The VIP Room (12 page)

S
am drove
us to the pool hall in silence, the whole time looking like he’d swallowed a toad. I didn’t get what the big deal was. For one thing, I wasn’t dressed to attract guys. I was wearing a knit top and jeans. Okay, the heels were sexy, and the top showed a little cleavage, but only a little. It was tasteful cleavage, not prowling-for-a-man cleavage. Same for the shoes. They were awesome, but I could have worn them to work with the right suit. Sam was either trying to flatter me, or he had a warped sense of what other men would find hot.

As we traveled through the streets of Vegas, we left the areas I knew and ventured into a darker side of town. Literally. Here every third streetlight was out, and more than a few of the stores were closed down. What had Nolan been doing on this side of the city? This was Vegas. If he’d wanted to play pool there were plenty of places closer to our apartment.

Finally, we pulled into a strip mall and parked in front of a building with a flickering neon sign over the door reading “Balls a d St cks”. This must be it. I couldn’t get an impression of what the place was like because the street facing windows had been covered with dark plastic from the inside. I was suddenly very glad I didn’t have to open the door and go in by myself.

Sam did the job for me, wrapping his arm tightly around my shoulders as he ushered me inside. Subtly, so no one would notice, he whispered in my ear, “Do not leave my side, Chloe. Understand me?”

I nodded. I’d been fighting with him all day, but now that we were here, I had no intention of arguing. We went to the bar where Sam ordered us two domestic beers in bottles, exchanging a few words with the bartender. I hated domestic beer, but it didn’t look like there was any other option. I knew better than to ask for wine.

The pool hall didn’t look anything like I’d imagined. I didn’t really know what to expect, but I’d had a picture in my head of the pool table we’d had growing up, with its dark green felt and polished wooden frame. More of those and maybe someplace for people to sit, some couches and chairs.

Balls and Sticks was nothing like that. A dank, acrid haze of smoke hung in the air. The tables were made of plastic and metal, the felt damaged and uneven. The cues looked ancient and warped. The floor was concrete, cracked in places, and far from clean. Light years from clean.

A few people were sitting at the bar, and here and there along the far wall there were stools pulled up to ledges for bottles of beer and ash trays. But mostly, men were standing, playing pool or watching others play pool. There were a few women, but none of them looked like me. I saw one who had bleached blond hair with inches of dark roots, a cigarette handing out of her mouth and an orangey spray tan. In the back, a woman was wrapped around a man, whispering in his ear while he slipped his hand up her shirt. I looked away.

Balls and Sticks was definitely a guy’s pool hall. And a lot of them were staring at me. I still didn’t get it. The other women here were showing a lot more skin. Nervous, and inwardly cursing my brother for getting me into this in the first place, I turned to lean into Sam, tucking my head into his shoulder.

“Now what?” I asked. He wrapped his free arm tightly around me and said in a low voice,

“What do you mean? I thought you had a plan, honey.”

“Sam,” I said, willing to admit I was in over my head. “Seriously, how do we find Feliks?”

I knew he was laughing at me after the way I’d insisted we come here and now was hiding in his chest, asking for help. But I wasn’t the most outgoing woman, and while the idea of coming in here and demanding to see Feliks had seemed like a good plan in my head, now that I was faced with a room full of strange men who all seemed to be staring at my breasts, I was terrified. Shit.

Sam held me tighter and whispered, “The plan is that you drink your beer. We’ve got the next open table, and I asked about Feliks.”

“When?” I stared up at him.

“When I got our beers.”

“Is he here?”

“The bartender didn’t say. We’ll hang out for a while and if he doesn’t show, we go home.”

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t crazy about that plan. It seemed too passive. But I wasn’t going to leave Sam’s side to interrogate every man in the place, so I was stuck with it. I knew I was being a wimp, but most of these guys were creepy. There was a lot of long stringy hair, too many missing teeth, and way too many leering gazes for me to feel good about wandering around by myself. Not that Sam would let me. His arm around me gave no question as to whom I belonged.

