, I have to tell you something. I?—”
Her words are cut off when the shrill ring of my phone cuts through the air. I go to silence it when SOS flashes across the screen.
“It’s the front desk. They only call this number in case of an emergency.”
“Answer it,” she says, and all I want to do is throw this phone out of the fucking window.
“Yeah?” I answer the call to hear screaming in the background and then one of the concierge’s voices mumbling.
“Sir, we have an issue at the front desk. The two ladies you gave spa passes to earlier are here and demanding to speak to someone, and I think they may be impaired. Should I call the police?”
Fuck.
“No, no, I’m on my way. Try to calm them down, and make sure they stay in range of security cameras.” I hang up the call. “Firebird, I’ll be back in a bit, okay? Don’t leave this room.”
She nods, expression worried.
When I get downstairs, I am thoroughly pissed off, and doing that square breathing thing Phoenix taught me all those years ago to control my emotions. I’m tired, I have blue balls, and I am a motherfucking Titan.
This is way below my pay grade.
At the front desk, there are the two women from earlier and another one, an older one I don’t recognize. The girls are still dressed in tiny shorts and bikini tops, and the older woman isdressed like a grade-A power-tripping Karen in a pastel pink power suit.
“I don’t understand why an establishment like this would allow prostitutes to just walk around freely and use the spa,” the older woman shrieks. “When my husband hears about this, I swear he will?—”
“Get an erection for the first time since you have been married?” The blonde says, slurring her words. She rocks unsteadily on her feet, hanging onto the desk as if she could fall at any moment.
“Ladies, what seems to be the problem?” I ask. The words are addressed to the guests, but I am really asking the concierge.
The look of relief on her face is instant. “Sir, Mrs. Langford had an appointment at the spa when these two…ladies…came in and were talking during their treatment.”
