Page 25 of King of Desire (Kings of Las Vegas #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Triston

It takes a couple of hours before Darius arrives and we get him settled in, but as we climb into bed, Honeyeh stretched out against me, my arm wrapped tight around her, I’m not the least bit tired.

She feels amazing, all soft and warm as she settles into my side. My cock is stiff in a second.

I cannot fuck her again, her body needs to recover. But it’s like I’m sixteen and I can’t get enough.

I settle my hand under her shirt, into the curve of her back, her skin so silky smooth under my palm and fingertips.

If I’d been thinking clearly, my first move would have been to bring Darius here. But despite the need still pulsing through me, a few things have become clear. Honeyeh is mine to protect.

It should have been obvious before now. I’ve never rushed in to save a woman before, jeopardizing my business. Even the very first move, hiring her, was out of character.

But I honestly thought once I’d had Honeyeh, these feelings of possession and protection would fade.

But it’s been exactly the opposite. It’s like she tied me even tighter to her side. I squeeze her as she sleeps, brushing my lips against her temple.

“Triston,” she sighs, nuzzling deeper.

Saying my name while she sleeps makes me diamond-hard as I slide my hand down to cup her ass, a little pair of panties the only thing between my hand and her skin.

I’ve got to get some sleep. Tomorrow I’m going to have to speak with Mason.

He’s part of this plan and I need his blessing for whatever I do.

I’m also going to have to meet with all my brothers at once and get all of us Kincaids and Smiths on the same page.

I’ve likely compromised our family goals, and even my eldest brother, Win, is going to have to hear about this one.

Which is unfortunate. Win mostly stays out of daily operations, which I appreciate. We don’t always work well together. As a duke, he assumes he is in command of…everything. And while that is true of the family holdings in England, this company, our success, it’s mine.

I close my eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. But my body doesn’t want to sleep. I’m all kinds of amped up with Honeyeh in my arms and I’m in hyper-protective mode. Like I need to stay awake to make sure no danger comes anywhere near her.

Her hand splays out on my bare chest, her curtain of dark hair spread out on my pillow.

I take several deep breaths and slowly relax, finally falling asleep. But it feels like barely any time has passed when the loud jangling of my phone wakes me.

I open my eyes, blinking twice before it rings again. I pick it up, Mason’s name flashing across the screen.

And so the day begins.

Honeyeh picks up her head too, her brow furrowing.

“Hello,” I say as I pick up the phone, my eyes closing again.

“What the fuck were you doing in Dimitri’s brothel?” Mason shouts into the phone, Honeyeh crying out at the words.

I’m up in a second, not at all happy at the jarring interruption to what could have been a pleasant morning. I owe Mason an accounting of events, but I don’t answer to him.

“Hang on,” I rumble into the phone as Mason starts yelling again. Pulling it from my ear, I hang up. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” I lean over, kissing Honeyeh, before I straighten again.

She pushes up, her loose waves tumbling down her back. “But he’s upset with you because of me.”

I kiss her again. “I can handle Mason. You need some more sleep, it’s too early for you to be up.”

The phone starts ringing again, but I ignore it as I pull on athletic pants, not answering until I’m in the hall. “Mason.”

“Who did I just hear?”

I pause, deciding what I might say. “You asked why I was at Dimitri’s brothel.”

“It was Honeyeh, wasn’t it?”

I blow out a breath. “Why are you calling me before six if you’re not going to listen?”

“I’m listening,” he rumbles. “I knew you were interested when you brought her as your date to the benefit. If you hurt her, Triston, you will answer to me.”

I’m glad that Honeyeh’s health and safety trumps my trip to the whorehouse. Mason doesn’t realize they’re of the same piece, but knowing his priorities helps me to have this conversation from the right angle. “I have no intention of hurting her, as I’ve stated several times.”

“Making her your flavor of the month is the definition of hurting her.”

I had that coming. But the idea of Honeyeh being like the rest of those women makes me bristle. “Flavors of the month do not sleep in my bed, nor do I rush off to whorehouses to rescue them when they’ve stepped in over their heads.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.” He spits into the phone.

“Look on Dimitri’s website.” I jog down the stairs, firing up my espresso maker, listening to Mason click several buttons.

“What the fuck?”

I sigh. “Dr. Lawrence had a possible liver, but he needed a substantial down payment before he’d perform the surgery.”

“Keep explaining.”

In clipped tones I tell him about Brittany and her offer. “The funny thing is, she’s an average blonde at best, and not at all the type Dimitri usually hires.”

“You said she met Honeyeh at Killian’s wedding? She could be a plant.”