Our beers were almost empty when a short, skinny man sidled up beside Sam and asked “you look for Feliks?” He had a low, accented voice that sounded too deep to belong to such a narrow body. Sam nodded once and waited. The man’s eyes moved to me and he said,

“So, here I am. Who is asking?”

“Do you know Nolan Henson?” I asked. Feliks’s eyes narrowed.

“Maybe. Who is asking?”

“I’m his sister. He’s missing and-”

“Yeah, I know he’s missing,” Feliks said, the words choking out on a laugh. “Missing or running is what they say.”

“Tell us what you know,” Sam said, cutting in.

“For what?”

“Some of this, if what you have is any good,” Sam said.

Feliks’s eyes fell to Sam’s hand and gleamed at the sight of folded bills. Sam was so much better at this getting-information-stuff than I was. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I’d need money. Again, I cursed my brother for putting me here in the first place.

“I’ll talk to you. For that.” Feliks shot his eyes to the money in Sam’s hand. “But only if she plays with me.”

Sam’s eyes went dangerously hard, and the man back peddled. “Pool. She plays a game of pool.”

A shot of icy adrenaline tinged fear went through me. He wanted to play me at pool? Here? I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to move from the safety of Sam’s arms and go out in the middle of the room with all these men watching and play pool against this creepy guy who might know where my brother was.

But I
could
do it. I was good at pool. Really good. I’d grown up playing all the time at home. It was one of the few things my father would do with us, so Nolan and I both played a lot in the hopes that he would join in and notice that we were there.

The worst thing that could happen was that I’d lose and we'd know what we knew now. Nothing. But if I won… Before Sam could open his mouth to answer, I said, “I’m in.”

M
y heart stopped
for a second when Chloe said yes. It took everything I had to stop myself from dragging her out of the place. But if I did she’d never forgive me. And the table that was opening up for us was close to the door. If the Russian guy had tried to lead us deeper into the pool hall, I might have dragged her out anyway. More than half the men in there were armed and most of them were looking at her like she was fresh meat and they were starving.

Chloe was the best looking women in that room by far. Probably the hottest woman who’s ever crossed the threshold. As I walked her to the table, I kissed her temple and said “be careful.”

I was assuming she knew how to play pool. Feliks was counting on her desperation to find her brother to goad her into playing, but I knew her. She’d answered with too much confidence for a woman who’d been scared shitless a few minutes ago. My Chloe was going to clean the floor with this guy. Then we could find out what he knew about Nolan, and we’d get the hell out of there.

I didn’t have any question in my mind why Feliks would want to kill some time playing pool with Chloe. For one thing, he probably thought it would be funny to mess with her, to take advantage of her clear concern over Nolan and watch her squirm in the hopes that he had useful information, which I doubted.

But that was only part of it. The real answer was that no man, unless he was gay, would pass on the chance to see Chloe bent over a pool table. Either way, I already knew the view would be a killer. Between those tight jeans and the scoop neck shirt, the whole place was about to get a show.

I gritted my teeth and reminded myself that she wanted to do this. She hadn’t missed the looks she was getting. She had to know she would draw attention, and I knew it wasn’t attention she wanted. Yet she’d jumped to say yes in the hopes she’d find out something useful about Nolan. I was going to back her up even if it killed me.

No one would get to touch her. I knew that. More importantly, she knew that. I didn’t have any definite plans to shoot anyone, but my gun was loaded, and if we got into trouble I’d have no problem using it. But I doubted it would come to that. Watching Chloe select a cue stick, her eyes assessing and knowledgeable, I didn’t think the game was going to last long.

I was right. Chloe shyly offered to let Felix break, then took over the table. It was almost worth enduring the greedy leers of the crowd to watch my sweet, beautiful girl destroy the weaselly little Russian.

His break was pathetic, leaving half the balls clumped at the far and of the table. Without comment, without even looking at Feliks, she walked around the table, surveying the placement of the balls. Then she struck, leaning over to sink the first ball, a stripe, with an efficient, direct stroke of the cue. It was almost as beautiful as the sight of her top gaping down to display her breasts, creamy and lush, spilling out of the black lace bra she wore.

