THE EXPOSÉ 3

By Roxy Sloane

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Copyright © 2015 Roxy Sloane

Cover Design: British Empire Design

Cover Photography: Perrywinkle Design

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

DAX

Secrets have always been my strong suit. They bring me power. Control.

As the owner of the most exclusive sex club in New York City, people trust me with their darkest confessions, their wildest fantasies. Without total secrecy, my whole empire is at risk.

But when it comes to my personal life, secrets are the enemy.

I need to know what people are hiding. I need to trust them with my life. And when someone lies to me, betrays the faith I put in them, that person is dead to me forever.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” I say, my voice ringing with rage.

I look at her, the one woman who has gotten under my skin like nobody else. The woman who almost made me lose control. But who it turns out has been lying and manipulating me since the very first moment we met.

She looks so innocent. I came so close to trusting her.

What kind of fool does that make me?

“Tell me who the hell you are,” I demand again, furious. Just moments ago, she was coming in my mouth, moaning in ecstasy, but now— just the sight of her is making me dangerously pissed off.

“Please, Dax, I can explain.” The girl swallows, afraid, looking around for escape. But there is none. It’s just the two of us alone in my apartment. Her drink on the table. My bedroom down the hall.

I pictured tonight going very differently. Now, I can’t believe I ever let her set foot in this place.

“You told me your name was Kate Kendell.” I fight to keep control. “You said you wanted the hostess job to make money while you interned in the city. But that was my head of security on the line just now. He says Kate Kendell is off volunteering in Africa, and has never even been to my club. So what the hell is going on?”

“I...um... may not have told you the whole truth,” she babbles.

Still naked under my bathrobe, her luscious body peeking through the fabric, she was about to get the fuck of her life. I was five seconds away from owning her, licking every part of her body til she came over and over again, but now I can’t wait to put as much distance as possible between us.

But not before I get answers.

I stride over and grip her arm tightly. “What’s. Your. Name?” I grind out with a clenched jaw. “Your real name, none of this Kate bullshit.”

“Zoe,” she admits. Her eyes flash with fear. “Zoe Warren. It’s the truth, I swear. I’m sorry.”

I don’t care about her apologies. “And who’s Kate?”

“My roommate, from college,” she confesses, looking miserable. “I took her identity to get the job. I thought that if you knew my real name, you’d never give me the gig.”

“Why not?” I keep hold of her. Zoe doesn’t reply. It takes everything I have not to shake the answers out of her. “I’m not fucking around,” I warn her, my voice low. “If this was some con game, I could call the police right now--”

“No!” she protests quickly. “It’s not like that. The thing is...” She takes a deep breath, and finally meets my eyes. “I’m a journalist. At least, I want to be,” she adds quickly. “I’m working on a big story. I got the job so I could go undercover at the club.” She exhales, looking guilty. “I’m sorry.”

I release her, turning away. A journalist? So all this time, she’s been snooping around the club trying to get information for some big exposé.

I feel a chill. Just what is she planning to reveal? Any one of my members getting outed would be a massive scandal, the kind that brings down politicians or CEOs.

“What information do you have?” I turn back to her, forcing myself to stay calm. “Who have you told?”

“Nobody.” Zoe shakes her head vigorously. “I mean, except for my editor at the paper. But even then, I don’t have much. You keep everything under lock and key, so I don’t have my big scoop yet. I’m still trying to get my break.” She looks down, like she’s genuinely ashamed. I won’t fall for it. This girl has no remorse.

“If you’re lying to me...” I step forward. She skitters back.

“I’m not. I promise.”

“Excuse me for not trusting the word of a lying, cheating snoop,” I spit back at her.

Zoe looks up at me. “I really am sorry,” she says. “I didn’t plan on this.”

“Which part exactly?” I ask, icy. “Seducing me for information? If you’re trying to convince me you have any sense of ethics, I’m afraid it’s a little late for that.”

“Hey!” Zoe protests, folding her arms. “I didn’t mean to get involved, but you’re the one who chased me. And if you want to talk about ethics, screwing around with your employees isn’t exactly above board.”

I glare. “Don’t even try to make this about me. Enjoying the company of a willing employee is nothing like fucking your way to a story.” Her face tightens and I know I’ve hit her where it really hurts. Good. “You lied to me, you manipulated me, and it was all so that you could dig up some dirt and get your fifteen minutes of fame. Don’t you realize this would destroy my reputation, my whole business? Or are you too self-absorbed to think beyond your own byline?”

“It’s not like that—” Zoe protests again, her voice gone soft, but I’ve heard enough.

“Get out,” I command her. “Get your things and leave, right this minute. Before I reconsider and call the cops. I bet they’d have a few things to say about you impersonating your friend. Fraud, for starters.”

Zoe looks like she’s going to say something, but then thinks better of it. She picks up her clothes; they’re scattered across the floor, where only moments before we were stripping as part of a sexy game of truth or dare.

Now, I realize how close I came to losing much more than a game.

Zoe quickly pulls on her skirt and tank top, and zips up her boots. She looks around again, and I see her purse on the side table.

I beat her to it and toss it towards the elevator. “This story of yours is dead, do you understand? If I so much as see a word in print about me or my club, I’ll—”

“You’ll do what?” Zoe whirls back, looking pissed. “Is that a threat? Because I’ll quote you on that.”

I narrow my eyes. “Read it however you want. But I have an army of lawyers, and you signed a non-disclosure agreement.”

Zoe’s face changes.

“You forgot about that, huh?” I give her a cruel smile. “The devil’s always in the details, Miss Warren. Say one word about anything you’ve seen at the club, and I’ll sue you back to the Stone Age. You think you’ve seen me mad? You can’t even begin to imagine the hell I can raise when I put my mind to it.”

I would have thought she’d have the good sense to flee right then and there, but Zoe pauses in the elevator doorway. She pulls herself up to full height, and stares me down.

“Just so you know, I wasn’t seducing you to get the story. What happened between us...that was all real.”

Then before I can find another come-back, she pulls the grate shut, and descends out of sight.

Damn it.

I back up against the wall. I’m furious at her for lying to me for so long – but even more angry at myself for falling for her games.

I pride myself on being able to read people, anticipate their every move before they even think of it themselves. It’s what’s helped me grow my business from one dive bar to a night-life empire, but right now, all that good sense counts for exactly nothing.

Because I almost believe her.

I go pour myself a stiff drink, and then another. Right from the start, something about her drew me in: that smart mouth, the stubborn smirk in her blue eyes. And the chemistry between us was unbelievable.

At least, I thought it was.

Now I wonder, was she telling me the truth? Or was it all just a lie to get my guard down? Thinking back over every moment we’ve spent together, the sexy hook-ups and hot-as-hell encounters at the club, I can’t believe she was pretending the whole time.

No woman is that good at faking it.

It doesn’t matter if her orgasms were real. She lied, manipulated, and plotted to reveal the secrets at your club. Imagine what would have happened if she’d gotten her way?

No way. It’s unthinkable. My resolve strengthens again. Zoe, or Kate, or whoever the hell she is, just made her last excuse.

She’s history.

CHAPTER TWO

ZOE

I don’t know which is worse: riding the subway home with my underwear still strewn somewhere on Dax’s floor, or the feeling of total shameful guilt eating away at my stomach.

No, it’s easy: the guilt is worse. At least the other people in the subway train don’t know what a scummy person I am. But when I think of the look of anger and betrayal in Dax’s eyes...

I wish the earth would open and swallow me whole.

I slink home, certain my guilt is written all over my face. I didn’t mean to get in so deep. My assignment at the start was simple: go undercover at the club, dig up a juicy story about corruption or illegal dealings, and secure the journalism job of my dreams. But one look at Dax, and I knew I was in trouble.

And with just one touch, I knew there was no going back.

I pull a business card from my pocket – I managed to grab it from Dax’s desk as he was throwing me out.

Dimas Developments. There’s a handwritten note on the back: YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT.

The handwriting’s not the same as the threatening note, so this is somebody else. Just how many threats is Dax juggling? And what do all these people want from him?

Back at home, I can’t sleep; there’s too much running through my mind. In college, they drilled us about getting too involved with our sources. We’re supposed to stay detached and objective at all times. But you try staying objective when the sexiest guy you’ve ever met is pushing you down over his desk and making you come your brains out.

I couldn’t help myself. The sexual connection between us was impossible to ignore -- and the last thing I expected was to actually like and admire the man. Behind that ‘master of the universe’ thing, Dax is smart as hell, driven and moral. I’ve never met a guy like him before, a real man who walks the walk instead of just paying lip service to ideals like integrity and trust.

But that’s no excuse. I lied to him. He hates me now, he made that pretty clear. And after all that, I’m no closer to my story than before.

I’m a total failure.

*

The next morning, I’m planning to do some epic wallowing, but a voicemail from my editor at the paper, Charles Granger, wakes me up fast.

Hi Zoe, just checking in on your investigation. Swing by the office when you get a chance, I’d love to hear about your progress.

My stomach drops. Oh shit. I built up the story to get him excited and secure that precious job offer -- and now I need to tell him I have nothing, that I’m left with zero angles. But there’s no avoiding him. My reputation is on the line.

I get dressed and head into the newspaper office, bracing myself to share the bad news. I can only hope that Granger doesn’t ask too many questions about why the story is a no-go now. I may be just starting out, but I’m betting that confessing, ‘I slept with my source and now he hates me,’ isn’t the best way to secure a future job offer.

As usual, the minute I step through the front doors, I’m hit with the buzz and activity of the place. All around me, reporters are working on stories, the phones are ringing, and everywhere I look, someone is typing away with a fevered look on their face, desperate to make their deadline.

I breathe it in with a pang of longing. This is where I belong.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve dreamed of being a reporter. I used to write up hand-made newsletters about my family and our neighborhood, carefully writing stories about everything from Mrs. Kelington’s missing parakeet, to my older sister’s hot date. By the time I got to college, my ambitions were set. I worked my butt off to gain a spot on our prestigious student newspaper, and spent long nights in the newsroom writing articles and building a portfolio in the hopes of one day making my career at a place like this.

I came so close. Granger was willing to give me a break and hire me if I delivered him a big story, and my undercover investigation at the club ticked all the right boxes: sex, secrets, possible corruption. I was on track to win everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve.

And now, the party’s over. Not to mention the face I’ll be losing when all my college friends and my smug ex-boyfriend find out that the story I told them was already in the bag never even runs in the paper.

I walk the hallway with a heavy heart, stopping outside his office. I knock.

“Come on in.”

I push open the door. Granger is meeting with a couple of junior reporters, surrounded by files and paperwork.

“I’m sorry,” I say, awkward. “I can wait--”

“No, we’re just finishing up here.” Granger beckons me in. He turns back to the rookies. “Make sure you get those quotes double-checked, and have the copy filed by nine. OK?”

“Got it!” They close their notebooks and get up, shooting me curious looks.

Granger smiles. “This is Zoe, she’s working a freelance piece for us. Zoe, these are a couple of my best junior reporters. They started out just like you, and now they’re a permanent part of my staff.”

“Hi,” I smile, actually a little awestruck.

“Hey.” The pair smiles in return. “Good luck with your story.”

They file out. Granger hunts through his desk for something. “So sit down, tell me how it’s going.”

“Well...” I perch on the edge of a seat. “The truth is, I’ve hit a roadblock. I don’t think I can keep working on the story.”

“What?” Granger turns to me, looking surprised. “But it was going so well. I’ve been looking over your notes. There’s a ton of great stuff already, excellent background color.”

“I know.” I feel a pang of regret. Even though I’m guilty about misleading Dax, I’m still proud of the work I’ve put in. “But my cover’s blown at the club. The owner found out my real name, and now he knows I’ve been working on a story.”

“Shit.” Granger sits down with a thump. He frowns, thinking hard.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s my fault, I should have been more careful. I was getting close to some good stuff too,” I add. “Just the other night I saw a politician in there, a guy from the city council, I think. That’s what you told me to look out for, right? Ways someone might be exerting influence, or making themselves vulnerable to corruption.”

“City council?” Granger’s expression suddenly changes. He gives me a sympathetic look. “Look, don’t beat yourself up. It happens to the best of us. To tell the truth, I’m impressed you lasted this long. It shows you’ve got the instinct for this.”

Some instincts. They got fried the minute Dax gave me one of his sexy looks, and suddenly, my story was the last thing on my mind.

“I’m sorry I wasted your time,” I apologize, feeling even more terrible. “I really appreciate that you gave me the break. I hate that I let you down.”

