Chapter Twenty-Nine
The game moved too quickly for Ryan to talk to Marshall about anything more than their strategy on the ice. The opposing team demolished them for the first two periods, rattling his teammates with penalty after penalty. The last period wasn’t much better, and Ryan had to hold one of his guys back from starting yet another fight.
“Cool off, man. It’s just a game,” he told him before the ref threw the guy in the penalty box.
The game ended with a loss for his team, and his guys cursing up a storm, frustrated by their own poor play.
Ryan hardly cared today. Marshall had texted him earlier that he had an update, so when the other men headed to the showers, Marshall pulled him aside. They took off their skates, and then trudged up a few rows, removing bulky gloves before parking themselves on blue plastic seats.
The ice rink was mercifully empty.
“Got some news for you. You told me your brother-in-law had gotten a tip that Stefano wasn’t as active in the Sinners at the time of the murder, right?”
Ryan nodded. Brent had shared that detail during the pool game at his house, something he’d heard from Mindy. But everything was hearsay still, and Ryan was hoping that could change soon.
“I think I know why.”
“Tell me,” Ryan said, and a mix of both desperation and anticipation gripped him. He wanted a fact. He prayed Marshall was dealing in that currency.
“Seems like Stefano had a broker,” he began, and Ryan furrowed his brow in a question. Marshall made a rolling gesture with his hand to explain. “Like his guy who set up his hits.”
The ice in the rink had nothing on Ryan right now. He was chilled to the bone. His body turned subzero just hearing how that killer operated. “This guy set up murders for hire?”
Marshall nodded. “He brokered them. The Sinners were all about drugs then, and stealing. Fencing stolen goods, some territory battles—the usual gang stuff, to be honest. But, sadly, there’s money in murder, too, so the broker started working that angle for his boy Stefano.” Marshall shook his head in disgust. Ryan gritted his teeth, trying to tamp down the treacherous ball of rage that lived inside of him at times like this. “Sounds like he’s one of the guys the detectives are looking for.”
“T.J. and K.,” Ryan said in a hiss, the initials slithering out of his mouth. “That has to be them. His friends. His fucking accomplices. Who the hell are they? Do you know their names?”
“That’s the problem. They’re slippery. They’re smarter than you’d expect a bunch of street thugs to be. The Sinners were quiet for awhile, sort of fell apart, but are now rising up again, and the word is this guy has played a role in some serious shit that went down. But we don’t have a name yet. Not a real one, at least. Detective would probably sell an arm for a name.”
Ryan probably would, too.
* * *
The week flew forward, hurtling toward the benefit in a heady blur of emails and texts, of days and nights, of sex and sleepovers, of dinners and drinks, and time…so much time together and so much desire for more time.
Tonight was the next big step.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 4:58 PM
subject: I’m so not nervous at all.
You swear they don’t bite? I ask because, well, you bite.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:05 PM
subject: You have nothing to be nervous about.
My brothers better not bite you. As for Shannon, I make no promises.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:17 PM
subject: Dress code?
What are you wearing?
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:22 PM
subject: The usual.
Pants, shirt, tie.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:35 PM
subject: Now you’re turning me on.
I’ll wear a dress. You’re shocked, I know.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:37 PM
subject: On a scale of 1–10…
How turned on?
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:41 PM
subject: Zero.
Now I’m nervous again. I need to go get ready. Jumping in the shower. See you soon.
from: [email protected]
date: July 25, 5:42 PM
subject: Breathe easy, beautiful.
They will adore you.
* * *
She was ready.
After her pulse had slowed to a normal level, and her rapid breathing settled. After she gave herself more pep talks than she had ever needed when pitching to investors or proposing media companies use her compression services. And after taking more deep breaths than she’d ever required before walking into a billionaire’s office with her head held high and asking him or her to generously support a cause.
She’d handled those situations without batting an eyelash.