My dick went rock hard so fast my head spun. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I planted my feet on the concrete floor and glared at every other man in the pool hall, aware I couldn’t kill them for staring at her breasts. And I couldn’t force her to leave. She had to do this, and I had to let her. I reminded myself of that about fifty times between her first shot and her second.

In the minute since Chloe had bent over the table the two nearest games had stopped, the players coming over to watch Chloe and Feliks. My glare intensified until I was surprised laser beams weren’t shooting from my eyes.

She rounded the table to stand in front of me and bent over to take her third shot. The sight of her gorgeous ass in those tight jeans almost made me groan. I had a very brief fantasy of fucking her over the pool table at my house before I dragged my attention back to the room.

Her job was to play the game so we could talk to Feliks and then leave. My job was to keep her safe. Thinking with my dick was not going to keep her safe. I could imagine all the ways I was going to fuck her later. Resolved, I kept my eyes off her lush body and kept them on the room.

The other men stayed back. They must have sensed that I was on a hair trigger. It was early, and the crowd wasn’t drunk enough to ignore their danger. Or they were struck dumb by the beauty of Chloe running a pool table. She missed her fourth shot after leaning over at a side angle that sent her shirt sliding off one smooth, golden shoulder.

I swore again silently, trying to watch the room without registering the hungry eyes of her observers. Feliks sank two balls and missed a third, but she got her fifth and a very tricky bank shot on the sixth before the Russian got his turn again. The sight of her was murder. Those spike heels, her curvy legs, her perfect round ass. When she planted her feet and spread her legs to shoulder width as she bent over to shoot, I shuddered. I was in hell and she had no idea what she was doing.

Finally, after Feliks sank one more and missed the next, Chloe finished the game, sinking the eight ball on a bank shot that was so precise and cleanly executed I almost wanted to cry.

When the game was done there were a few calls for next game, but Chloe cut them off herself, sending the room her shy smile and saying, “Sorry, that was a one-time thing. But thanks.”

Only Chloe could send a bunch of rough guys off with little more than a smile. I think they were all so confused by what a girl like her was doing there in the first place, no one thought to push her. That or they were very sure I’d shoot them if they did. The sweet drained from her face as she turned to pin Feliks to the wall with a glare of her own.

“Okay. We played. Now tell me where my brother is,” she demanded.

“Hey, hey,” Feliks said, backing up a few steps and raising his hands in front of him. “Keep your voice quiet. I don’t want to talk to the whole room.”

“Fine,” she said in a lower tone. “Where is Nolan?”

“I don’t know where Nolan is. I can only tell you what he’s been doing.”

“And?” I cut in, getting pissed at this guy. He’d gotten what he’d wanted. Now it was Chloe’s turn. “Spill it so we can go.”

Ignoring me, Feliks looked at Chloe and said “you brother, he used to play some pool with me. I found out what he did, and I hooked him up with my cousin for some work.”

“What kind of work?” Chloe asked. Feliks shrugged and mimed typing on a keyboard.

“Hacking stuff,” he said. “I don’t know what it was. Sergey put him to work.”

“Sergey?” I asked, my gut turning to lead. What were the odds this was another Sergey? I’d never been a big believer in coincidence. Feliks’s eyes sharpened on my face and I realized that most of his attitude had been an act. He was far sharper than he looked. In a voice so quiet I had to strain to hear, he said,

“Her brother is smart. And not so smart. Like the sister. She should stay home and let the brother find himself. Lot of people looking for him. All bad. Word is, he stole from my cousin.”

“Did he?” I asked. Feliks shrugged as if he didn’t care or didn’t know. “Sergey looking for him, too. A pretty woman should stay home. Out of the way.”

He raised his grizzled eyebrows, asking me if I understood. I did. We were getting the fuck out of there, and I was going to do my best to convince Chloe to leave the rest of this in Axel’s hands. If Nolan was working for Tsepov, I wanted Chloe nowhere near him.

