She was here.
Parked in my lot. On my property.
Any moment, she would be within my reach and I was so fucking pumped that my hands were sweaty.
For days, I’ve dreamt of this woman. Her expressive features, wild curly hair and bright eyes.
I’ve spent hours fantasizing about how I’d fuck her.
The way she would cling to me, begging for only what I could give her.
I had never been this way over a woman and it was as maddening as it was thrilling.
For the first time ever, I felt alive.
Mercy wasn’t even out of the car when my partner Roger says, “So that’s the PI.”
“It is.”
“You made her sound larger than life so naturally, I thought she’d be bigger.”
“Size is deceiving.”
“No shit,” he says rubbing his shoulder. “I still have nightmares about her.”
Her being his ex-wife who, after finding out he was seeing another woman, managed to stab him. I never got involved in it but, I found it amusing that the woman who had been openly cheating on her husband got pissed off and violent when he did the same. Only difference was, Roger wasn’t trying to hurt his ex-wife. Roger just wanted to be happy. And luckily, he now was. His current wife was everything his ex-wife wasn’t. However, to this day, he still won’t speak her name.
“I’m going to greet her at the door,” I say, standing and wiping my hands on a towel.
“Dion,” he laughs at my demeanor. “No one is going to steal her.”
“No, but they’ll look,” I defend. “And I don’t want them looking.” She was mine.
“You invited a beautiful woman into a gentleman’s club, asshole,” he laughs again. “If you didn’t want them to look, you should have set this shit up at Starbuck’s.”
“I want her to know who I am, up front, no surprises.”
“She’s a fucking PI,” he reminds me. “I guarantee you she did her due diligence before ever responding to your email.” Which I, of course, expected. Though I paid a lot of money over the years making sure there wasn’t much to find. The less the world knew about me, the better.
“I might have left my full name out,” I admit as I watch her put on gloss in her car mirror. A mirror, that from here, looked to be hanging on by a miracle and a lot of duct tape.
“No surprises, huh?” he says crossing his arms. “Look, you’re my best friend and we make a nice living together but I have to tell you, half-truths with any female is going to blow up in your face. Half-truths with a private investigator is going to get you stabbed. And take it from me, it hurts.”
“I need a drink,” I sigh. Mercy was onto something with the liquid courage motto.
“You need to just come out and ask her to put you out of your misery.”
“Shut up,” I groan. “She’s heading in, I have to go.”
“Dion.”
“Yeah?”
“In all these years, I have seen a lot of looks cross your face. This is the first time I’ve seen anticipation. That female is the cause of it and when I see my shot, I’m hugging her.”
“Thanks, man,” I smile and then I hauled ass down the steps. Acting casual, I round the corner and was leaning against the bar when she walked inside. For just a moment, I watched her keen eyes take in the room before her. And I couldn’t help but wonder what she thought about it. When she started grinning, the knot in my stomach loosened up and I acknowledged her. She wasn’t repulsed. This was a good start.
“Mercy.”
It took perhaps a split second for recognition to hit and then she threw her head back and laughed. Walking straight to me, she looks up and says, “I take it you’re the Fox I’m here to see.”
“Dion Fox,” I say pulling her to my side so I could touch her, keep her close. Fuck, to finally be touching her at all…Slow down. Breathe. Don’t scare her and for the love of God, stop fucking sweating.
“I have to say, the triple X on the name was marketing genius.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I smile warmly hoping to hide the need to kiss her.
“If anyone can appreciate a good play on names it’s me,” she says unaware that she was leaning into me. Quickly, I inhaled, committing her scent to memory as a lykae would its mate. Not only did I need to slow down, I needed to stop reading. Jesus, I’m losing my shit.
“Okay so, I’m here.”
“You are,” I say, so fucking pleased I can hardly stand it.
“Dion,” she nearly whispers. “Why am I here?”
“We’ll talk,” I announce taking her tiny hand in mine. “After your tour.”
Not once did she grimace or shy away when I explained the den. In fact, I had her full attention when I explained why I bought it. And I told her the truth. I hadn’t bought it to have sex at my command. I bought it because the concept made money, period. That after losing my parents, I needed to invest my inheritance so I didn’t blow through it. I even explained how Roger and I came to be partners.