My thought too. I tell him about how she came to the party with Chairman Waltham. He rumbles, “Waltham is in Dimitri’s pocket. It’s those kinds of connections that make him so fucking hard to remove from Vegas.”

I take a sip of my espresso shot. “Listen, Mason. I think it’s time we face the facts.

Things are going to escalate with Dimitri.

We’re likely to end up with a lot of blood on our hands like we did with the Vendettis.

” The last year was a bloody war with the Italian Mafia.

It’s why the meeting at the benefit with the Andrianis was so important.

But we just put that conflict to rest, I’m not entering another one with him.

“I’m trying to remove Dimitri legally,” Mason fires back.

“I know, but he’s Bratva. And Killian has threatened his family. He’s going to strike back and it’s not going to be legal and then what’s our move?”

He lets out another breath. “Charlotte’s pregnant.”

“What?”

“Early.” I hear the worry in Mason’s voice. “But I’d like to avoid violence.”

“Then you might have to cut a deal with Dimitri.”

“No,” Mason says, his voice hard enough to cut glass. “He attacked me once. Letting him stay in Vegas gives him the chance to hurt us again.”

“Then you have to cut the head off the snake,” I say, but I don’t like it.

“Killian can…”

“No.” I straighten. “He’s out of that game. My brother is not the man who does this deed.”

“It’s his job.”

“His job is intel. Which he has provided in abundance.” If Mason wants to start a war, I won’t compromise, but that is on him and his family. I will be his partner in real estate, but not in blood feuds. I’m drawing a line and money can be damned.

Mason rumbles. “You started this when you walked into that brothel yesterday.”

“That’s bullshit. This day was coming after you pulled his tunnel access and he?—”

“He made a deal with the Italians, bombed Temptation.” Mason is practically yelling again.

“Make your choice, Mason. But my job is to keep my family safe first, and I won’t cross to the other side with you.”

“You’re the one who said we need to cut the head off the snake.”

“Because you refuse to cut a deal,” I fire back. I respect Mason. But I’m not afraid of him. And I won’t be cowed into a move I don’t want to make.

He lets out a frustrated growl. “What’s gotten into you?”

I think the issue might be what I got into. Honeyeh. My moves are shifting from growth to protection. “I want to get back to work.”

“You just completed a takeover,” he says.

“And there is more to be done. But it can’t be accomplished with Dimitri hanging a sword over our heads.” I finish my espresso and start another as I hear the soft pad of feet across the floor.

Honeyeh appears, still in my T-shirt, her hair mussed and her eyes sleepy. Her skin glows in the morning light, and I reach out a hand.

“Fair. I’ll make a decision today and let you know tomorrow.”

“Darius has an appointment tomorrow morning with Dr. Lawrence. I’ll be accompanying Honeyeh to discuss any financial needs and all treatment options that have yet to be explored.”

“Triston.” Mason sounds curious now.

But Honeyeh has slipped her hand into mine and I pull her close. My espresso finishes and I tuck the phone between my shoulder and ear as I pull the cup out of the machine and hand it to Honeyeh.

She takes the cup, takes a sip and wrinkles her nose.

I can’t help it. I chuckle.

“Triston?” Mason asks again. But I let go of Honeyeh to get some milk to froth.

“Early morning or after lunch, Mason. I look forward to your decision.” And then I hang up. Tossing my phone on the counter, I grab some milk and pour it into the milk frother.

Turning it on, I pull her close again. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I couldn’t fall back to sleep,” she murmurs as her arms wind around my neck. She’s so soft and she smells amazing as I bury my nose into her hair.

I slide my hands down her back as I wrap my hands around her ass. “Sore today, sweetheart?”

“Only a little,” she murmurs close to my ear.

Satisfaction has me rubbing my stubbled chin over the silk of her hair. That means I’m going to be inside her again very soon.

The frother finishes and I pour the milk and then the shot of espresso into a mug. “Sugar?”

She shakes her head. “This is perfect. After I’m done, I’ll unpack my stuff?”

“Good idea. Use the other half of my closet.”

She takes a sip of her coffee, half turning away. “You’re sure you don’t want me to unpack my things in one of the guestrooms?”

I’m fucking sure. I fire up the espresso maker again. “Are you worried about your brother?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m concerned about wearing out my welcome.”

It hits me square in the chest. I don’t think that’s happening. If I have my way, Honeyeh is staying for a while. I pull her close. “Put your things in my closet and your toothbrush in the holder. You sleep on the right. Away from the door.”

Her brows lift, but I see her smile into her next sip of cappuccino.

My girl likes it when I tell her what to do. I love that about Honeyeh. And I’ve got a few more situations in mind where I’m going to get bossy.