Concealment (The Cassano Series Book 1) (9 page)

Adrian

My phone rings for the fourth time when I finally give up on sleep. After leaving Victoria last night, I was wound too tightly to go to my penthouse.

I ended up in the office, working until one this morning, and by the time I went to bed, it was three a.m.

I was going to sleep until noon, but no one will leave me the hell alone, so I slam my hand down on the alarm that would’ve went off in a couple of hours.

After taking a piss, I step into the shower. My dick is wide awake this morning as thoughts of Victoria still linger.

I set the nozzle to a light spray, and the sensation of the water hitting my cock has it hardening even more.

My balls have ached since my erection was shoved against her last night. I’ve never wanted to bury myself in a woman so badly.

Other than my determination to fuck her, I have no idea what I’m going to do with Victoria. I like her, and that’s a problem.

My original plan was to keep an eye on her until she gave up on finding any wrong doing at the casino and quit her job.

Once I met her and realized how hot she was, I wanted to have some fun with her before she quit. Now, I feel like I know her.

She’s smart, tough and sexy as hell. Victoria is not a phony and full of silicone like most of the women I encounter in Sin City. She’s gorgeous, her body curvy yet tight.

She smells sweet like a bouquet of flowers yet possesses an untamed passion she wants freed. I have felt it every time I’ve touched her.

The wild current radiates from her skin. She wants to let loose, and I’m more than willing to help her do that.

Imagining my mouth grazing down her neck and chest, I take hold of my shaft with my soaped up hand and stroke.

I feel the outline of my throbbing vein as I firmly and slowly stir up the burning tension in my balls.

With fingers fisted, I increase my speed as desire for Victoria drives my movement. I envision my straining cock sliding in and out of her tight pussy while she moans, my name heard amongst her panting breaths.

The sight of her head thrown back, pelvis arching, allowing me to bury deeper has hot cum spurting in my hand.

My free palm presses against the ceramic tile next to me in the shower as the pleasure charges through my body.

I know the relief I feel will be temporary since every fantasy of touching Victoria adds to my tank of fueled lust.

Having her beneath me, my dick tightly sheathed inside her is the only way I will feel satisfied. I’m hopeful I’ll be able to move on after that.

Victoria

Reggie and I are riding to The Executive Club when my phone vibrates, so I pull it from my pocket.

Adrian:
You and me–tonight. Don’t make me come looking for you, or I’m fucking you on the hood of my car.

Me:
How did you get my number, and is that a threat?

Adrian:
Human Resources
, and i
t’s a fact, Ms. Stuart. My penthouse or the hood of the Vanquish. I’ll let you pick the setting.

Me:
You’re brazen.

Adrian:
And I’m certain you like it. No more cat and mouse. Be prepared for me to touch you extensively.

The butterflies take flight, and I press a hand to my stomach. Having no clue how to reply to that, I clear my throat and shove my phone back into my pocket.

Adrian provokes a sensual, wild part of me I didn’t know existed. No other man has tried to rile it to the surface, and I must say I find it liberating. It’s also a real turn on that he is confident in the challenge.

***

The club has an odd smell when Reggie and I enter. It’s cigarette smoke with an overlay of women’s perfume. The room is dim except for the bright lights spotlighting the stage that sits in the center.

There is a woman dancing on a pole at each corner, but the one in the middle is empty. The place is fairly dead, and I’m guessing it’s because it is three in the afternoon.

I decided to wear my heels, hoping we might blend in like a couple rather than detectives.

Reggie has been edgy since I returned from meeting Tara, and I don’t know what his problem has been lately. I’m growing tired of his pouting.

We approach the bar, and I discretely show the scantily dressed bartender my badge. She ignores me and goes back to drying a glass with a cloth, staring at it the entire time.

“Can you direct me to Sonya and Rosy?” I ask. Her more than adequate breasts keep bouncing from her movement, and I try not to peek at them.

They’re stuffed into a shiny, hot pink top that stops right below her breasts. It barely has sleeves and dips into a deep V.

She appears to be in her early twenties, so maybe they’re real. Finally, she looks up at me again.

“Hold on a second. I have to call someone.”

After strolling to the other end of the long bar, she picks up a phone. I turn back to Reggie and watch him as he stares at the dancers.

The one closest to us is swaying her hips as her hands grip the pole above her head. Her bare breasts are lifted from the pose.