“Hey, hey, no need to talk like that.” Granger frowns. “You’re not going to quit on me now, are you? Politicians behaving badly are always hot news.”

I blink. “But...I told you. My cover’s blown. The owner won’t let me back in there. And even if he does, the non-disclosures mean I wouldn’t be able to report on anything--”

“You let our lawyers worry about that,” Granger cuts me off. “Public interest trumps all. And just because you can’t work the story from the inside, it doesn’t mean you should give up. A good reporter works all the angles,” he reminds me. “I’m sure you’ve picked up enough information to be able to find another way. What else did you learn about this politician?” he asks, sitting back.

“Nothing yet, I only thought I recognized him. But Dax -- the owner -- he’s being blackmailed.” I say slowly. “Someone’s been sending him threatening notes.”

“Good, good.” Granger scribbles some notes. “Personal, or business, you think?”

“Business,” I answer, thinking fast. “He wouldn’t be sweating something personal, but the club means everything to him.”

“So there you go.” He nods. “You can start there, with his business contacts and history. Look for links with this politician, too. Research may not be as glamorous as undercover work,” he adds with a grin. “But it’s where you’ll find the meat of your story. Good work.”

“So…you want me to keep working it?” I ask, still not certain I’m understanding. I thought for sure he’d show me the door.

“Keep digging,” Granger confirms. “Maybe you can find another source on the inside to talk.”

I doubt it. Dax probably has everyone hooked up to a lie detector test by now, but I don’t want to push my second chance.

“Thank you,” I say, getting up. “I really appreciate it. And I’ll find a way to crack this story, no matter what.”

“Hey, anytime.” Granger gives me a friendly nod. “Listen, I remember what it’s like trying to get a foot in the door, but I can tell you’re ambitious and determined, almost too much for your own good—just like I was. I’m always here, if you need to run anything by me. Advice, direction, whatever you need.”

I’m touched. “I’ll get right back on it,” I say. “And I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything.”

“You do that.” Granger shows me to the door. “And keep your focus. A story like this could define your whole career.”

His words echo as I exit the building. My whole career.

I’m torn. On the one hand, I feel terrible for lying to Dax, but I can’t ignore what Granger said. He’s put his faith in me, he thinks this is a legitimate story -- so how can I just walk away?

Besides, it’s not like I was having a relationship with Dax. He pursued me. He seduced me. And yes, I pretended to be someone I’m not, but he’s keeping secrets too. The notes, his past. He’s no saint here, and he didn’t even give me a chance to explain.

My choice isn’t easy. Drop the story and kill my chance at the newspaper, or keep working it from the outside, and risk angering Dax even more.

Except, he’s already mad at me. I’ve got nothing left to lose.

So what do I do now?

CHAPTER THREE

DAX

By the time I get to the club that afternoon, I’m in a foul mood. Zoe’s betrayal still weighs heavily on my shoulders, and I can’t shake the feeling she played me for an utter fool.

My manager, Dominique, greets me by the door. “We’ll need to go over payroll,” she says briskly, accompanying me into the lounge. “And staff turnover has been too high this past month, we need to talk about that.”

“Give me a damn minute to take off my coat, why don’t you?” I growl.

She arches an eyebrow. “Someone got up on the wrong side of bed this morning.”

“My bedroom has nothing to do with it,” I snap back.

Besides, Zoe and I barely even made it to the couch.

Dominique gives me a look, like she doesn’t have time for my bullshit. “Well, when you’ve removed the stick currently shoved up your derriere, come find me. There’s work to be done.”

She turns to leave, but after Zoe’s sass I’m not going to tolerate her attitude. Isn’t there someone in this place who’ll show me some respect?

“Hey!” I bark. “Don’t give me that tone. Have you forgotten who’s boss here?”

“Not at all,” Dominique replies, icy. “But clearly you’ve forgotten that I’m your manager, not some serving wench you can boss around as you see fit. When you come back down off your high horse, I’ll be figuring out the schedule.”

She stalks away. Damn. I feel a flash of remorse. She’s right, I am in a shitty mood, but that’s no excuse for taking it out on her.

She’s not the one who’s screwed me over.

I sigh, then go after her. “Dominique, wait,” I catch her in the hallway. “I’m sorry, OK?” I say gruffly.

She looks surprised by the apology.

“No problem.” She nods. One of the things I like about her is she doesn’t sulk, she just moves right on. “Like I said, we’ve got a lot to do. The waiting list needs another look. Oh, and the security guys are already here. They’re setting up in the Onyx suite, I think.”

“Wait, what security guys?” I frown.

Dominique looks confused. “The ones you ordered to install the cameras. A little heads up would have been nice,” she adds. “But since you were late, I had to let them in.”

Cameras?

What the fuck?

I turn and stride down the hallway, throwing open the door to one of the private suites. There are two guys in work clothes installing cameras in the air vents over the bed.

“What the hell’s going on?” I demand loudly.

One of the guys pauses, up on a step-ladder. “You the boss man? We’re nearly done here, just a couple more rooms to go.”

Dominique appears in the doorway behind me. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“They’ve been wiring every room?” I ask.

She nods. “Additional security. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Not even close.

“Goddammit!” I curse, furious something managed to slip through the net like this. This place is supposed to be secure, and these guys have been running around doing God knows what. “Why the hell didn’t someone call me?”

“I thought this was something you and Griffin ordered? Your name was on the job requisition.” Now Dominique’s looking worried, and Dominique never looks worried. Fuck.

I turn back to the workmen. “You two, get down from there. Don’t make another fucking move.”

“Dax?” Dominique says. “What do you want us to—”

“Get Griffin, go room to room. Sweep everything for cameras and mics.” I demand. “Check twice, I don’t care how long it takes. God knows what they’ve planted by now.”

Dominique’s face goes pale as she realizes the extent of the security breach.

“Shit, Dax. I checked out all the paperwork before they came in here,” she apologizes. “It had your name on it, it even looked like your signature.”

“Never mind that, just get started on the clean-up. I’m gonna find out who did this.” I dismiss her, before turning back to the workmen.

They’re looking shifty as hell now, glancing around for an escape. I pick the younger guy, he looks barely out of his teens. “You.” I beckon.

He gulps.

“Call your boss right now,” I order him. “Tell him that you’re not leaving here until he comes to collect you in person.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t do that--” the older guy starts, making for the door.

I block his path. “Watch me.”

I leave the room and slam the door behind me, turning the master key in the lock and trapping them inside. I figure on them lasting a while before admitting defeat, but it’s barely twenty minutes before Nikolai shows up at the front entrance with his usual entourage.

He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, he just gives me that same knowing smile he would flash fifteen years ago, back when I was a kid running errands for him. He was the biggest deal in our neighborhood, like a father to me for a while, but times change.

Now, he wants a piece of my club, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him have it.

“Hidden cameras?” I spit, tossing one of the duffel bags outside at his feet. After scouring every room in the club, Griffin and Dominique found enough wires to put the CIA to shame. “This shit is underhanded, even for you.”

Nikolai doesn’t even try to deny it. He shrugs, dressed in one of his impeccable suits, like the dirt he dishes out never touches him. “You didn’t leave me much choice, son.”

I flinch to hear him call me ‘son.’ Once, I idolized the man. I thought I’d follow in his footsteps and take my own place in his empire. That was before I realized just how rotten that world was, violent and brutal to the core.

I walked away. I thought I’d left it all behind me, and built an empire of my own -- on my terms. But I forgot, Nikolai never forgets.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” I demand, finally done with skirting around the question. First, his mysterious visit, then his not-so-cloaked threats. Now this. I’m not going to take it anymore. “Is it dirt on my members? Blackmail? Bribes?”

“Not everyone, just one.” Nikolai finally gives me a straight answer. “Andrew Landsley.”

I recognize the name. But I don’t confirm his membership. “The politician? What do you want with him?” I ask, giving nothing away.

“Let’s just say, I have some business interests coming before his committee.” Nikolai gives me a shark’s grin. “And I could use some guarantees he’ll swing the panel in my favor.”

Money. Power. It’s always the same with him.

Determination settles through me like ice. “I promise my members privacy,” I tell him. “What they do in these walls is private. So if he is a member here, and that’s a big if, he’d be under my protection.”

Nikolai brushes an invisible piece of lint off his sleeve, unconcerned, and doesn’t even bat an eye at my refusal. “Everything’s got a price, son,” he counters. “You should have just left the cameras up. Your hands would have stayed squeaky clean.”

There’s nothing clean about what he’s proposing. Let him spy on my members during their most intimate moments? The club is supposed to be a place for people to lose all their inhibitions and worries, without consequence. Nikolai is proposing that I allow him full access to the suites and rooms.

Even I don’t know what goes on inside.

“This is your last warning,” I tell him. I stand aside, and let Griffin hustle out the fake workmen. “Keep the fuck away from my club, or there’ll be trouble.”

“Oh yeah?” Nikolai smirks. “What kind of trouble could a guy like you possibly cause me?”

I give him a steely smile. “I didn’t spend years at your right hand without learning a thing or two. Like where certain accounts are hidden, or what dealings got done under the table. How are the guys in Miami?” I add, casual.

Nikolai tenses. “You ought to be careful what you say, son. Old loyalty will only take you so far, and I’ve just about had enough of your games.”

“I’m not the one playing games,” I tell him. “Get off my property, and don’t let me catch any of your goons here again. This is finished.”

I slam the door behind me and go back upstairs.

Griffin follows, whistling. “Guys like that don’t just give up and walk away, not when they want something this bad.”

“I know.” I think hard, but there’s no solution. I refuse to sell out my clients, whoever they are, but Nikolai won’t quit now. “You still got those friends from the old days?” I ask.

“My old squad?” Griffin nods.

“See if you can get a couple down here,” I say, with a sinking feeling in my chest. “Double up security for now. I need this place protected.”

He nods, and heads back to his office. I look around. In daylight, it’s just another exclusive club, but after dark... this place becomes a playground for everyone who needs an escape. They trust me with their secrets, their lives.

But now those secrets are catching up with me.

Nikolai. Zoe. God knows who else. Too many people wanting to know exactly what’s hidden behind the cloak of anonymity.

Just how much are these secrets worth? I wonder, looking around. And how long can I keep them hidden when the whole world wants to tear it all down?

CHAPTER FOUR

ZOE

I’m up to my elbows in silk and spandex.

“What about this one?” Tasha asks, emerging from the store dressing room. “Too slutty right?”

She strikes a pose in a scrap of slinky white silk.

“It’s...hot,” I offer. “Just depends if hot is what you want for this audition.”

Tasha makes a face. “I don’t know! This callback is like the biggest break I’ve gotten since moving to the city. I want everything to be perfect!”

“Well, what did they tell you to wear?”

Tasha rolls her eyes. “They never say. Some girls just show up in plain black, so they don’t distract from their performance, but I say, if you’re going to do it, you need to do it right. Maybe I should try the red again?”

She disappears back into the dressing room.

I look around. The luxury store is full of rich housewives and snooty-looking staff. They keep shooting me dirty looks, as if they can tell that my bank account would barely pay for a button on one of these dresses.

Especially now that I’m out of a story – and a job.

“Better or worse?” Tasha steps out again, this time looking like a classic femme fatale.

“I like it. I like all of them!”

“Some help,” Tasha grins. She checks her reflection. “You know, the director was pretty cute. And he couldn’t stop staring at my ass.”

“There you go,” I laugh. “If you miss out on the role, maybe you’ll still get a date.”

Tasha snorts. “I want both. What about you?” she asks, going to browse another rack of designer dresses. “Any eligible guys at that club of yours?”

I pause. You mean aside from the dangerously sexy man who delivered an incredible orgasm but hates my guts right now?

When I don’t respond, Tasha turns to me with a wicked grin. “Or are you still seeing the boss?”

“We, uh, broke it off,” I tell her. It’s not exactly a lie. “But it’s fine. I’m focusing on the job hunt. I need a new gig – I kind of got fired,” I admit.

“No!” she exclaims. “I’m sorry, babe. I can hook you up with my agency if you need. Like I said, you have to put up with some assholes, but the money’s great.”

“Thanks. Who knows, maybe I’ll have to take you up on it if I don’t get this mess with Dax sorted out.”

“Tell me about these problems with Sexy Boss Man,” Tasha teases. “You’re really upset about this, I can tell. You didn’t tell me you liked him, liked him.”