I further reiterated this was not my personal playground but my livelihood. I even introduced her to employees as we passed them so she could begin to feel comfortable inside these walls. Considering I planned to have her spend as much time here as possible, I found this to be important. And to be honest, I wasn’t around enough to remember their names so this helped me too.
Mercy, being the curious creature that she is, asked dozens of questions.
She never faltered or avoided eye contact with anyone. In fact, she introduced herself to every single person she passed offering them a smile and a firm handshake. She didn’t judge or act if she were superior.
Mercy was simply being who she was and I was in awe of it. Especially when she said to me, “I remember what this place used to be. So, I hope you take quiet moments to appreciate what you’ve accomplished here. The den is fantastic. I’m impressed, Dion.”
No one. Not even my best friend has ever said, be proud of what you’ve done.
Then again, not many people found transitioning a borderline brothel into a respectable all male establishment a sound career choice either.
Actually, I made it a point never to bring it up in company due to the reactions it caused.
Since taking over, I have had only one nearly-semi-serious relationship to speak of. When I decided it was time to explain to her exactly what I did for a living; she hadn’t handled it well.
At all.
If memory serves, she told me I was going to hell while crossing herself and she had never even stepped foot inside the door. But that was nearly four years ago and yet there were days that it felt like a lifetime.
It was important to me that the woman I wanted to share my life with had full disclosure. Because if problems arose as a result, I would be better equipped to handle it and so would she.
“My office is in here,” I say ushering her inside for privacy. Closing the door, I watch her run her fingers over my desk, lamp and chair. I kid you not, I felt it in my balls.
“So, this is where the magic happens?”
God, I needed to be inside of her like I needed air. “Some of it,” I manage to say. “The staff takes care of the rest.”
Sitting on the sofa, she rests her hands on her lap and says, “In your email you said your problem is confidential and only to be spoke of in person.”
“I did, yes.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Why did you leave police work?”
“Detective work,” she corrects. “And, I left because the department is very much about following the rules.”
“And?”
“And I’m not.”
“I believe my partner is sharing trade secrets,” I lie my ass off.
“Uh huh and you want me to look into who he may be sharing them with?” she asks skeptically.
“We’ve discussed opening a second location. Since then, two other establishments have set to open with similar themes.”
“Is there a risk of these establishments doing a better job than you?”
“Of course not,” I defend because those places don’t actually exist and even if they had, couldn’t touch what we had here. “But if he is doing what I suspect he’s doing, I need to be certain so I can stop it.”
“Okay,” she says crossing her perfect legs. “My fee for this is normally –”
“I’ll pay you eight thousand dollars for your time,” I cut her off. “Here’s the file for you to reference.”
“Well aren’t we prepared,” she mumbles taking it.
“I’m going to need results quickly and discreetly.”
“I’ll need a way to –”
“Here’s my card that has all my numbers.”
“Okay so –”
“I need yours.”
“What?”
“Your number.”
Rattling it off, I store it in my phone and then focus back on her. At the moment, she was wearing the cutest look of confusion and I wanted to give in but I couldn’t. “I’ll have your payment wired to you within the hour. Is there paperwork I need to sign?”
“I’ll email it to you this evening,” she says standing and doing the same, I lead her to the door with my hand at the small of her back. “Dion?”
“Yes, Mercy,” I say caging her in and was not disappointed in her intake of breath.
“I can’t accept eight thousand dollars.”
God, this woman was meant for me. “I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.”
“Seriously it’s too –”
Licking the seam of her lip shuts her right up. Instantly, my body responded but I forced myself to stand down. Taking her skin between my teeth, I suck and when she moans, I release her. “Mercy, you need the money.”
“Excuse me?” she asks still dazed. I know this because she’s staring at my mouth like it’s the holy grail.
“You’re a functioning alcoholic with a gambling problem, remember?” I remind her. “You’re horrible with money.”
Chuckling under her breath, she ducks out from under me and says, “I’ll see you in forty-eight hours, Mr. Fox.”
“You’re that sure of your talents?”
Winking at me she leaves me with, “Never question my talents,” and a rock hard dick.