She’s wearing only a pair of black panties, and bold and shiny seems to be the theme in this strip club.

“You better stop the gawking before you’re tenting your jeans.”

He smirks and rolls his eyes, which he does to me at least a dozen times a day.

“Hey, lady,” the bartender says.

I whip around and glare at her.
Hey, lady?
Does this woman have any manners?

“I’m Detective Hart.”

Now, she’s rolling her eyes. “Detective Hart, you two can go through that door at the back of the room there.”

She points, so I follow the direction of her rude finger. “After you go through that one, the second door on the left is the dressing room. Just knock first so they’re decent.”

Seriously? The strippers are topless out here. How decent are they going to be? Reggie and I stride toward the door.

I guess I’m not one to talk about appearing decent since I’ll have my hooker outfit on soon enough.

I tap three times on the door before a woman opens it. “Hi, I’m Detective Hart, and this is Detective Soren.” I hold up my badge. “We’re looking for Sonya and Rosy.”

“I’m Sonya. Come in.” The redhead steps aside for us to enter. She’s wearing a t-shirt and tiny, denim shorts. Her hair is short, makeup thick, and I smell perfume.

She points to a woman at a vanity. “That’s Rosy.” With her back facing the door, the lady peers at us through the mirror. She powders her face before turning around in her swivel chair. Long, blonde hair is curled, her makeup bold like Sonya’s.

Glancing around, I see that we’re alone in the dressing room. “We were told you witnessed an assault,” I say.

“We didn’t witness it. We saw the evidence left behind,” Rosy says before standing and leaning back against the vanity.

She’s in a frilly, black skirt that barely covers her crotch and a raggedy t-shirt that doesn’t match. I’m guessing the shirt will be disposed of soon.

“Can you tell us your story?” Reggie asks with an impatient tone.

“Sure,” Sonya replies. “Our good friend, Molly Pennington, was working a couple of nights ago. The three of us are roommates and in college together.

“She was paid to do a private session toward the end of our shift in one of the skybox rooms with a wealthy customer and a couple of his friends. He looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t place him.

“Anyway, she did the session and finished up right before we were leaving. She was in the dressing room only long enough to grab her things and to tell us she was going home with him.

“I can’t explain it, but I had a bad feeling about it,” Sonya says. “Molly claimed she knew of him and not to worry about her before she ran out of here.”

“So, she didn’t give either of you the guy’s name?” I ask.

Rosy shakes her head. “Nope, and then at noon yesterday, she showed up at our apartment beat to a pulp.”

“What did she say happened?” I ask as I write details in my small notepad.

“First, she said there was a wad of money in her purse. That seemed to be what she was most upset about. She said he had shoved it in her mouth while she was tied to his bed,” Rosy adds.

I scrunch my forehead as the image of a young woman in that predicament flashes in my mind.

Sonya points a finger at us. “We don’t prostitute. We never sleep with men for money. When Molly left with this guy, she thought she was going home with him because he was into her, not for hire.”

I nod. “OK, but did she say who hit her?”

“She said it was him, and no one else was with them once they went back to his place except for a couple of men she thought were bodyguards.

“All she would tell us was that he got her drunk and they messed around. Then, he told her he wanted to do some kinkier shit.”

“What kind of kinkier shit?” Reggie asks.

“She wouldn’t say. All she would tell us was that she agreed at first. Once she was tied up to his bed, she freaked and wanted out of there.

“He got pissed and beat her up. She said he was a freak and left her there all night bleeding.”

“We need to speak to her,” I say.

Rosy shakes her head no. “She won’t do it. She claimed he was powerful and threatened her life.”

I take a deep breath. “Can you describe him to me?”

Sonya begins depicting the man’s features and the couple of guys who were with him. The description matches that of Noah Sanders, so I pull out his photo.

“Is this the man she left with?”

The girls’ eyes expand. “Oh, my god, that’s him right there,” Sonya says.

“Yep, that’s definitely him. Who is he?” Rosy asks.

“I can’t disclose that at this time. I’m sorry. Here is my card. Please, convince her to meet with me. We can put her under protective custody, so he can’t touch her.”

“OK, we’ll try. She’s going to flip over us going to the cops, but we couldn’t sit by and let this guy get away with it.”

“I advice you not to share what happened with anyone else, and try to get her to talk,” I say.