“I don’t.” I say, covering quickly. “Things just got messed up between us, pretty bad.”

Tasha comes to sit beside me, and I can tell by the look of sympathy on her face that she doesn’t believe me. “What happened?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” I take a breath. “I screwed up at work, and now he hates me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Zoe,” she soothes. “What’d you do that was so bad?”

“I lied,” I admit. “Big time.” I don’t want to tell her the whole story, but maybe she can help. “But I need him to trust me again. So how can I fix it? Should I even try?”

I owe Dax nothing, we weren’t even having a relationship, but still, I know I’ve done something wrong by sneaking around under false pretenses. Sure, it was fun and sexy going undercover, but it got serious real fast. And instead of coming clean, I betrayed him.

“Aww,” she pats my hand sympathetically, then puts a glass of fitting room champagne in it. I take a fortifying gulp-- I guess these ritzy shops do have their good points. “You’ll figure it out, Zoe. But you have to try. Look how upset you are. He’s probably waiting on your move.”

“I don’t think so.” I take another sip, feeling guilty. “He never wants to speak to me again. What do I do?” I ask, feeling awkward asking for advice.

“Have you tried apologizing?”

“Yup. He won’t even listen,” I sigh. Dax strikes me as the kind of guy to stick to his guns. He’s not just going to turn around at the drop of an ‘I’m sorry’ and say we’re all good again.

“So make him listen.” Tasha gets up again. “Give him what he wants most,” she adds with a wink, before sashaying back into the dressing room.

What he wants most...

I think hard. Dax has been stressed since the moment I met him -- and all because of these anonymous notes. He wants to find out who’s threatening him. Which means if I can deliver that name to him, he might give me the time of day.

I can get back on the inside for my story again, and shake my guilt, all in one move.

For the first time in days, I feel some hope. I rummage in my purse and pull out the card I found in his apartment. Dimas Developments. It’s not much, but I need to start somewhere.

“Are you OK finishing up here alone?” I call to Tasha. “I have some work to do.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Tasha sticks her head out. “I can’t decide, so I’ll just get both!”

*

Armed with just the business card and company name, I decide to do some old-school sleuthing. I head to City Hall, and spend hours combing through company registration records before I find the filing for Dimas: CEO, Nikolai Dimas. I check the names against business licenses and property deeds, until finally something pops.

Nikolai was an early investor in Dax’s first club.

Interesting.

I look for more recent activity, and finally find it. Dimas has been buying up buildings down by the waterfront.

I’ve been stuck down here in the records vault all afternoon, so I take the info and go see the place for myself. The neighborhood is pretty run-down and sketchy: tenement buildings, and busted warehouse lots. I walk the streets and wonder why someone would be pouring money into this part of town: there’s no subway, no coffee shops or stores, and no office buildings either. And the waterfront is a no-build zone: it’s all environmental protection, nothing but ugly wetlands too.

What is Dimas up to?

Down the block, I can see someone hauling trash bags full of possessions out of one of the buildings on my list, so I go over to check it out. It’s a harried-looking woman, trying to pack three kids and a bunch of boxes into a rusting old car.

“Here, let me help,” I say, grabbing one of the bags.

She looks at me suspiciously, until I put it in the car. “Thanks,” she says slowly.

“You guys moving?” I ask in a friendly voice.

She nods. “Not like we have a choice.”

“You got evicted?”

“They tried. Got half the building out, but our lease runs ‘til the end of the year,” she explains, “They can’t make us go. I checked with Legal Aid. So they just turned the water off instead, had their guys come play loud music all night next door until we couldn’t take anymore. My kids need to sleep, you know?”

“That’s terrible,” I gasp. “Who would do something like that?”

“Nobody nice.” The woman shakes her head. “These guys, they care about nothing except money. I heard they’re tearing the building down, putting up luxury condos.”

“Do you have someplace to go?” I frown.

“My sister’s place, in New Jersey.” She looks worn-out. “But then I have to get to work here, every day. Hector!” she yells, to one of the kids playing in the street. “Don’t touch that!”

I help her load up the car. “I’m sorry this happened. Good luck with the new place,” I offer, feeling helpless.

She glances past me, and her gaze turns fearful. “You shouldn’t be asking questions around here,” she says quickly, “Come on, kids.”

I turn to see what made her scared. A couple of guys are loitering on the other side of the street, watching us. They’re tough-looking, muscular and scowling. One of them pulls out his phone and makes a call.

The woman shoves the kids in the car and drives away, but the men don’t move. They stay there, watching me.

I quickly start walking in the other direction, but when I turn back to check, the men are following me: slowly strolling, about half a block back.

I walk quicker, almost breaking into a run as I head for a busier area. One block, two… every step I take, I’m scared to turn in case they’re drawing near. When I see a busy intersection up ahead, I could cry with relief. I turn the corner and quickly dash into a Dollar Store. I hang back in the aisles, checking through the window until the men walk past.

I sag back, my heart pounding. Who were they? And what did they want?

Maybe I’m being paranoid, but this Dimas stuff is setting me on edge. The more questions I ask, the deeper I get-- and something tells me, the answers won’t be pretty.

But I have to keep digging. For Dax.

CHAPTER FIVE

DAX

After blowing up at Dominique, I try my best to keep my temper at the club and not cause any more scenes. I stay in my office, away from the party atmosphere, and think hard.

Nikolai isn’t going anywhere, but even now that I know exactly what he wants - leverage over this politician -- I’m still no closer to a solution. Sneaking those security workmen in here was a bold move, and it would have paid off for him if I hadn’t caught them at the last minute.

I came so close to fucking up big-time, and all because I was too focused on Zoe to pay attention to what’s right in front of me.

Zoe.

I see a flash of her blue eyes in my mind, and those juicy lips parted in a sinful moan.

I can’t get her out of my head.

I pull my laptop closer and run a quick search, typing the name she told me into the search box. For a split-second, I wonder if even that was true, but then the results start piling up. Investigative reporting articles, photos of her on the staff of the college newspaper. No wonder she came up with a fake identity -- I would have busted her in a heartbeat with this résumé!

Through my anger, I can’t help but feel a stab of admiration. Coming here undercover was a gutsy move. It shows she’s smart, and resourceful too.

Not to mention lying and manipulative.

I slam the laptop shut. I didn’t expect to feel so betrayed. Women have tried to screw me over before, and I never dwelt on it. I just put them aside, and move on. But for some reason, Zoe’s duplicity keeps burning at me.

I saw something in her. A stubborn ambition that just wouldn’t quit.

It reminded me of myself.

A knock breaks through my thoughts, and then the door opens. My buddy, Cam, leans in holding a bottle of scotch. “I heard you were sulking back here,” he says cheerfully, then enters the room. “Glenlivet twenty year.”

“I know,” I reply wryly. “I ordered it in stock myself.”

Cam pours us both a drink and then settles back in a seat. He looks past me to the two-way mirror I have installed, giving me a front-seat view of the main room of the club. “I don’t see your waitress working tonight,” he says, giving me a sly look.

“She’s not my waitress, and I fired her.” I gulp the scotch.

Cam raises his eyebrow. “Damn. I was hoping to watch you guys go another round. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone talk back to you like that,” he adds with a smile.

I grit my teeth. “It’s not a good thing.”

“Sure it is.” Cam gives me a look. “When was the last time you dated someone who challenged you?”

“I date plenty,” I argue.

“Yes, but they’re all nice, polite girls with a submissive streak.” He grins. “You need someone to push back a little. You’re so used to running the world here, you need a partner. An equal.”

I try to shut down this line of conversation. “It’s a moot point. She was an undercover journalist, trying to expose the club.”

Cam hoots with laughter, then stops. “Wait, did she get anything on you?”

I shake my head, and take another gulp. “I don’t think so. But it was close. That’s the last time I let my dick do the screening on new applicants.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Cam offers. “But that doesn’t change what I said. One of these days, you’re going to need a real relationship. Nobody should have to carry everything alone.”

“Wait, wasn’t I the one giving you this talk last year?” I grumble.

“Times change.” He grins. “Think about it. I know you’ve been focused on building the business, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that all the money and power in the world doesn’t mean a bloody thing if there’s nobody to enjoy it with you.”

“I’m not short of companions,” I remind him, nodding to the mirror and the view of the club.

“Something real,” he corrects me. “Someone who makes you feel something.”

“Right now, I’m feeling a need for another scotch,” I tell him smoothly. “You want to pony up that bottle and pour another drink?”

*

I spend the rest of the night making sure everything’s running smoothly, but as I head home in the early hours of the morning, Cam’s words haunt me.

Feel something...

Zoe makes me feel, alright: anger and frustration. From the moment we met, she’s refused to let me take the upper hand. The irony is, her mystery is what drew me to her -- and now I’m facing the consequences.

“Dax?”

I get out of the car in front of my building, then stop. Zoe is waiting outside the door, wrapped up in a big coat against the early morning chill. “Dax, please, we need to talk.”

I glare. “I have nothing to say to you.”

I stride to the door and unlock it, but she follows me inside.

“Listen to me,” Zoe begs, as I yank the elevator grille open. “I’m sorry, OK? I didn’t think it through. I never meant to lie to you like that.”

“You mean you accidentally stole your friend’s identity and applied for a job under a fake name?” I say, trying to keep cool. She’s not worth it, I tell myself, even as I register her blue eyes, and the way she pouts her lower lip in frustration.

She flushes. “I meant, what happened between us.”

“There is nothing between us,” I lie. “You were just another perk of the job.”

She looks up, her expression flaring. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

“Truth?” I freeze. My anger comes, hot and edged with lust. “You’re really going to stand there and talk to me about lying, after what you did--”

I can’t stop myself. I grab her by the waist, and push her back into the elevator. Zoe gasps as she hits the wall, but I can see the desire written all over her face.

Her pupils dilate. The heat between us is off the charts. Damn this chemistry, making me want her when I know she’s the last woman in the world I should be touching.

But I can’t pull away.

“Dax…” she whispers. “Tell me what I can do to make you trust me again.”

“Nothing,” I growl. But trust isn’t what I need right now. Not with her tits pressed up against me, her pussy so close I can almost taste it.

I want her.

“Please--” she says again, but I don’t let her finish.

I kiss her hard, claiming her mouth in a brutal embrace. Zoe tenses, but I don’t relent. With a moan, she submits, reaching up to lock her arms around my neck and press even harder into me.

Fuck, she feels so good.

I yank her coat aside and run my hands over her body. Zoe lets out a whimper, eagerly pressing her breasts into my hands. I roughly squeeze her, palming those stiff nipples and grinding my hard cock between her legs.

My last shred of sense knows I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t stop. There’s an animal need in me, demanding satisfaction.

I won’t let her get the best of me this time.

“Turn around,” I growl, pushing her so she’s pressed against the elevator wall. I hit the ‘up’ button then yank her skirt up, reaching between her thighs as I keep her pinned to the wall.

She’s wet. Slick with desire. The elevator stops but neither of us makes a move to step off.

“Dax--” she tries to speak.

“Don’t talk,” I order her. “No more of your lies.” I yank her thong to the side and curl my fingers up inside her, feeling her body clench around me. “See? Your body tells the truth, at least. You can’t hide what you need, can you, Zoe? You want me to fuck you.”

I rub her clit, and she moans, grinding against my fingers.

“Tell me the truth,” I demand. “Tell me one goddamn thing that’s true.”

Zoe twists her head to look at me. Her expression is raw need.

“I do want you,” she manages to say. “I want you to fuck me, Dax.”

I grab her hair and yank her head back, so she sees the steel in my eyes.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down without thinking of me.”

I undo my belt and take out my cock.

I’m going to possess her, brand her. Bury myself so deep that I forget the lies and betrayal, forget everything except her tight, wet sweetness.

I spread her legs wider and grip her hips, tilting them up towards me. Her hands are braced against the wall as I rip off her panties.

“I don’t know if I want to fuck you or spank you.”

She inhales, her breath catching in arousal.

“How about I just do both?” I finger her again—she’s wet and ready for me, but before I slam into her I give her a nice firm smack on the ass. She stifles a groan of pleasure, her face pressed to the wall.

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she murmurs, sticking her ass out, closer to me. I don’t wait.

I enter her hard and deep, thrusting into her with a low groan.

Zoe moans loudly and arches back against me, embedding me even deeper in her juicy, tight cunt.

Goddamn.

I pump hard, slamming into her. Zoe can’t get enough, matching me stroke for stroke, bucking and grinding back into me. I drive up inside her harder and harder, squeezing those lush breasts as I thrust. Fuck, I’m getting close. She’s so tight, the friction is incredible, and I don’t want to stop.