S
am’s jaw
was tight as he drove back to his house. He looked pissed off and I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me, Nolan, both of us, or the whole situation. Probably the last. I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to worry about it, that I appreciated his help, but I could handle this on my own. I wasn’t stupid. I could imagine what might have happened if I’d walked into Balls and Sticks alone. I needed Sam’s help.

“Who is Sergey?” I asked, needing to know. Sam had reacted to the name as if it had meant something to him.

“I’m guessing it’s Tsepov.”

“The Russian mob guy? The one with the poker room where Tim said Nolan was playing?”

“Yes.” Sam flicked his eyes to me. In the dark, they gleamed a hard, deep blue. “And no. You are not going anywhere near that poker room or Tsepov. I’ll call Axel when I get home and see what he’s got. But you’re staying out of this.”

“Sam, I think-” He cut me off before I could say anything else.

“No. Just no. I get that you need to help find your brother. But if Nolan loves you anywhere near as much as you love him, do you really think he wants you getting tangled up with the Russian mob?”

“No,” I said. Then, in a small voice, I admitted, “If he was really thinking of me at all, he wouldn’t have gotten involved with them, either.”

Sam took my hand and squeezed. It was no more than he’d been trying to point out for a while. Nolan lived with me. If he’d been across town, or in another city, things would have been different. But when we shared an address, anything he brought home was tied to me. He’d put me in danger. And for what? Why? With a sigh, I looked out the window and let my thoughts drift. I wanted a break, just for a little while. I didn’t want to think about Nolan. I didn’t want to worry.

Sam parked the car in the garage and came around to help me out. Like he had the day before, instead of giving me his hand, he slid his arm around my back and lifted me out, pressing my body into his. At the impact of his hard chest, my nipples beaded into points and I let out a tiny gasp. I wasn’t a small woman, but Sam was so big next to me, tall and all muscle.

I tried not to whimper as he lowered me, scraping my nipples against his chest, the impact barely dulled by our clothes. Just before my feet touched the concrete, he swore and lifted me again, raising me to waist height. My legs instinctively locked around his waist in a tight clasp, holding him to my body.

With a groan, he pressed me into the side of his truck as his mouth came down on mine. My sensible side was nowhere to be found. I opened for him, my lips warming under his, my tongue reaching into his mouth. His kiss stole my breath away as I fell into it, sinking my hands into his hair and gripping tight to keep him exactly where he was.

Sam’s hips pinned me to the side of the truck, and I felt the hard length of his cock pressing through layers of denim to tease me. I couldn’t help but rock my hips into the delicious friction. When his hand snaked under my shirt to splay across my back, I shivered from the heat and strength in his fingers. A twist of those fingers on the clasp of my bra and the band fell loose.

He didn’t hesitate in leaning me forward to get to my breasts, and I was too far gone to stop him. His hands now more frantic than practiced, he leaned me back into the truck and pushed my shirt up, dragging my bra with it, until my breasts were exposed in the dimly lit garage.

“Fuck, Chloe. I swear you’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen,” he groaned. I might have doubted him, but the look in his eyes, the hunger and rapt devotion convinced me that, whatever I thought, Sam loved my breasts. Before I could think about what he was doing, he dropped his mouth to one nipple and sucked.

My head fell back with the shock of hot pleasure, thunking against the truck’s frame. I moaned and arched my back, offering him more. With the press of his hips and the clasp of my legs holding me up, Sam had both hands free, and he used them. Strong fingers closed over my breast, plumping it, feeding my nipple into his mouth as he sucked harder, then shifted his head to feast on the other side.

I rocked against him, the pressure between my legs sending me higher, flooding my body with more pleasure than I’d ever felt from a man, more than I’d dreamed in those times I’d slid my own fingers between my legs and imagined what it would be like with Sam.

“Sam,” I moaned, as his fingers closed over one nipple and he tongued the other. “Sam, please. Please.”

