Page 24

24

MADDOX

Four forty-five p.m. I haven’t heard back from Alissa.

Did she not see my note? Does she think I ditched her?

I left it by the coffeemaker… But fuck. She’s British. She probably has tea in the morning.

But then why would she even have a coffeemaker?

Maybe for guests.

I rub at my temples, trying to soothe the troubling thoughts ping-ponging through my brain.

Her phone was dead, though, and I don’t think I saw her plug it in once we got to her place. And she certainly was otherwise occupied once we started making love.

Making love?

We fucked. Had sex. Did the nasty.

I don’t think I’ve referred to the act, even internally, as “making love” since…

Since Laurie. Fuck.

I’ve got it bad for this woman.

I shake the thoughts out of my head. She didn’t plug in her phone, so she wouldn’t have been able to text me back, assuming she did see my note. She probably has a shift at the hospital today, and even if she plugged her phone in once she arrived, she’d likely still need to be focusing on her duties.

I’ll start closing up the shop. I’ve had a few customers in today, and normally I like to stay open until six in case someone pops in on their way home from work, but I only got a few hours of sleep last night, and I’m exhausted.

I cross to the windows, preparing to draw the curtains when my phone dings.

I walk back to the counter and pick it up.

It’s from Alissa. My heart soars.

God, Hathaway, get a grip.

I unlock my phone and read the message.

Hey—sorry I’m just now texting you. Busy day at work. Can I come over to your place?

My dick hardens. Does she want to fuck again?

Suddenly I’m not feeling so tired.

I quickly text back,

Yeah, of course. I’m just closing the shop. You nearby?

Yes. I was able to take off early. My friend Dinah is covering for me.

Great. Just come in the shop when you get here.

She responds with a thumbs-up emoji.

A little businesslike, so I send a kissing emoji back to her.

No response.

She’s probably on the L. Even when it’s above the ground, cell service can be spotty.

I continue closing. I won’t draw the curtains quite yet because I don’t want her to think it’s closed when she arrives. Instead, I’ll count the cash in the register and put the day’s profits into my safe.

A lot of people who come here pay in cash instead of credit cards—I guess I attract a more old-fashioned demographic—so I have a decent amount to get through.

I hear the bell attached to my front door ring, and I look up.

Alissa is standing there, dusting her jacket off. She waves a mittened hand at me, but she’s not smiling.

I cross over to her and take her coat.

“Cold out there?”

She rolls her eyes. “No. It’s a balmy seventy degrees, quite temperate, as is often the case in Chicago in the dead of winter.”

I chuckle. “I see you’re in a playful mood.”

She frowns. “Hardly.” She lets her hair out of the messy bun on top of her head and twirls it around her finger. “I actually was just at the club.”

I drop my jaw. “You were?”

She nods. “Remember last night? I opened a tab, gave my credit card to DeeDee and Dudley. I left in such a hurry, and after that band of goons descended on me, I forgot about it completely.”

“But how did you get in?” I check my watch. “They’re not even open yet. And you’re not a member—even if they did let you in, it would have to be as someone’s guest.”

My heart twists. Did she find another member and ask him to take her in with him? Most of the men at Aces aren’t gentlemen like I am. They’ll expect something in return. Something involving Alissa minus her clothes.

She shrugs. “Chet let me in.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Chet?”

But in a way, that doesn’t surprise me. Chet loves to stir the pot, push the envelope, see how much he can get away with. Honestly, I’m not sure why Rouge keeps him around. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard of him breaking her hard-and-fast rules.

“But how I got in isn’t the point, Maddox. I met with May?—”

“May?”

“The server girl. The seven of spades.”

“Oh.” I scratch my head. “How did you find out her real name?”

“She told me.”

I widen my eyes. “But they’re not allowed to speak.”

Alissa reaches into her purse and grabs a tiny blue piece of paper. “She slipped this to me last night. It’s Vietnamese—my friend Dinah helped me translate it. It’s a message asking for help.”

“What?”

“Exactly. So while I was in the club, I took her aside into one of those private rooms and asked her about it. She doesn’t speak very good English, but?—”

“Holy shit, Alissa. You’re not supposed to go into those rooms.” I rub at my forehead. “Christ, I could have my membership revoked.”

“Seriously?” She shakes her head. “Your precious membership is the least of your worries, Maddox. May told me she was scared, that she had a friend in the club, Svetlana, who worked there until recently. I guess she disappeared into thin air after working at the club for five years.”

“Five years is the usual amount of time that servers work at the club.”

“Sure, maybe she just left. But May told me they made plans to hang out on their days off, but that she couldn’t get in touch with Svetlana after she left.”

I close my eyes. I’m trying to think of who Svetlana could be. It’s a Russian name, so she’s probably a fair-skinned woman. And in my mind’s eye I see her. A tall woman with flowing blonde hair. The Nine of Diamonds. She would bring me drinks while I played blackjack. She stopped working at the club a few weeks ago. I figured she’d moved on to a new job. A lot of servers at Aces owe a debt to Rouge for bringing them over.

“It’s possible she just left.”

“May seemed very upset that she hadn’t contacted her.”