“Dax,” she moans my name. I can feel her cunt clenching around me, her whole body trembling. “Fuck, Dax!”

I reach a hand between her thighs, rubbing her clit in time with my pounding cock. Her moans get louder, resonating inside the elevator. It’s like I’m listening to her get off in surround sound.

Fuck. I could lose myself in her like this. In the heat, the tension. The delicious grip of her pussy, milking me for dear life. I can feel my climax building, but it’s too soon. Fuck, I need more from her.

I pull out, then turn her around, grabbing her ass and lifting her onto me. I impale her with my cock and thrust her back against the wall. Deeper. Harder.

Fuck yes.

Zoe clings on tight. I can see her face now, just inches away. The arousal in her eyes, the hunger of her desire. It only makes me harder, so fucking good.

“Yes,” she breathes, levering herself by my shoulders to sink down on my dick in time with every thrust. “Don’t stop.”

I stop.

She gasps for air, her eyes searching mine. “Dax?” Her voice is raw. “What--?”

“This.” I slowly thrust, using my hips to grind deep, deeper than ever before. I sink in to the hilt, all the way to her G-spot.

She groans.

I ease back and then thrust again, slow and sure. A tortuous rhythm, but fuck, the noises she’s making now, low in her throat, it’s a total turn on.

“You feel that?” I say, panting hard. I’m barely holding on here, but I need to prove it to her; prove I’ll always be the one on top. “That’s my dick going deeper than anyone’s ever fucked you before. I’m taking every inch of you.”

“Yes.” Zoe’s eyes glaze.

I grind against her clit as my cock stretches her wide open, claiming her tight cunt like nothing else on earth. Her mouth falls open, her whole body goes tense, and when she comes, I feel the force of her orgasm ricochet through the both of us.

Her cunt convulses around me, gripping so goddamn tightly I can’t hold back a moment longer. With a grunt, I come, spurting inside her as the climax rips through my body. My anger, the lies, it all drains away as I pump inside her warm, willing body, feeling so goddamn right.

Like she belongs to me.

I reel back, pushing her away. Fuck. This was supposed to screw her out of my system, not cloud my judgement even more.

I yank my pants back up. She looks disheveled and flushed, sexy as hell. I could carry her off to bed and go another five rounds before dawn; mark her body with my hands and mouth, fuck her until we both can’t walk come morning.

She lied. You can’t trust her.

I pull the grille open, stepping out into my apartment. Zoe makes to follow me, but I block the door.

“You already got off,” I tell her, before yanking the grate shut. I hit the ‘down’ button, and step back.

The last thing I see is the look of pure fury on her face as the elevator rattles down again, out of sight.

CHAPTER SIX

ZOE

Who the hell does he think he is?

I ride home in a furious daze, my body still humming with pleasure. That was without a doubt, the most sexy, wild, incredible encounter of my entire life. I almost wish it had been crappy and underwhelming like all my college hook-ups, because then at least then I would never want to see him again.

Instead, the scene replays in my head for days, taunting me with hotness.

I can’t believe he had the nerve to fuck me like that -- and then send me out the door. I should hate him, but instead, I can’t help getting caught up in memories of his hands, pinning me back against the wall; his mouth, hot and punishing on mine.

His cock, driving hard inside me.

It wasn’t arrogance when he said he was fucking me deeper than anyone had before, it was the truth. And now I can’t forget what it felt like, the incredible connection that pushed me beyond any pleasure I’ve ever experienced.

I want to see him again-- it’s all I can think about-- but he still hates me. My attempt at an apology was an utter failure.

So what am I supposed to do now?

*

My roommate, Tasha, finds me in my sweatpants in front of the TV. The exact same place I’ve been wallowing for three days now.

“This is getting pathetic,” she says, surveying the mess of junk food wrappers. “No guy is worth it.”

“You haven’t met Dax.” I reach for another Dorito. I still haven’t told her everything, just that Dax didn’t buy my apology. She thinks it’s just a regular break-up, she doesn’t know how complicated the whole situation is. Undercover lies, deception, and oh yes, incredibly hot sex. It’s nowhere near my normal romantic troubles.

“Aww, babe.” Tasha gives me a sympathetic look. She’s all dressed up for another night on the town in a slinky cocktail dress and heels. “You can’t let him get to you. There are plenty more fish in the sea!”

“Really?” I reply. “You happen to know any smoking hot, successful, principled guys who can make me come just by looking at me?”

Tasha stifles a laugh. “OK, maybe not. But you need to get up off this couch and get out there again,” she adds. “You can’t put your life on hold just because some guy doesn’t know how to forgive and forget. Why don’t you come out with me tonight?” she suggests. “I’m working a big party uptown.”

“Working?” I arch an eyebrow. We both know that Tasha’s Broadway dreams are still going strong despite all the unsuccessful casting calls lately, but she’s been keeping herself in designer clothes and luxury goods by doing more escort work on the side. And I don’t judge, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to follow in her footsteps.

Tasha sees my expression and rolls her eyes. “Not that kind of work,” she smirks. “Just basic party hostessing. Mingle with the guests, make sure they feel important, get them having a good time.”

“You mean, so all these guys think that hot girls actually want to talk to them?” I ask.

Tasha laughs. “Basically. But it’s three hundred for the night, plus extra on every bottle you get them to order. And Dimas is generous with the bonuses.”

I stop dead, recognizing the name. “Wait, this is for Nikolai Dimas?”

“Yeah, I think that’s his name.” Tasha strolls to the mirror and touches up her lipstick. “They’ve been throwing a ton of events this month. Lots of boring finance and real estate guys, man, they can’t flirt to save their lives.”

I think fast. Dax didn’t give me the time of day when I tried to say sorry before -- but that’s because I had nothing aside from my apology to offer him. I remember Tasha’s advice last week: to give him what he wants. And she’s right, Dax is definitely the kind of guy to value hard action over words.

Hard, deep action...

“You know what? I’m in,” I decide, getting to my feet. A shower of Doritos crumbles cascades to the floor. “Just, umm, maybe after I take a shower.”

Tasha claps her hands together. “Yay! This is going to be so much fun. The other girls can be such bitches,” she adds. “Everyone’s trying to hit up the high-rollers and earn more tips. It’s a jungle out there.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that from me,” I reassure her. “I just want to take a look around. This company might be part of a story I’m working on.”

“Sure,” Tasha shrugs. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“You let me do something with that hair.”

I pick up a lock of straggly, unwashed hair and grimace. “Deal.”

*

It takes me and Tasha a full hour to transform me from ‘miserable wallowing’ to ‘semi-hot chick’, but by the time the Towne Car arrives to pick us up and take us to the party, I can just about pass for a wannabe actress/model/hostess. I’m squeezed into one of my roommate’s glittery dresses, with fake eyelashes and my hair all mussed up in a messy bun.

Who would have guessed undercover reporting would require so much mascara?

“My school should have offered these kinds of classes as part of their journalism major,” I giggle, squeezing into the backseat next to Tasha. “How to get your story and walk in four-inch heels.”

“Shh,” Tasha says softly. She nods to the driver.

Shit.

I shut up quickly. I didn’t even think, but of course, this car was sent by the company too. All the drivers are on the payroll, and although it doesn’t look like he’s paying attention to us here in the back seat, I can’t take any chances.

“Thanks,” I whisper. Tasha winks.

“Here, your lip gloss is smudged,” she says loudly, wiping the corner. “What do you think of the UltraGloss range? I like the color, but it totally dries me out...”

As she chats away about makeup, I go over my plan for the night. I haven’t entirely wasted the past few days moping. I also followed my editor’s advice, and did some more research on Dax’s businesses and history. The city records showed me that this Nikolai guy was listed as an original investor in one of Dax’s first enterprises, a bar in Brooklyn. His name was on a property deed attached to the bar, but when it came time to re-register a year later, it was nowhere to be found.

From what I’ve discovered down by the waterfront, Dimas is in real estate, with plenty of money to burn, but it seems like this guy has a bad reputation. I guess it makes sense that Dax would get out of business with him as soon as possible, but that doesn’t explain what he’s doing back in his life again.

Maybe if I can figure it out, Dax will forgive me. It’s a long shot, I know, but I also know I’ve done wrong by lying to him. He’s keeping just as many secrets, but if I can even the scales and be useful for a change, then maybe it will help make up for my betrayal. And perhaps this Nikolai guy is the real story, not the club. I know I have nothing but questions right now, but my reporter’s instincts are telling me, something’s going on. ‘Always follow the money,’ an old professor always told us, and this Nikolai guy has plenty. He could be the key to everything.

By the time the car pulls up at a swank building in Tribeca, I’ve got my plan all figured out. I’ll nose around, see if I can get close to this Nikolai guy, or one of his business partners. If I keep my eyes and ears open, I know I can find something that might be useful to Dax.

Anything to get him to give me the time of day.

Or something more...

I push away the blazing memories of our elevator hook-up, and follow Tasha out of the car and through the gleaming doors. “Events like this, we just pretend to be regular guests,” she fills me in. We’re ushered across a marble lobby and into an elevator heading for the penthouse suite. The car is full of glamorous-looking women, and Tasha nods greetings to a few. “Smile, mingle, look like you’re having a good time,” she continues. “Basically, act like the guy you’re talking to is the most fascinating person in the room.”

“Newbie?” a statuesque blonde asks.

Tasha nods. “I’m just showing her the ropes. Oh, and if anyone asks, just say you’re interning someplace, like a PR firm. They love it when you’re an intern.”

“Because God forbid I say I’m a psychology PhD candidate with a Masters in sociology,” the blonde drawls. “His dick might just shrivel up on the spot.”

We all laugh.

“OK, for tonight, I’m interning at...a real estate company,” I decide. I figure I’ve watched enough episodes of House Hunters to be able to wing it. “What about you?”

“Oh, I tell the truth,” Tasha beams. “They love that I’m an actress.”

Figures.

The elevator stops, and we all get out -- right into the middle of a magazine photo-shoot. At least, that’s what it feels like. The penthouse is set right in the middle of the action, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the glittering New York City lights. The apartment is packed with people in designer clothes, mingling and sipping champagne, and as I look around, a waiter glides past with an amazing-looking platter of sushi.

“Wow,” I whisper to Tasha. “Thanks for loaning me this outfit. I would have been way underdressed.”

“I told you, they’re splashing money around like crazy. Hosting events every week.” Tasha plucks a couple of glasses of champagne from a nearby table and passes me one. “Don’t drink too much,” she warns me. “Just sip it.”

I check the bottle. Dom Perignon. There must be two dozen bottles lined up. Plus the catering, penthouse rental, staff...

Tasha’s right. There’s serious money here. Which means serious potential for a story.

“Ooh, there’s Miles,” Tasha says, waving to a nerdy-looking guy across the room. He lights up, and cuts towards us. “Tech billionaire,” she tells me quickly. “Sweet, but totally awkward.”

“Hi, Tasha!” Miles reaches us. He’s wearing a rumpled plaid polo shirt and khakis, and at any other party he probably would have been asked to leave by now. But I guess there are perks to being a billionaire. “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know anyone.”

“Well now you do, this is my friend Zoe.”

“Hello, Zoe.” Miles sticks out his hand, and I shake it. “Are you an actress like Tasha?” he asks eagerly.

“No, I’m an intern,” I reply brightly. “If you guys will excuse me...”

But of course, Miles is gazing adoringly at Tasha like there’s nobody else in the room. I take my cue and slip away, doing a slow circuit of the party to get the lay of the land.

I feel a buzz of excitement, all my undercover instincts back again. It was fun, sneaking around at the club, and now I’m doing the same thing here, keeping an eagle eye out for anything suspicious or any details that can be useful to me.

It’s definitely weird. Everywhere I look, glamorous young women are smiling and laughing with older, rich-looking guys. But they’re all paid to be here, flirting. For what? To make the men feel comfortable? I know it’s not like they’re going home with them, but still, it’s just odd.

Or is this just how it works in this world? I have no idea, but either way, I’m glad it gives me some cover tonight. I can just stroll around alone, and nobody will think I’m out of place.

I pull out my phone and check the research on Nikolai. Information was pretty thin on the ground, but I did find a recent photo of him at a ceremony to break ground on some development. I check the picture, then search the room for his salt and pepper hair and foreboding stare.

Bingo.