“Sure, and thank you. I hope you can nail this asshole. He better never show his face in this club again. Our bouncers will throw him out on his ass.”

I simply give a slight smile and leave their dressing room. It sounds like Noah Sanders does as he pleases, and I doubt he’s going to let anyone get in the way of what he wants.

“So, what do you think?” I ask Reggie once we’re in his car.

“She has to press charges, or we can’t do shit. What is the likelihood of that happening?”

“I don’t know. It all depends on what Noah said to her.” I rub my forehead when I feel the pulsing in my temple.

“You alright?”

“I’ve got a headache.”

“And now you have to go to another job.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He pulls out of the parking lot to the Executive Club and drives toward the station.

“Please let that situation go,” he says.

“Not yet.”

“If we have to get heavily involved in a case against the Commissioner’s son, you aren’t going to be able to handle working another job.”

“A lot of people have to work two jobs. I can do it for a while.”

He doesn’t talk to me the rest of the way. I watch his hands securely grip the steering wheel, much like I watched Adrian’s do more than once.

Adrian … I can’t get that man out of my head.

Reaching over, I pat Reggie’s thigh. “Don’t be pissed. You’ve been around me long enough to know what my father means to me. I need you to understand why I’m doing this.”

Reggie’s eyes flick down to my hand that is resting on his thigh. He picks it up and lays it on mine. “I understand why, but I don’t think it’s safe to be doing it alone.”

I place my throbbing head against the window and close my eyes. Discussing this with him is pointless. He’s not going to approve of my actions.

Victoria

With only fifteen minutes to spare, I enter the locker room at Hotel Submission and rush to a restroom to change into my uniform.

My belongings are stuffed into my locker, and I hurry to a mirror to make sure I still look presentable.

A pin comes loose from my wig and hits the floor, so I lean over to pick it up. Stars flash before my eyes upon rising, so I grab the counter for a few seconds, only seeing blackness.

Shit, that hurts. Leaning my head over only created more pounding in my temples. I was in such a hurry; I didn’t have time to stop for pain reliever.

My stomach feels queasy, and it hits me all at once that I haven’t eaten a single bite today. I drank a latte this morning, after Reggie picked me up, but that’s it.

I swear Adrian has gotten me so worked up, I can’t think about anything else. It’s too late now, so I will have to wait until I can take a break to grab something.

Maybe Sebastian will let me steal a few cherries and orange slices from the bar to get me through this shift.

***

It’s eleven o’clock, and I’m exhausted. I hit the ground running when I entered the Elite lounge at five-thirty and haven’t stopped since. Two more hours and I get to leave.

Adrian is going to have to take a rain check. I’m too tired to see him. Maybe Kruse can tell him, so I can dodge a texting war.

I glance around the room, and sure enough, I see the mysterious security guy off near a corner, keeping an eye on things.

I also saw Simon once. His evident glare when we made eye contact told me he was still pissed I’m working in this area.

Sebastian refills my tray, and I deliver another round of drinks, saving Rick’s for last. He’s Mr. Crooked Smile, and the guy has barely taken his eyes off of me. I can’t imagine he’s winning at poker this evening.

He’s no Adrian Cassano, but the man is attractive. His table is between games when I set his glass of bourbon down.

He’s talking to the gentleman next to him, so I start to walk away. Feeling a hand lightly wrap around my wrist, I stop.

Rick is smiling and bending his finger when I turn, signaling me to come closer. He’s been nothing but polite since I met him, so I lean my ear down to his mouth.

“You might want to wait for me to ask for my drinks. You’re going to spoil me or get me drunk.”

Unsure of how to take his remark, I pull back enough to see his sexy grin. His hand slides from my wrist to my forearm, and he brings me in close again.

I’m bent over, my rack on display for the entire table of men, so I pull my tray up to my chest.

“Thank you for the drink, and I wanted to tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman in this room,” he adds. I move away only a little and smile at him.

His ocean sand eyes search mine for a reaction, and maybe this guy could give me some insight into what goes on between the servers and men in this room.

“Thank you. That’s flattering.” Warm fingers skim along the inside of my arm, his eyes locked on mine.

Having had all the excitement I can handle for one night, I stand upright before this man has a chance to ask me to go home with him.

Oh, shit
. The room spins, and I can’t focus, seeing only spots of color …