I open my mouth to say something to quell Alissa’s concerns, but then I think back to the day of my father’s funeral. I got the Rolls-Royce and his club membership.

Getting a car when your dad dies is normal. Getting a club membership isn’t.

I knew that he went somewhere on Friday evenings. He’d kiss my mom and say, “I’m off to the club.”

I asked Mom once what the club was. She told me that she didn’t know, just that it was a place Dad went to grab a drink and socialize with his friends from work.

When I received the club membership, I was confused. Dad was so upset about my decision not to follow in his footsteps, so why would he leave me this?

Maybe he just wanted to keep the membership in the family. And I, his sole heir, was the only means of doing that.

Or maybe… Maybe there was another reason.

I keep thinking back to the legislation he passed in the last year of his final term as mayor. Massively unpopular moves that sent his approval ratings into a nosedive.

No one understood why he did it. His advisors begged him not to, but he was insistent.

People lost their jobs, their homes. I would see my dad’s face on posters all over windows, a big red X over his grinning mug.

People didn’t understand why he did what he did, and I don’t understand why he left me the membership at Aces.

Could there be a connection?

And could it have something to do with Seven’s—sorry, May’s —missing friend?

Or are these all random events, small dots that I’m connecting haphazardly?

“Tell you what,” I say, looking at my watch again. “The club will be open tonight in a few hours. How about we go again, and we can check things out discreetly? See if there’s something out of the ordinary?”

She bites her lip. “Okay.”

“Great.” I wrap my arm around her waist. “Is that the reason you wanted to come over?”

“Yeah, of course.”

I smile at her and pull her close. “No ulterior motive? You weren’t hoping to get another shot at me?”

She scoffs. “No, but”—she wiggles her eyebrows—“I mean… I’m not against another shot at you.”

“We have a few hours to burn.” I jerk my head toward the back of the shop, where the staircase to my apartment is located. “Care to join me in my suite?”

She swallows. “No, Maddox.”

Disappointment surges through me. “I thought you said you weren’t against the idea.”

She shakes her head. “No, I mean, not there. I want you right now, right here. In your shop.”

My heartbeat quickens, and my dick starts throbbing underneath my slacks. “The shop is still technically open for another fifteen minutes, Alissa.”

She gazes at me, her eyes impish. “Sounds dangerous, doesn’t it?”

“Fuck.” I glance over at the curtains, which are half shut. People rarely come into the shop this late in the day, especially on a Sunday. It’s cold outside, so passersby aren’t likely.

And Alissa is right. It is dangerous.

And Mad Maddox likes dangerous.

I lower my gaze to her breasts. “Get your fucking clothes off right now.”

She grins. Her coat is already off, and all she’s wearing is light-blue scrubs from the hospital. And God, she looks sexier than most women do in the most lavish fashions. She pulls the top over her head and tosses it on the floor. She kicks off her shoes, slides the pants over her hips, and steps out of them. She’s in a sensible white bra and panties, and—again—it’s hotter than the skimpiest lingerie.

I cup her tits, thumb her hard nipples through her bra.

“Do you want me?” she asks.

“More than anything, Alissa.” I stare at her. “But I believe I told you to get all your clothes off. You still have a few things to go.”

She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting her gorgeous tits fall free. Her nipples could cut diamonds, they’re so hard. I run a finger over them, making her shudder.

But she’s not moving fast enough for Mad Maddox.

In one swift move, I grab her panties and rip them off her body, exposing her beautiful pussy.

She stands naked in my shop looking luscious, but…something is missing.

“One sec.” I cross to the hat display. I find a black fedora in her size and fit it snugly over her head.

Now she’s naked and wearing one of my hats.

Fuck.

I grab her and crush my lips to hers. She opens for me immediately, and I explore every corner of her mouth. God, this kiss. An electric charge pulses through my body, hitting my heart and my cock. I slide one hand down her soft body and between her legs.

She moans as I work her pussy.

Fuck. Too many clothes. My hands are occupied, but Alissa reads my mind. She unbuttons my shirt and caresses my chest. With her other hand, she grabs at my bulge.

I suck in a breath.

A second later she’s unbuckling my belt, whipping it off and throwing it across the shop. She nearly hits a display of ties, but I don’t fucking care.

She unbuttons my jeans and unzips my fly, leaving my boxer briefs the only layer between my aching cock and the bliss of her mouth.

Until—

Ding!

I widen my eyes. The door is unlocked. Someone is coming in.

Fuck, fuck, fuck .

“Behind the counter,” I hiss into Alissa’s ear.

She quickly scoots, crouching to hide. I quickly button my pants and gather her discarded items of clothing—including the ribbons of what used to be her panties—and toss them into an antique wicker basket I keep by the gramophone. I look up to see one of my regulars—a middle-aged man named Mr. Liddell—has walked in and is browsing a selection of tweed jackets in the rear of the store.

I swallow, adjusting myself under my pants discreetly. “Mr. Liddell. Good to see you again.”

“Maddox, always a pleasure.”

“What can I help you with today?”

“I’m doing a stint as a guest lecturer at UChicago starting next week. I was hoping to find something professorial.”