He’s over in the corner on a couch, deep in conversation with a clean-cut man in his forties. The other guy looks kind of uncomfortable, but I can see Nikolai is laying on the charm, laughing and chatting. He beckons over a tough-looking security guy and whispers in his ear. A moment later, the security guy returns with two gorgeous women. They take a seat, and begin flirting with both men.

I edge closer. The clean-cut guy is relaxing now, as he gulps champagne. Now that I have a better view, I realize, he looks kind of familiar...

I surreptitiously lift my phone and snap a quick photo, then I duck around the corner to take a closer look. I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before, and I scan back through my mind. The newspaper, or TV, or--

I stop. I know where I’ve seen him: City Hall. He’s on the city council, a politician. Andrew something...

I quickly google, and find the result.

Andrew Landsley. Rumored to be running for mayor soon.

Interesting.

I tuck my phone away and step back out into the party. All of Nikolai’s focus is on this one guy, so mine should be too. I casually stroll over, pretending to check out the view as I get within eavesdropping distance.

“...You’ve got to think of the jobs,” Nikolai is saying. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m an environmentalist too. Save the planet, you know. But at the end of the day, it’s the hard-working people of this city who need our help. Yours and mine.”

An environmentalist? I hide a snort. Sure, I bet he’s separating paper and plastic every night.

But Andrew is eating it up. “Preservation is important,” he nods. “That’s why I can’t in all good conscience support the rezoning. That land is a habitat to all kinds of endangered wildlife. I’ve seen studies--”

“Studies?” Nikolai interrupts. “Psh. Anyone can get a study done. I bet they’re telling you it polls well, too?”

Andrew nods. “Concern about the environment is a top priority for youth voters.”

“But what about the rest of us?” Nikolai replies. “Youth voters aren’t trying to put food on the table.”

“Touché,” Andrew tips his glass. “But they’re the ones getting me elected next year.”

Nikolai chortles with laughter, and the girls join in. “You’re a smart man, I’ll give you that. Always working the angles. But answer me this: are those granola-crunching kids going to pay for your campaign? Votes are one thing, but we both know, it takes a lot of money to get on their radars before Election Day.”

He looks up, and catches me watching them.

I turn back to the view and sip my champagne, hoping he’ll keep talking, but instead, Nikolai gets up.

“You know, that’s enough business for now,” he says, shooting Landsley a slimy grin. “Why don’t I introduce you to a few people? Rich people, with deep pockets, and an interest in local politics.”

Landsley chuckles. “Hey now, don’t go talking like that. This is all above board. I’m hearing you out, is all.”

“Of course.” Nikolai steers him away. “We’re all just having a little fun.”

I watch them go, an uneasy feeling taking root in the pit of my stomach. Andrew Landsley seems relaxed, but Nikolai’s looking at him like a shark circling its prey. Andrew may think he’s just chatting to an interested businessman, but I can tell, Nikolai’s got other plans.

Plans that somehow connect to Dax.

I quickly head back to Tasha, who’s surrounded by guys. “Hey, I’m sorry, I have to go,” I tell her.

“What’s the rush?” One of the guys leers at me. “Have another drink.”

“I can’t. My, umm, boss called me back in,” I say quickly. “Being an intern is the worst!”

I hurry away, already itching to hit up google and find out everything I can. This story is getting more complicated by the minute, but I’m determined to unravel the pieces. Money, power, real estate... It’s got all the makings of a front page story, I just need Dax to fill in the blanks.

Impulsively, I flag down a cab and direct him to Dax’s apartment. Things didn’t exactly go as planned the last time I showed up, but this is different. Now, I have something he can use.

Besides my body.

My stomach twists in knots as the cab drives across town. I don’t know why I need this guy to listen to me, but I do. Something about Dax has thrown me off-balance; ever since I met him, I’ve been making stupid mistakes, distracted even more from my goals. But the more I get to know him, the more I see his true character -- and feel this crazy connection between us.

It doesn’t make any sense, but something keeps drawing me back to him. Making me want to change his mind, and show I’m not just a lying, cheating girl who was using him to get ahead.

We pull up outside his apartment, and I pay the driver, climbing out. I take a deep breath, bracing myself to go ring the bell, but instead, the door flies open and Dax comes charging out.

He’s looking wildly around, clutching his phone. His expression is panicked.

“Dax? What’s wrong?” I ask, scared. I’ve never seen him look like this before.

He blinks, noticing me for the first time. And whatever it is that’s happened, it’s enough to make him forget he swore to never speak to me again.

“It’s Maria,” he says, face ashen. “There’s been an accident.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

DAX

I push through the hospital doors, looking wildly around. The late-night waiting room is packed, but I cut straight through the crowd to the front desk.

“I need to find a patient,” I demand, my pulse thundering in panic.

The nurse at the desk doesn’t even look at me. She holds up her finger for me to wait while she speaks on the phone.

My blood boils. “This is an emergency!” I growl.

She rolls her eyes. “It always is.”

The nurse turns her back on me, laughing into the phone. I open my mouth, about to rip her a new one, when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Zoe. I’d almost forgotten she was here.

“It’s OK,” she says, soothing. “We’ll figure it out. You said she was in the ER?”

I nod. “They didn’t say why. Nobody would tell me anything.” I clench my fists in frustration. I feel so powerless, not knowing what’s going on.

“So we’ll find her.” Zoe looks around. “Look, the ER is this way.”

She heads purposefully away. I follow her blindly down the maze of neon-lit hallways, thinking only of one thing. Maria. The guy on the phone didn’t say why she was here, but I know her. She wouldn’t call for me unless it was bad.

Fuck, what’s happened to her? She’s like a sister to me. I’ve spent years looking out for her and her son, they’re the closest thing I have to family. If she’s hurt, or worse...

My imagination runs riot, picturing all the terrible things that could have happened.

I pick up the pace, bursting into the ER after Zoe. I spot Maria’s dark hair across the busy room. She’s laying on a gurney, looking terrifyingly pale.

“What happened?” I go straight to her, my heart in my throat. “Maria, God, are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” she answers with a weak smile. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Where’s Luca?” I ask, struck with new fear. God, I didn’t even think... “Did something happen to him?”

“No, relax, he’s fine,” Maria reassures me. “He’s with my mom.”

That’s something, at least.

Someone clears his throat. There’s a kid in a white coat loitering nearby. “You need to stand back. I have to check her blood pressure.”

“You’re not touching her.” I glare. What kind of doctor is this? He’s barely out of his teens. “Call your boss, or supervisor, or whoever. I want a real doctor.”

“Dax...” Maria protests.

“No,” I cut her off, then turn to the kid. “Do you know what happened? Tell me everything.”

“I... umm...” The kid looks panicked. “I can’t...patient confidentiality.”

“I fell.” Maria speaks up, answering for him. “It was an accident, it’s OK. I just hit my head, that’s all. Everyone just needs to relax”

I check her expression. She tries to smile, but she glances away at the last minute. I’ve known her too long not to be able to see right through her.

There’s something she’s not telling me.

“You go get a real doctor,” I order the kid. “I want everything checked. Twice. And tell them to find a private room for her, she shouldn’t be out here.”

“Sure. Yes.” The kid scurries away.

Maria sighs. “You didn’t have to do that, he was fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough.” I turn back to her, carefully fluffing her pillow and tucking her blanket tighter. Maria bats away my hands.

“I’m fine!”

“So you keep saying.” I pull up a chair by the gurney and take her hand. “What aren’t you telling me? What happened, Maria? You’re lying, I can tell.”

She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not lying. I did fall. I just...this guy came to see me,” she finally admits. “He said he had a message from Nikolai. For you.”

Fuck.

I go cold. “What did he say? If he laid a finger on you--” I start to get up, but Maria pulls me back.

“No, he didn’t. He scared me, that’s all,” Maria insists. “I ran and tripped, and when I fell I hit my head.”

“You fell and hit your head?” I repeat. “You expect me to believe that?” I’m fuming.

Maria laughs out loud, and though it’s a forced sound, something in my chest loosens for a moment. “I swear it’s the truth, Dax. I know how stupid it sounds, but that’s what happened.” I search her eyes for a lie, but although she’s clearly shaken up, she’s telling the truth.

Still, my stomach twists at the thought of one of Nikolai’s heavies showing up on her doorstep, scaring her bad enough that she took off running. What the hell is Nikolai doing, dragging her into this mess?

“He said to tell you, Nikolai’s getting impatient.” Maria looks nervous. “Those were his exact words. What’s going on, Dax? I thought you were long gone from business with him.”

“I am. Don’t worry,” I reassure her. “He’s just trying his luck. It won’t work.”

“Nikolai doesn’t believe in luck,” Maria says softly. I forget, she’s seen it all, I can’t just brush it off with her.

She knows exactly the kind of dirt Nikolai is mixed up in -- and how it can destroy lives.

She looks past me, looking interested. “And who’s the girl?”

I turn. Zoe is waiting across the room. I completely forgot she was standing there watching. Listening. Probably thinking how to work this into a story. “Nobody,” I reply shortly.

Maria smirks. “She doesn’t look like a nobody.” She studies my face, then gives a delighted laugh. “Look at you, you’ve got it bad.”

“Not even close,” I growl, still shaken up. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is.” Maria pats my hand. “Call her over, I want to meet her.”

Luckily, we’re interrupted by another doctor arriving. This one, at least, looks like a grown adult. He checks Maria’s chart.

“Everything looks fine,” he begins, then catches the look on my face. “But just to be sure, I’m going to take you up for a CT scan, and keep you overnight for monitoring.”

“I don’t need to stay,” Maria protests. I talk over her.

“Good. Call me if anything changes.” I help her into a wheelchair for the scan, then drop a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll check in with your mom, let them know.”

“Thank you,” she smiles at me, tired. “And don’t worry about me. You’re the one who’s playing with fire here. You know Nikolai...”

I do.

I watch her get wheeled to the elevator, fragile in the chair. My rage returns. She’s never done a thing to hurt anyone, and now look at her. She must have been so scared, I can only imagine what kind of threats that jackass Dmitri made. When I get my hands on him...

“Is everything OK?” Zoe approaches.

“Not even close,” I curse. “I can’t believe Nikolai would cross this line. Threatening me is one thing, but going after Maria--”

“Dax!” Zoe’s sharp voice brings me back. People in the waiting room are staring at me. “Just calm down,” she tells me. She takes my arm and leads me through a door, into the stairwell. It’s empty here, and we’re alone. “Maria is fine,” she reminds me. “That’s the important thing.”

But for how long? Just how far will he go to get what he wants?

I look at Zoe for the first time. She’s all dressed up, I finally register. Her glittery dress is skin-tight, and she’s got sexy red lipstick on.

Was she on a date?

I’m annoyed to feel a stirring of jealousy. I shouldn’t care who she’s with or what she’s doing, especially not at a time like this.

“You should go,” I tell her, but she shakes her head.

“I need to talk to you.”

I’m about to remind her just how uninterested I am in hearing her out, when Zoe folds her arms and gives me a stubborn look.

“And I know I’m the last person in the world you want to see, but you’ll want to hear this. It’s about Nikolai.”

I freeze. “How do you know about him? You swore, you had nothing to do with the guy.”

“I don’t!” she protests. “God, will you let me get a word out before jumping down my throat?”

I glare. “I’m not in the mood for your games, Zoe. Not tonight.”

“This isn’t a game.” she grinds out. She takes a breath, as if she’s trying to keep her temper. “Look, I think I know what’s going on with Nikolai. What he wants. But you have to hear me out this time. You have to listen.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ZOE

Dax doesn’t say a word during the cab ride back to his apartment, but I can feel the tension radiating from his body beside me in the back seat.

He stares out the window, avoiding my gaze. His jaw is clenched, and he looks like he’s about to snap. I can’t imagine what he’s been through tonight. It’s clear that Maria means the world to him, even if he insists they’re not romantically involved. I try to imagine how I’d feel if something happened to my family, and feel a wave of sympathy for him.

I reach across the seat to hold his hand in a tight grasp. Dax looks down for a moment, then pulls away.

My heart sinks. I may have gotten him to give me a break, but he’s still keeping me at arm’s length. Maybe when he sees how far I’ve gone to in order to help him, he’ll understand that I’m trying to build bridges again.

The cab pulls up outside his building. Dax pays, and we get out.

“Fuck,” he swears suddenly. I look. The bartender from the club, Jimmy, I think, is waiting by the doorway, looking furious.