I didn’t even know what I was asking for. Not really. But the promise of his mouth on my breasts was shredding my intentions. All my protests about a relationship with Sam had drifted away, dispersed by this dizzying pleasure and the reality of being touched, not by a man, but by Sam.

Who knows how far it would have gone if his phone hadn’t begun to ring. At first we ignored it, too lost in our desire for one another to care about the insistent beeping in Sam’s pocket. When the phone fell silent and then began to sound again, Sam groaned and pulled away, drawing a moan of disappointment from between my lips.

Still, he ignored the phone, gently pulling down my shirt, his eyes not meeting mine. He answered the phone, his arm around my shoulders firmly leading me past the hood of the truck and into the back hall of the house.

“What do you have?” A pause. “I’ll call you back when I’m in my office. Give me a minute.”

Sam walked me to his bedroom door and stopped. His eyes touched on mine, then skated away, their normally vibrant blue dark and shadowed.

“Chloe,” he said and stopped. “I-”

“Sam, it’s-”

“No,” he said, interrupting. “Don’t tell me it’s okay. I promised you I wasn’t going to push you. Or take advantage. And I’m not. I won’t. I’m not going to change your mind like this. I’m sorry. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Without letting me say a word, he left, walking across the hall to his office and closing the door behind him. Deflated, and a little confused, I went into his room and did the same. Leaning back into the heavy door, I stared at Sam’s room with blind eyes. It looked wrong without him in it.

Something deep in my heart hummed at the thought. He should be here with me. This was wrong. My protests, though they’d been well intentioned, were wrong. I shook my head, trying to drive the idea away. It wasn’t the time to think about Sam. Not while Nolan was still missing and the rest of my life was upside down. I was under too much stress to consider making a choice that could ruin my life.

With nothing else to do, I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I’d taken one that morning, but the stale scent of cigarette smoke clung to my skin. Skin that still hummed from the arousal Sam’s kiss had begun. It looked like I wasn’t going to see how much better it could get. At least not any time soon. Resigned to a night alone, I climbed in the shower to clean up before I tried to sleep. Perversely, I used Sam’s body wash/shampoo instead of my own soap, wanting to smell him on my skin if I couldn’t feel his touch.

I brushed my teeth and dried my hair without thinking about it, my mind turning over the past day, trying to fit together the pieces of what was going on, both with Nolan and between Sam and myself. So much was changing, so much unknown. I felt adrift. And I wanted Sam.

Crawling into bed, I tried to sleep. My mind and my body refused. My body was still wound up, tense from worry and unfulfilled desire. My mind refused to settle, insisting over and over, no matter how I tried to work around it, that I needed to be with Sam. I couldn’t tell if I was trying to talk myself into it because my body desperately wanted the orgasm that had been hovering out of reach as he’d sucked my nipples, or if I truly had moved past my fear of a relationship with him.

None of my concerns had changed. If he decided to move on, I’d lose my best friend, my job, and my heart. It was too much to risk. But if it worked, every dream I’d ever had would come true.

With a frustrated growl, I turned over and punched my pillow. I’d chosen one of the nightgowns Lola had sent over, a mid-thigh length cream silk trimmed in pink lace. It was soft and silky on my skin, the slide of the fabric as I moved only reminding me that I was alone when I should be with Sam.

This was why I’d insisted he not try to seduce me. He was as bad as that piece of chocolate cake I saw at the bakery and ended up buying. I knew I shouldn’t have it, but one look, one memory of how good it was, and I convinced myself I needed it. Except that Sam was so much better than the best chocolate cake I’d ever had. And that was saying something. I loved chocolate cake.

Eventually, I broke. Had he known this would happen? That once he got his hands on me I’d lose the ability to say no? I shoved the covers back and got out of bed, storming for the door, so frustrated and annoyed I wasn’t sure if I planned to jump on Sam or yell at him.

I didn’t get the chance to do either. When I swung open the door to his office, it was empty. A quick search of the rest of the house showed the same. Sam was gone.