But meeting the people who Ryan cared about most was new to her. She had no clue what to expect as she headed into the Chandelier Bar in the middle of the Cosmopolitan Hotel. Two-story strands of crystals spilled from the ceiling, enrobing nearly the entire establishment. Faint purple lights cast pretty streaks across the bar.
She was decked out in a simple red linen dress with a hip-hugging pencil skirt and a strappy bodice. White piping lined the neck and the hem, giving the dress the retro look she embraced. Her earrings matched, and her lipstick was red and neat.
She’d only checked twenty times on the way from her building to the nearby hotel.
The dark-haired Shannon arrived first with her husband and immediately wrapped Sophie in a big hug. Well, it was a little hug, because Shannon was a pipsqueak.
After the embrace and hellos, Sophie placed her palms together as if in prayer and pleaded, “Will you please tell me everything you have in store for the Dance All Night reunion special? I promise I’ll be your best friend forever if you do.”
Shannon eyed Ryan approvingly and squeezed Sophie’s shoulder. “I like her. Keep her around.”
“The big secret is…she’s bringing me on the show. I have all the moves,” her husband Brent said, adding a gyration of his hips like a stripper.
Shannon rolled her eyes. “You wish.”
“Hey! I know you!” Sophie said excitedly, pointing at Brent. He was tall, sturdy, and had sparkling brown eyes. “Your late-night show was the best. And King Schmuck cracked me up on many occasions.”
Brent nodded at Shannon. “What she said. I second it. I like you, too.”
Soon, Michael and Colin joined them, and Sophie understood what Ryan had meant by Michael’s intensity. He was like a sheepdog guarding the flock, even in the middle of a chichi Vegas bar. He had that ‘my-eyes-are-everywhere’ watchfulness in his cool blue gaze. His eyes were lighter than Ryan’s but his hair was darker, making for an interesting contrast. Colin was the laid-back one, easy-going, quick with a joke, and even able to hold his own among Brent, the former comedian, as well as two super protective older brothers. He had an infinity symbol tattoo on his wrist, with four interlocking circles in black ink, nearly the same shade as his hair.
Colin also was a kindred spirit, and as a venture capitalist he inhabited some of the same worlds Sophie had trafficked in. “I had my eye on your second round of funding for InCode several years ago,” he said. “I tried to get in on it, but it was too late.”
“Oh no! Shame on me then,” Sophie said, lightly smacking her own hand, admonishing herself.
“Yeah, it’s one of my greatest regrets in business. That was a hell of a sale you had.”
“Thank you,” she said with a wide smile.
“I’m looking at some startups that are playing in the same space. I’d love to get your thoughts sometime,” he added, taking a drink of what looked to be iced tea.
“I’d be delighted to talk shop. I haven’t had the chance in ages.”
“Then we’ll make it a date,” Colin said with a wink.
“Date?” Ryan asked, arching an eyebrow as he draped an arm around her.
She turned to look at him, and couldn’t resist planting a kiss on his cheek. “Just to talk numbers and other geeky things.”
Michael whistled under his breath. “And Ryan Sloan gets a kiss in public from the first girl he ever introduces us to,” he said, holding up his palm to high-five Shannon, then Colin. “I knew he liked her for real.”
Ryan made a pshaw sound, then must have decided to say screw it, because he grabbed Sophie, dipped her, and kissed her deeply in front of them all. The hooting and hollering intensified. The clapping grew sonic. When he pulled her up, she felt woozy and stunned, and she was sure her lipstick was smeared.
“And we have a winner,” Colin declared, smacking his glass lightly on the counter.
Winner. She felt like one tonight. Holy hell, did she ever.
She’d passed a big test.
* * *
“I told you they’d adore you. Every single one of them already texted to tell me how awesome you are. I’m going to keep you around,” he said, raining kisses on her cheeks, her shoulders, and her lips as they walked through the Cosmopolitan, his arm wrapped around her.
“You better,” she said with a murmur caused by him running a finger through her hair. “Because I think we’re already beyond our seventh date. And yes, I’m counting the weekend as more than one date.”