“What the hell, man?” Jimmy starts, approaching fast. “What’s going on? I got a call, but the hospital wouldn’t let me near her--”

Dax raises his arm, cutting him off. “Maria’s fine,” he answers curtly. He looks back at me. “You go ahead, I’ll see you upstairs.”

I’m itching to stay and find out what this new fight is about, but I’m not going to push my luck. I nod, and head inside to the elevator. But the door stays propped open, and I can’t help but hear everything as Jimmy keeps raging.

“Why the hell won’t anyone let me see her? I have a right, dammit.”

“You’re wrong.” Dax sounds calm on the surface, but I know his tone by now, and he’s anything but relaxed. “You have no rights, not as far as she’s concerned. Just go home.”

“Where’s Luca?” Jimmy keeps raging. “I want to see him. Why are you keeping him from me?”

“And I’ve told you, that’s not your decision. Maria doesn’t want you near him, not yet.” Dax sounds tired. “Look, it’s been a long night. I promise, I would have called you if it was anything serious. She’s fine, the kid’s fine. Just go home.”

“How come you’re the one who gets to see them? It’s not right.”

I start to feel guilty, eavesdropping like this. It’s a personal conversation that’s none of my business. Plus Dax didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, so he’s probably going to come inside any minute now.

I pull the grate and quickly head upstairs, to the spacious industrial calm of Dax’s apartment.

I look around. It’s just as cool as when I saw it the other night: metal accents and bare brick walls. I stifle a yawn, suddenly hit with tiredness. It’s past three AM now, and I haven’t slept properly in days. I could use a hot drink, and some food too, so I head for the kitchen area, done up in black granite and stainless steel. I feel a little like an interloper, but I figure Dax will be glad for something to eat after all the stress of the night, so I take a look in his fridge.

Empty shelves, beer, and takeout stare back at me. But I didn’t make it through college without picking up some tricks about late-night fuel: I find some bread in a cabinet, and some expensive stinky cheeses in the drawer.

Hello, grilled cheese.

By the time Dax enters the apartment, I have some hot tea brewing, and two buttery sandwiches frying on the stove.

He pauses just inside the room, looking confused.

“Sit down,” I tell him. “The food will be ready in a minute.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to argue, then stops. “Thanks,” he says instead, giving me a suspicious look.

“No problem.”

I finish up in the kitchen, then bring the tray over to his living area. Dax is sprawled in a leather armchair, so I put his plate in front of him and pour a mug of tea. “Sorry, I didn’t have much to work with,” I apologize.

“No, this is great.” He takes a bite, and looks surprised.

“You had some fig jam gathering dust, so I threw it in too,” I explain.

He gives a smile. “Maria got me that, like a year ago. Said I needed to be able to treat a woman to a good breakfast in bed.”

I settle back on the other couch, and start in on my own food. “I’m glad she’s OK,” I offer.

Dax tenses again. “For now.”

His face is shadowed. I wish I could go to him, comfort him with a touch or embrace, but I know from his reaction in the cab that he’s still distrustful. And I can’t blame him.

“And things with Jimmy...?” I ask hesitantly. I want to be supportive, but I don’t know where the boundaries are.

But Dax doesn’t snap at me. “It’s a mess,” he sighs, rueful. “We used to all be so close. We grew up together,” he explains, “Me and Jimmy, we were like brothers. And then he went and fell for Maria. She was crazy about him too,” he adds with a nostalgic smile. “She was a good girl, the best thing to ever happen to him. But Jimmy, he was already on a bad path. The crime, drugs...”

Dax shakes his head. “I’d already gotten out, away from Nikolai and his crew, but Jimmy couldn’t resist the easy cash. The power. No matter how many times she begged him to shape up, he wouldn’t listen. I tried my best, too. When Maria got pregnant, she made it clear. He could get right, and be a father and a husband to them, or he could get out.”

I already know this story won’t have a happy ending, but I can’t help asking. “What happened?”

Dax gives me a tense smile. “One last job, he called it. An armed robbery, some electronics place. They had an inside guy, it was supposed to be easy, but the security guy there decided to put up a fight. Jimmy was the getaway driver, and the police got him before anyone could make a move. Ten years in jail.”

“I’m sorry.”

Dax shakes his head, a determined look crossing his handsome face. “He made his choice. He could have gone straight, stepped up for Maria and his family, but he chose to put himself first. He missed that kid’s life, his first steps, his first words. That’s the shit you show up for, no matter what. Luca needed a father.”

“So you stepped up instead. That’s a really big deal.”

I’m struck with a new admiration for the man in front of me. He didn’t have to take on the responsibility for his friend’s failings, but he did. Not many guys would be so strong.

Or so damn sexy.

Dax shrugs off my praise. “It’s nothing. I’ve tried to do more, but Maria’s stubborn, she won’t let me interfere. She reminds me a little of you that way,” he adds with a rueful grin.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” I laugh.

He arches an eyebrow. “If you must.”

Our gaze holds for a long moment. The chemistry between us crackles back to life, like the drama of the night has made Dax forget how much he hates me. Whatever the reason, suddenly I’m painfully aware that the two of us are alone again.

My body tenses with awareness and anticipation. The last time I was here, I didn’t make it out of the elevator, but before that...

I remember his hands on my skin, the amazing feel of his body on mine.

Damn.

My cheeks get hot. I can tell from Dax’s expression, he’s seen my reaction.

He knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“So tell me, what’s so important you came all this way over again?” Dax sits back, watching me like a panther watches his prey. “You’re all dressed up.”

His gaze trails over my body. I cross my legs, feeling very revealed in this outfit.

“I was at a party tonight.” I decide to cut right to the point. “Hosted by Dimas”

Dax’s face darkens.

“I overheard him talking to Andrew Landsley,” I add. Dax doesn’t look surprised, so I continue. “I’ve seen him at the club, right? They were talking about the land development, down by the waterfront. I googled it in the cab on the way over, and it’s currently protected for the environment, but Andrew is chair of the zoning committee.”

Dax curses under his breath. “That’s what all this is about? He’s causing no end of pain, for some fucking bureaucratic regulation?”

“That regulation is worth a hundred million dollars, maybe more,” I correct him. “Dimas has bought up a bunch of property, evicted all the residents. If Andrew decides to push for rezoning, strip away all the environmental protections, then Nikolai’s sitting on prime land. Think about it: waterfront condos, shopping development, office buildings. He’ll make a fortune!”

Dax gets up and goes to the bar. “I’m going to need something stronger for this.” He holds up a bottle of whiskey. “Want one?”

I shake my head. I can’t risk getting out of control this time.

Dax pours himself a drink. He knocks it back in one go. “Nikolai came to me, told me he wanted photos of the politician. You know, in compromising situations.”

“So he could blackmail him into the vote.” I nod. “Makes sense, in an evil asshole way.”

Dax snorts. “Evil asshole, that’s about right.” He shakes his head. “Damn. No wonder he’s going to so much trouble, with this much money on the line.”

He walks back over. This time, he sits beside me on the couch.

“What are you going to do?” I ask, trying to focus on the problem, and not his body, so close to mine. “You’re caught in the middle here. As long as Andrew holds the cards over the land zoning, Nikolai needs leverage.”

“Not just leverage. He needs to blackmail him,” Dax reminds me. “Which I’m not going to help him with. Not under any circumstances. My club is a safe place. Every time a member walks in, I’m promising to protect their secrets. That’s the unspoken code, it’s the foundation of everything I do.”

He looks determined, and damn, it’s hot. It would be easy for him to roll over, give Nikolai what he wants, and make the whole mess go away. But he’s standing up for something, trust and loyalty, no matter what the cost.

“We’ll think of something,” I reassure him. “There has to be a way out of this.”

His eyes flick over to me. “We?” he echoes.

I hold his gaze. “I thought you realized by now, I’m stubborn.”

Dax’s eyes blaze into mine. “And how am I supposed to trust you this time?” he demands. “How do I know you’re not in league with him? Or that you won’t just turn around and screw me over for the sake of your newspaper career?”

“I swear, I’m telling you the truth. I’ll do anything to prove you can trust me.”

“Anything...” Dax gulps the last of his whiskey, then puts the glass down. He gets up, and my heart sinks.

This is it, he’s going to throw me out now, send me packing without listening to another word.

But instead, he gives me a look that twists my insides. And I know what that look in his eyes means.

Hot. Dark.

Hungry.

“Get up,” he orders me. I don’t think twice before getting to my feet. Fuck, I’m already turned on, just from that deliciously dominant tone in his voice.

I wait, standing there as he slowly loosens his tie. Please don’t let this be another fake-out, I find myself silently praying. I can’t take another one of his games, not when the heat is racing through my body, and I can imagine how amazing it will be to have his hands on my skin.

His mouth.

That tongue...

Dax stalks closer, until he’s just inches away from me. “Why are you still here?” he asks, reaching out to touch my cheek. He traces his thumb over my lips, sending heat rushing straight between my thighs. “Dammit, Zoe, I can’t figure you out.”

Nor can I. Getting even more involved with him is dangerous, but I can’t stay away.

“I want to help,” I insist weakly. But that’s not the whole truth, and we both know it, so I force myself to continue.

“And I want you.”

Dax’s stare darkens. Something changes in his expression, like he’s finally reached a decision.

“Then take off your clothes. Now.”

Yes.

I obediently strip off the skimpy dress I’m wearing, leaving me in nothing but black lacy lingerie. All it takes is one look from him, and the drama and conflict between us fades away. Right now, there’s nothing but this heat, the chemistry compelling me to wait for his next order, his next move.

Anything he wants, I need it too.

Dax gets a dangerous look in his eyes. “You want me to trust you,” he says. “So you need to give up that same trust to me.”

My mind races. What is he talking about?

“Come.” He turns on his heel and strides across the loft. I want to resist his orders, but I can’t help but follow. The cool air whispers against my bare skin, and I find myself nervous all of a sudden, almost naked in my skimpy underwear and heels.

Dax leads me up to the bedroom, set on a mezzanine level above the main loft. It’s outfitted in sleek, minimal decor with a vast bed in the middle of the room. He dims the lights, so there’s just a soft glow from the spotlights above the headboard. My thoughts are zinging around in my head, but Dax just eyes me coolly, completely in control.

“Sit,” he says.

My stubborn streak rears its head. “I’m not a dog,” I reply.

His eyes rove over me. “Funny, I was just thinking you need a collar.”

My stomach flips. Oh my God, what am I getting into here? In a flash, I remember all the sexy, adventurous things I’ve seen at the club. Bondage, flogging, threesomes...

The thoughts are scary -- but hot, too. Every one of my encounters with Dax has been the wildest sexual experience of my life. He keeps raising the bar, so what’s he planning next?

Dax goes to the dresser and opens a drawer. He pulls out two of his ties, then waits.

I fight a battle in my mind between arguing with his domineering tone, or just submitting and getting to the good stuff.

I submit.

I take a seat on the edge of the bed and give him an expectant look. Dax’s mouth quirks with amusement.

“Nobody would ever mistake you for a sub,” he smirks.

“I thought a sub’s failures were always the fault of her Dom,” I reply sweetly.

He chuckles. “I should just let you loose in the club with a Dominatrix whip and heels.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Really?” Dax steps closer. He trails his hand across my shoulders and collarbone, making me shiver. Slowly, he takes my wrists and binds them together with one of the silk ties.

My heart races.

“I thought you liked it when I pushed you around,” he murmurs, suddenly yanking the ties tight.

I gasp.

“You didn’t have any complaints when I ordered you to suck my cock.”

His tone is casual, but that makes what he’s saying so much hotter.

“Or when I pinned you down and fucked you up against the wall. You were begging for more,” Dax muses, tugging my bound arms above my head. I have no choice but to lift them, totally restrained.

My breasts jut out, covered only in lace. Dax smirks, using his other hand to lightly stroke and tease the tender swells of flesh. “See, that’s your secret,” he continues, his voice low and sexy. “You’re stubborn and head-strong, but deep down, you want a man who knows how to push back. To tell you when to shut the hell up and get on your knees.”

I wish I could argue, but the truth is, that’s exactly what I want. I love the steel in his voice, and the glint in his eye.

I’ve never met a man like him before.

“Now, let’s see how much control you’re willing to give up,” he murmurs. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

I shiver. God, how does he do this to me? Just a moment ago, I was determined to hold my own, but now my thighs are clenches, my nipples hard. I would do anything he asked of me.

I close my eyes and slowly part my lips.