I nod. “Nothing screams ‘professor’ quite like tweed.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He picks up a jacket in a pattern of brown and maroon houndstooth, examining the label on the interior of the collar. “Do you have this in a forty-four long?” He pats his belly. “The holidays, you know.”

“I’ll check in the back,” I say.

I’m internally rolling my eyes. I don’t have any extra inventory in the back, unless it’s a delivery that I haven’t put out into the store yet. But to access the back of the store, I have to go behind the counter, and it’s a good chance to check on Alissa.

I walk behind the register, where she’s lying in a fetal position, still naked as the day she was born. “You doing okay?” I whisper.

She nods. “I’ve never found myself in this situation.”

“Mr. Liddell is efficient. He’ll be out in a few moments.”

I head to the back for a moment and then return.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Liddell. Nothing in that size in the back.”

“I’d a feeling that would be the case. But I found this piece in my size.” He holds up a tan herringbone blazer with dark-brown elbow patches. “A good second choice.”

“That’s a great style.” I gesture to the register. “Is there anything else, or would you like to ring it up?”

“Just this,” Mr. Liddell says, but then he casts his gaze over to the display of neckties. “Wait.”

He walks over and glances down, picking up the belt—my belt, made of brown leather with a crosshatch pattern—that Alissa whipped off my waist.

“This must have fallen off a display.” He examines the belt. “I’ve been in the market for a new brown belt. And I love this pattern. But no price tag. How much?”

I want to tell Mr. Liddell that the belt isn’t for sale, but then I’d have to come up with a reason for why it was on the floor by the ties.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you have it for another twenty if you check out right now.”

Mr. Liddell’s eyes light up. “You’ve got yourself a deal there, son.” He places my belt and the herringbone blazer on the counter.

Thank God. My cock needs to get back to Alissa stat.

I walk behind the register—Alissa scoots out of my way—and ring him up. “The total will come to a little over two hundred seventy after tax.”

“Tell you what,” Mr. Liddell says. “I might be able to cover that in cash today. I have a few hundreds burning a hole through my wallet.”

Fuck. A credit card would be faster.

Mr. Liddell slowly reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. It’s stuffed to the brim, and he’s leafing through the bills at a snail’s pace.

Alissa is caressing my ankle. Damn. Mr. Liddell hands me two hundreds and a fifty. “How much extra for tax?”

I ring him up. “Total is two seventy-two and five cents.”

His slides more bills out of his wallet as his eyes light up. “I might just have that nickel.”

Christ. The one time he decides to pay in cash is the time that Alissa is naked on the floor in front of me.

I fold the blazer and place it in a bag with the shop’s name emblazoned over the front. I open the cash register and put the cash in. “Are you a member of our rewards program?”

The words were out of my mouth before I even realized. I always ask that when I ring customers up. Mr. Liddell himself has always declined, saying he doesn’t have the time to fill out the form. Surely this time he’ll also?—

“You know what?” He smiles. “I come here often enough, and I have the time. Why not?”

Fuck.

I reach under the counter and grab a form for the Hathaway Haberdashery rewards program.

“You don’t have to fill out the whole form, Mr. Liddell,” I say, handing him a pen. “All that really matters is email.”

Mr. Liddell purses his lips. “I’m a little old-fashioned. I’d rather receive your news through snail mail.”

Of fucking course he would.

He slowly writes his full mailing address on the form.

“Thank you,” I say when he’s finally done.

Mr. Liddle grabs his bag and turns toward the exit. “Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, Maddox.”

He leaves the store. I bolt behind him and lock the door, flicking on the “closed” sign.

Alissa demurely rises from behind the register.

I rush to her and grab her. “God, you look hot.”

She giggles. “I was fantasizing about giving you head while you were ringing him up.”

My groin tightens. “The counter’s not high enough.”

“I know. A shame, really.”

I kiss her again, hard and deep. God, I’m so hard, so ready.

I break the kiss. “Get on the fucking counter, Alissa.”

She walks over to the counter where Mr. Liddell’s jacket lay just a moment ago and hoists herself up. She sprawls across it, spreading her legs.

I inhale.

“God, I can smell you. How wet you are.”

I kneel between her legs, inhale again, and then nip at her labia before diving in with my tongue. I’d gladly eat her forever, but in another minute, she’s convulsing on the counter.

“Maddox!”

“God, I love to make you come, Alissa,” I growl against her soft flesh. “You’re going to keep coming. You’re going to come until you’re a fucking puddle on the counter.”

I run my fingers up her body, swatting her own hands off her nipples and pinching them myself, while I continue licking between her legs. Within a few more moments, she’s thrashing on the counter again, like a fish out of water, crying out.

That’s two so far.

She needs a third.

I pull another out of her.

Another.

Until she’s grabbing at my hair, pulling it. “Can’t. Need you. Need you now.”

She doesn’t need to ask again. I rise and nip at her earlobe. “I’m going to pull that last climax out of you with my big cock. And you’re going to love every fucking second of it.”

“Yes, Maddox,” she lets out on a sigh. “I will. I fucking will.”