“I lost track of how many it is. I’m glad I lost track,” he said, as they left the hotel.
When the first blast of hot summer night air pelted them, she turned to him. “Where do you want to go now?”
“You’re five minutes away. I’m twenty minutes away. I took the initiative and already asked Colin to go let my dog out,” he answered with a wry smile.
“Ah, so you’re assuming I want you to come over?”
“I’m not assuming anything,” he said, gripping her shoulder. “It’s a fact. You want me over because you want what I’m going to give you.”
“What’s that?”
He stopped in his tracks there on the Strip. She stopped, too. Summer crowds of tourists thronged past them, cameras around necks, sneakers on feet, towering plastic drink holders in hand.
“My thank you for being so amazing with my family,” he said.
“It was easy. They’re wonderful.”
“You were nervous, but you did great. I want to show you how much it means to me that you met them.”
“You have a gift for me?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I have something I think you’ll like.”
She could hardly wait.
When they reached her home, he pushed her against the wall, fell to his knees, and wrapped her hands in his hair. She gasped, half surprised but all thrilled that he gave her free rein to touch his hair, to hold on hard, to dig her nails into his head the entire time he licked and kissed her until she came apart in his mouth.
It was one of the rare times he’d done that without binding her up at some point. She loved the momentary taste of freedom, the gift as he’d called it, but she also loved being bound to him.
When he stood up, she was still seeing stars, her body dizzy and drunk on his touch. She looped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “Let me do that to you,” she whispered. “Let me taste you. But I want you on top of me. I want to be under you.”
He ran his finger over her lips. “Fucking your mouth,” he murmured. His eyes blazed darkly, shining with intense desire as he scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom. He set her down and unzipped her dress, then freed her breasts from her bra, leaving on only her shoes.
“Undress me now,” he told her.
Her skin sizzled with anticipation, with the thrill of having access to his body like this. She’d touched him before, plenty of times, but when it was all said and done, she’d spent more time with her hands tied than not, so having the chance to savor him was not one she wanted to miss. She unbuttoned his shirt, spreading her hands over the smooth, hard skin of his chest, then his arms. She moved to his belt buckle, heat tearing through her as she undid it. There was something so erotic about undoing a man’s leather belt. It was the moment before. It was the last second until his cock made its appearance, and so she savored the unfastening, knowing what was coming next.
Kneeling, she pushed his pants down over his hard ass, then his boxers, and drew a deep sigh of appreciation as his hard shaft greeted her, the head nearly bonking her nose.
He laughed lightly, as she flicked out her tongue to lick the head. She moaned instantly, savoring the taste of him.
“You said you wanted to be under me, Sophie,” he said firmly, reminding her.
“I know, but I just want to touch you for a minute. I hardly ever get to. Let me worship you,” she said, tugging his pants off the rest of the way as he quickly removed his shoes and socks. Starting at his calves, she kissed her way up his legs. Fingers, hands, tongue, lips. She traced him, brushed him, as she traveled along his strong body. She kissed his hipbone then rose up on her feet, crouching to press her lips to his belly. His stomach was so toned she could run the tip of her tongue through the grooves in his abs.
He groaned as she mapped his body with her mouth, grasping the back of her head, guiding her over him. She rose and licked his nipples, then bit each one. His cock jumped against her.
“Sophie,” he said, like a warning. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“I want to drive you crazy, Ryan,” she said as she returned to her knees, kissing his stomach as she whispered, “I want you to be mine.”
He gripped her head tighter. “I am yours. I swear.” He lifted her face so she looked up at him, meeting his eyes from the floor. His voice was barren, stripped down to pure need. “I can’t belong to anyone else now.”
She shook her head. “I can’t either,” she said, then wrapped her hand around his throbbing cock, loving the silken feel of his steely length in her palm. Heat bloomed between her legs, and she felt a bead of her own wetness slide along her inner thigh. His eyes drifted down her body, settling on that slim strand of her own liquid arousal.
His voice sounded like thunder. “Get on your back now.”
She scrambled to the bed.