There’s a pause, and then I feel the cool rustle of silk against my skin. The world goes dark as Dax slips the other tie over my eyes and ties it behind my head.

Now my hands are bound, and I’m blindfolded too. Totally at his mercy.

And totally turned on.

I hear the sound of a belt buckle, a zipper, and my pulse races as my mouth goes dry. But when I start to close my jaw to swallow, Dax growls, “I said open.”

I obey, choosing instead to run my tongue over my lips, wetting them. I hear him inhale.

“New plan. Lay back,” he commands.

With my hands tied, I have to awkwardly scoot back on the bed until I’m laying on the crisp linens, anxiously awaiting his next move. I feel a slight tug on my wrists, pulling them back above my head. He ties them to the headboard, so I’m bound in place.

Silence.

“Dax?” I can hear my heart pounding, waiting for Dax’s next instruction. The seconds stretch, and I’m struck with a terrible fear that this is all some kind of elaborate payback. He could leave me laying here, tied and blindfolded. If the point is to prove that I’m powerless, he’s making it, alright.

But even through the nerves, I remember the way he looked at me. Touched me. Like he wanted to possess me completely. He wouldn’t just walk away.

Would he?

“OK, I get it. You’ve proven your point,” I say, nervous. I twist my head around, but I can’t hear anything. “I have to trust you right now. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

There’s no reply.

I hear music start to play down in the main room. It filters up to me, something electronic, sexy and intense. It wraps around my mind, heightening every sense as I lay here in the dark. I can feel the scratch of my lace lingerie against my flushed skin, the pressure from my restraints, the liquid heat between my thighs as I picture all the things he could do. The darkness seems to swallow me up, until the pounding of my heart pulses through my body in an intoxicating rhythm.

What will he do to me? How far will Dax go to prove his point?

I feel the air shift around me. Heat, close, just out of reach.

I freeze.

It’s him.

CHAPTER NINE

DAX

I watch her squirm on the bed, testing her restraints. I tied them deceptively loose: enough to give a little, but not so much that she has any real control.

Let’s see how the most stubborn person I’ve ever met likes being at my mercy.

I sit on the bed beside her, holding the glass of whiskey I refilled downstairs. She turns her head towards me.

“Dax?”

I don’t say a word. I can see her chest rising and falling as she pants a nervous breath. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Her body is waiting for me, arrayed in black lace and tempting scraps of silk. The dim lights glow on her tanned skin and sensuous curves.

I’m going to enjoy this.

Blood is pounding in my veins, hardening my cock and setting my nerves on edge, but I force myself to hold back. Last time I claimed her, it was hard and fast. Pure animal instinct. Tonight, I’m going to take my time. Sample every last delight this body can provide, and show Zoe what it really means to feel pleasure.

Tonight, I need her to surrender completely. I have to know she’s not hiding anything from me anymore. I want her begging, I want her screaming my name.

I want everything, dammit, and I won’t stop until she’s mine.

I take an ice cube from my glass, and let it drip over her bare stomach. Zoe flinches as the freezing water hits her skin.

“Dax?” she asks again, her voice rising with nerves.

“Shh,” I tell her, finally breaking my silence. “Just relax.”

“Kind of hard to do when I’m trussed up here like a prize turkey,” she says with her usual sass.

I let myself smile, knowing she can’t see me. “Quiet,” I order her, louder. “Or do I need to gag you as well?”

That shuts her up, even though I’m not serious about the gag. I have much better plans for that delicious mouth of hers...

I lean over and kiss her, slowly tasting her lips. She relaxes with a soft moan, licking into my mouth and giving in completely to my probing tongue. The kiss deepens, as I feel her whole body rise towards me, craving more.

It’s intoxicating, the taste of her, the feel of her tits against my chest, but I pull back. This isn’t about my pleasure, not yet. First, I need her driven crazy with need.

I take the ice cube, and gently run it over Zoe’s lips. She shivers, and I see her skin prickle. Her nipples rise, stiff through the lace of her bra.

I can’t resist pressing the ice to them, each in turn.

She lets out a yelp, and tries to shrink away.

“I didn’t say you could move.” My voice is cold, commanding. She stills.

I skim the melting cube down between her ribs, and let it sit in the hollow of her bellybutton.

Zoe catches her breath, her chest heaving.

She’s not as experienced as she seems, I realize. I know my tastes have been schooled by years at the club, but Zoe has only been there a couple of weeks. She’s still green, untested.

She doesn’t know what it’s like to delay pleasure until you’ll do anything to relieve the intense need.

The knowledge sends a new bolt of lust through me. God, I’m going to teach her everything. Break her in the way a wild colt needs to be ridden.

I lean over, and lick the melted liquid from her skin. Zoe sighs in pleasure. I trail higher, up to her breasts. I peel down her bra, baring the sweet swells and rosy nipples. Goddamn, she’s gorgeous.

I take another ice cube, this time teasing around her breasts, not quite touching the stiff peaks. Zoe’s breath quickens. She wriggles on the bed, and I can see her press her thighs together. She tugs at her wrists, still tied tight to the headboard above her, but my handiwork doesn’t shift an inch.

“Oh,” she moans, arching up against my wandering hands. “Dax...”

I love the sound of her voice like this. Raw and unstudied. She couldn’t lie to me like this if she tried.

I bend my head and suck one hard nipple in my mouth, rasping my hot tongue across the cool skin. She jolts off the bed, but I pin her down, my hands flat against her body, pressing her into the mattress as I suck and tease the sensitive peak.

Now her moans turn to gasps. She lifts her hips, unconsciously pressing herself closer to me.

It would be rude to ignore such a gift.

I move the melting cube down her body, rubbing it over her lace-clad mound. She shudders under my hands. I slide the ice under the silk of her panties, down over her clit to the already-wet pool between her thighs.

The melted ice drips over my fingers, mingling with her juices. I slide my fingers into her mouth. She sucks, moaning, and the sound goes straight to my dick.

Fuck.

My self-control slipping, I yank her panties off. Her thighs fall open, the creamy flesh revealing her ripe pussy. I lean over her, savoring the moment, every shudder and flinch of her impatient body.

“I’m going to lick you and suck you and make you come.” I grip her thighs and part them wider, feeling the heat radiate. She tugs at her restraints again, making a noise of frustration.

“Don’t be so impatient, Zoe, love. I’m just looking at your gorgeous pussy, deciding if I want to lick you first, or put all my fingers in you, or maybe have you ride my face.”

But I already know what I want. I need to have my mouth on her. I bend my head closer to her cunt, inhaling the scent of her desire before I lick up against her clit and suck it into my mouth.

She cries out, bucking her hips off the bed.

I return to lapping and suckling at the tender nub. Zoe moans against me, panting. I tease her with gentle strokes, swirling around and dipping my tongue into her slick pussy.

“Dax,” she gasps. “Please...”

“Please, what?” I tease some more, this time fingering her softly, nudging just inside but no further.

“Please, more,” Zoe begs. She thrusts her hips closer, trying to take my fingers deeper inside, but I pull back, out of reach.

“I told you, relax.”

I push her back down on the bed and return my attentions to her delicious cunt. I lick and suck at her, finding a rhythm only to break it again when her moans become frenzied. Slowly, methodically, teasingly, I take her to the edge and back, over and over again until Zoe is whimpering in desperate need.

“Please,” she chants. “Oh, God, right there!”

I pull back, giving her a moment to come down from the edge. She’s shaking now, her skin flushed. She thrashes at the restraints, her desperation taking on a new edge.

“This isn’t funny anymore,” her jaw clenches. “Now I’m just pissed off.”

I laugh, slipping one finger inside her. Zoe tries to bear down on it, anything to get some friction, but just as fast, I slide away.

“Bastard,” she curses.

I trail my hand back up her body, teasing her naked stomach and breasts. Zoe’s mouth sets in a stubborn scowl beneath the blindfold. “I’m not turned on anymore,” she informs me. “You dragged it out too long. I’m over it.”

“Liar,” I lean in close, and nip at her earlobe. Zoe’s breath catches. I brush my fingertips over her breasts, so softly, she whimpers again. “See, you’re still there. So close. But you can’t quite get there, can you? You need me to fuck you, don’t you? You need my cock slamming inside you, hitting just the right spot.”

“What do you want from me?” Zoe demands. “If you want me to beg, I’ll do it. I’ve been doing it for hours now.” Even under the blindfold, bound and powerless, Zoe is still a force to be reckoned with.

“Maybe I like seeing you like this,” I muse, taking a free rein over her body. I prop myself on one elbow above her, enjoying the view as she tries not to writhe at my every touch.

“Sadist,” Zoe glowers.

“Would a sadist do this?” I slide my hand back down her body, finding her warm, tight cunt ready for me. I slip two fingers insider her this time and pulse, leaning to capture her mouth in a hot, commanding kiss.

Zoe groans into my mouth. I pump hard inside her, giving her the friction she needs, my thick fingers stretching her open, invading her as I curl deep and hard. She arches up against me, and I swear I can feel her heart beating in her chest as I push her to the edge with every thrust. Closer, closer--

I pull away.

“Fuck!” Zoe swear against me, then bites down on my lip.

“Ow.” I pull away, tasting blood.

“You deserve it.” I can hear the anger in her voice. “Now, are you going to keep fucking around, or are you going to give me what I need?”

“And what’s that?” I ask, intoxicated by her boldness.

“Your cock.” Zoe bites her lip and her voice goes soft, pleading. “I need you inside me. God, Dax, you don’t even know.”

But I do. Because I guarantee, whatever Zoe is feeling, I’m experiencing it tenfold. Torturing her has been a torment to me too, testing every last thread of my self-control. My whole body is screaming to do as she begs and just fuck her right now: pound inside her all the way and show her what nine inches of hard cock feels like tearing her apart from the inside out.

I want to ravage her. I want to claim that wet, needy cunt for my own.

But first, I want her screaming.

I sit up, taking the last ice cube from my glass, and downing the final shot of whiskey. Then, without warning, I push the ice deep inside her.

Zoe’s whole body goes rigid. She cries out in pleasure as my fingers follow, fucking her deep. I dive back between her thighs and attack that delicious clit with new fervor. Licking, suckling, nipping at the bud; I don’t let up for a moment, even when Zoe’s moans rise to fever pitch. She thrashes, overcome.

“No, please, I can’t—”

She tries to pull away, the pleasure is too overwhelming, but I don’t stop. I lap at her, relentless, thrusting my fingers in time.

“Oh, oh!” she cries, going tense. “Oh, God.”

“No, baby,” I lift my head, loving the sight of her. “It’s all me.”

I curl my fingers up again, rubbing her just right, deeper, faster, and she comes with a scream right before my eyes. Her body arches as the climax explodes through her. And as she shudders in pleasure, I position myself between her thighs and thrust into her, impaling her with my hungry cock right in the midst of her orgasm.

Zoe lets out a new cry as I plunge deep inside her.

Fuck.

Her cunt convulses around me, a vice-like grip. She locks her legs around my waist, bringing me even deeper. Goddamn, she feels so good. I grit my teeth and thrust, riding out the waves of her pleasure -- and driving her to another orgasm as I pound into her.

“Dax,” she gasps. “Please...untie me!”

I reach up and free her hands, then yank off her blindfold. Zoe’s blue eyes gaze back at me, a fevered desire clouding their clear depths. In an instant, she locks her arms around my neck and kisses me, desperate and raw, her body still bucking against mine in a dizzying rhythm.

I roll us, flipping her on top. I bring her hips down hard and surge up inside her. Zoe throws her head back, thrusting her hips to meet every stroke. She’s a goddess above me, totally unleashed. Her breasts bounce as she rides me harder, moaning, which just turns me on more. The sight of her, the feel of her tight cunt clenching around me, it’s exactly what I want.

I don’t care about truth, or lies, or her betrayal anymore. All I want is this feeling, so damn good. Whatever the cost. Whatever it takes.

I explode up inside her, spurting deep as the climax rips through my body.

Fuck.

CHAPTER TEN

ZOE

I wake up in an unfamiliar bed, way too comfortable to be my own. I yawn, rolling over and snuggling deeper in the impossibly-soft bedding. Then I feel the delicious ache in my thighs and the heavy tiredness in my limbs.

Dax.

I sit up, blinking as I look around. Daylight is flooding into the loft through the massive windows, making it crisp and bright. It looks like a different world than last night, when everything seemed dim and seductive.

I catch sight of Dax’s tie, crumpled on the bedside table, and shiver.

Holy hell, last night was hot.

No, hot doesn’t even begin to describe it. I can’t believe what he did to me, or how good it felt. My nipples pucker just at the memory of his firm grip, and the way his tongue drove me crazy, licking just right.

And his cock...I’ve never been fucked like that. Didn’t even really know it was possible.

I take a breath, flushing to remember the way he fucked me. In the elevator, he had been furious and frantic, almost brutal in his passion. But last night...Dax tormented me, relentless, driving so deep, I’m surprised I didn’t pass out from the sheer overwhelming sensation.

It was incredible. Unbelievably good.

And I want more.

“Dax?” I call softly, looking around. There’s no sign of him, and I can’t hear anyone downstairs.

What if he’s gone?

I grab his shirt from where he left it on the floor and pull it over my head. Then I head down the spiral staircase into the loft.

It’s empty. Nobody’s here.

My heart sinks. This keeps happening. Every time I think I’ve broken through to Dax, he pushes me away again. Is it the fact that I lied to him in the beginning, or something else? I’ve apologized, I’m making it right by helping him with Nikolai, and I don’t know what else I can do.

Maybe he just doesn’t want this to be real.

I’m about to grab my clothes and leave when the elevator rattles back up. The grille opens, and Dax steps out -- carrying two coffees and a bakery bag. “You’re up,” he says, strolling over. He sets the coffees down, and pulls me in for a kiss.

I’m flooded with relief. For the first time, Dax isn’t shutting me out.

“What time is it?” I ask when he releases me.

“After eleven.”

I blink. “I can’t believe I slept so long.”

He smirks. “You were out cold. I could have pulled the fire alarm and it wouldn’t have woken you.”

“Well, somebody wore me out.” I take a coffee and drink a long sip. “Oh God, that’s good.”

“I got bagels, too.” Dax starts unpacking. “Since you pointed out I have nothing to offer a woman.”

“In your fridge, at least.” I grin, and hop up to sit on the kitchen island. The marble countertop is cool, but it feels good against my bare aching thighs.

Dax turns back to me, moving to stand between my knees. “And elsewhere?” he asks with a flirty glint in his eyes.

He moves closer, until he’s nestled between my thighs. He nudges against me, and I can feel his cock through the fabric of his jeans, already getting hard.

“Hmmm,” I tease, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know. I would have to do a thorough investigation.”

Dax’s smile slips. “What’s happening with that? Your story into the club?”

I could kick myself for reminding him. “I don’t know yet,” I tell him, trying to be honest. “I don’t think the club is the story anymore. But this land deal? The city council, and possible corruption? That’s a big deal. The public deserves to know about it.”

“How very noble.” Dax stays cool. He steps away, but I lock my legs around him, trapping him close.

“Hey,” I say softly, reaching to cup his face. “What do you want me to say? I won’t lie to you, Dax. I want that story. That job. But that doesn’t mean I’m the enemy here. I’m not sneaking around anymore.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

“We both want the same thing,” I point out. “To bring down Nikolai, and expose him for the bottom-feeder he is. If we work together, we can make it happen.”

“Together?” Dax echoes, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Is that so hard for you to consider?” I say, smiling. “I know you’re a lone wolf and all, but I do bring some skills to the table.”

He laughs. “I know all about your skills...”

Dax slides his hands up my bare legs. I shiver. “I can type a million words a minute, and hold my breath underwater for a really long time too.”

Dax’s hands move higher. I let out a moan as he finds my pussy again, slick and aching for him.

“I always liked this shirt,” he murmurs, leaning to kiss me. I sway against him, loving the feel of his solid body and wicked, delving fingers. “Never take it off.”

“Never?” I let my head fall on his shoulder, thrusting against his hand as I reach for his belt.

“Good point.” Dax groans as I push down his pants and close my hand around his cock. “New rule: when you’re here in this apartment, you get naked as soon as fucking possible.”

He yanks the shirt open. Buttons go flying, but neither of us care. He closes his mouth around one breast as I pull his hips closer.

As he thrusts hard into me, I moan out loud. How can this feel so good? His cock slides deep inside, the friction driving me crazy, stretching me open, filling me up.

I reach to grab his ass, but Dax takes my wrists and pins them behind my back. He rocks into me again, controlling the pace, tormenting me with the thick, sweet strokes.

“Fuck,” I gasp, as his body pistons. The pressure is insane, rubbing my clit with every thrust.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth,” Dax growls, biting down lightly on my lower lip. I shudder, pleasure and pain thrumming through my body in an irresistible rush.

“It’ll be filthier when it’s wrapped around your cock,” I whisper in his ears.

Dax grips my wrists harder, grinding up so his dick fills me completely, hitting that sweet spot. “Right there,” I moan.

“You mean, here?” Dax thrusts again.

“Fuck. Yes. Fuck!” I can hear my voice rising, desperate, but I don’t care. All I care about is the relentless thick glide of his cock inside me, every inch spearing me closer to oblivion, the precipice just out of reach. “Dax,” I pant, rocking to meet him. “Don’t stop.”

“No fucking way.” Dax slams into me, so hard I would jolt back on the countertop if he wasn’t holding me down, pinning me in place. “You’re mine,” he growls, forcing me to look at him, to see the possession on his face. His eyes blaze with intensity, totally dominant and fierce. “You belong to me now.”

With a final thrust, he takes me over the edge. My body combusts in a shattering rush, and then he sounds a raw cry, exploding into me.

Oh. My. God.

I come back to reality. Dax carries me over to a dining chair and sets me down at the table. He puts my coffee in front of me, and unwraps a bagel, fully-loaded.

“Breakfast is served,” he smirks, still naked from the waist down.

I’m still reeling from my incredible orgasm. “That’s full service for you.”

He chuckles, pulling his clothes right and taking a seat beside me. “See, I have skills too.”

He demolishes his bagel in three bites, then looks hopefully at mine.

“Nope,” I snatch it away. “Something tells me I’m going to need some fuel.”

Dax grins. “Eat up then. I’ve got plans for you later.”

I feel a happy glow, sitting back and sipping my coffee. I sneak a look at Dax. Did he mean what he said just now, that I’m his? Or was that just getting caught up in the sex? Some guys will say anything in the heat of the moment.

Either way, I’m happy not to push it. Right now, it’s enough that we’re relaxing together without any secrets, or lies, or conflict between us.

“So what’s your plan for the day?” Dax asks, still eyeing my bagel.

I take pity on him, and pass him half. He wolfs it down right away. “I don’t know.” I think. “I need to go home and change, maybe fill in some more job applications. I might have to swallow my pride and beg my old classmates to hook me up with a job somewhere.”

“You, proud? I’d never guess it,” Dax teases.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I reply lightly. “Maybe if you took me out for dinner tonight, we could have an actual conversation for a change.”

He grins. “You mean instead of just fighting and tearing each other’s clothes off?”

“We can do that too,” I say. “After.”

“Deal.” Dax nods. “I’ve got some business to attend to, so why don’t I pick you up at your place at eight? We could have that dinner, then stop by the club for dessert.”

“Sounds good to me.” I smile. Then a thought strikes me. “You won’t do anything stupid, will you? Going after Nikolai, I mean.”

With all the hot sex, I forgot about what happened before that last night: Nikolai’s guy threatening Maria, and what I learned at the party about the land deal.

Dax’s smile slips. “I can’t promise you that.”

“Please, just wait,” I beg him, suddenly scared. “There’s a way out of this, if we just think it through. A way to expose his blackmail, so he gets what he deserves. He’s not someone you can just walk up and threaten.”

“Believe me, I know just what kind of man he is.” Dax’s jaw gets tense. I reach over and take his hand.

“Give it a day or two,” I urge him. “Let’s play this smart. I know between the two of us, we can figure it out. I don’t want you getting hurt,” I add. “Please.”

Dax takes a long moment, then nods. “I agree, brute force won’t achieve anything. I’ll take a beat to think about it -- but I won’t take long,” he warns me. “Nobody messes with the people I love and gets away with it.”

*

I get dressed in last night’s clothes and head home, ready to take a half-hour hot shower and revel in my memories of last night. But just as I make it through the door, my cellphone rings.

Granger.

I feel a guilty pang. There’s no way I can keep talking to him about everything that’s happened with Dax and the club. We crossed a line last night, and now my loyalty is to Dax, not this editor. Maybe the mess with Nikolai and the land deal will turn out to be something, but I can’t say for sure anymore that I would run with the story if it risked harming Dax.

I’m facing a choice now, between Dax and my future, but after everything we’ve shared, it feels like no choice at all.

I need to quit the story for good.

I quickly shower and change, and head in to the newspaper office. Granger waves me straight in, and I nervously take a seat on the other side of his desk, bracing myself to break the news.

“So where are we?” he asks, munching on a sandwich. “I’ve been pulling background on Landsley, lots of happy family values bullshit, but it’s going to blow up in his face when we run the truth about all his kinky extra-curricular games.”

I feel a chill. “That’s the thing...” I hate having to do this. I’m basically committing career suicide, blowing the one big shot I’ve got.

But Dax is worth it. I know he is.

“I’m dropping the story,” I tell Granger.

“What the hell?” He pauses, his sub halfway to his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, “But I can’t keep digging like this. It’s nobody’s business what Andrew Landsley does in private. I can’t just expose him like this, not without proof he’s done something corrupt.”

“Of course he’s corrupt!” Granger explodes. “He’s a fucking politician getting spanked on the weekends.”

I stare, shocked. “This was supposed to be a real investigation, in the public interest,” I tell him. “But there’s no evidence he’s been compromised, or doing favors.”

Sure, I heard him talking with Nikolai, but he hadn’t agreed to anything. And Dax is refusing to give Nikolai any leverage for blackmail, so I don’t see how Andrew is corrupt.

Granger snorts. “Are you stupid, or just naive?” he demands. “Sex sells, what kind of business do you think we’re in here? If I get photos of that guy in a ball-gag on my front page, circulation will go through the roof.”

I can’t believe it. I look at him in disbelief. “But you told me, this story was about money. Power! Real news that mattered.”

Granger gives me a pitying look. “Sure, that would be the icing on the cake, but hell, we’re running this either way. You don’t even realize what you’re sitting on. A story like this goes national -- blogs, TV. And we’re ready to clean up.”

“No!” I get up, furious at him -- and myself, for not realizing what he was after all along. “I’m not doing it.”

“Are you sure about that?” Granger gives me a smug grin. “How about I sweeten the deal? Staffer position, news department. A full-time job. That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it?”

I pause. Everything I wanted, right within reach.

But at what price?

“No,” I tell him firmly. “You can forget about this story. I won’t sell him out like that.”

“I didn’t realize you cared so much about Landsley,” Granger sneers. “What, are you part of his kinky sex games too?”

It’s not Landsley I care about. And Dax has worked too hard, and come too far, for me to bring his whole empire crashing down.

“I’m done,” I tell Granger, turning to leave.

“You’re going to regret this!” His angry yell follows me out. “I’m going to get this story, one way or another!”

I walk quickly away, my heart pounding. I can’t believe what I’ve just thrown away here, but in my heart, I know it’s the right thing to do. I don’t want anything else to come between Dax and I, and I believe what I told the editor: what people do in the privacy of the club is none of our business. It’s a place to be free, to indulge fantasy.

I won’t judge them, and I won’t let Granger expose them either.

My certainty grows as I exit the newspaper and head home. I can’t take any more secrets. From now on, I want to be out in the open. Do things above board. Sure, going undercover was a thrill, but lying to everyone doesn’t sit right for me anymore. I know there has to be a way for me to do the work I want -- real, important journalism -- without all the guilt and betrayal.

I let myself into my building, and start the long walk up to the fourth floor. My phone buzzes with a text.

8pm. Panties optional.

I grin, typing out a quick reply.

Only if you go commando too.

I reach our floor. Someone jostles me on their way into the stairwell, some jerk neighbor. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but he just keeps moving.

I let myself in. Tasha is out, so I have the place to myself. I kick off my shoes and go collapse face-down on my bed with a groan of satisfaction. I’m exhausted, and judging by the past twenty-four hours, I’m going to need my energy tonight.

I yank the drapes closed, and set my alarm. A real date with Dax... the thought brings a smile to my lips as sleep takes me over. It’s just the beginning for us, I know.

*

When I wake, I can’t breathe. Smoke hangs heavy around me, heat burning, choking me. I scream for help, but there’s no answer.

The apartment is on fire.

TO BE CONTINUED.

What happens next? Zoe and Dax’s story concludes in The Exposé 4

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