Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(43)

And with the thought of Lucas Titan’s cock in my mouth, I went back to work.





I TOSSED MY PHONE IN my desk drawer and slammed it shut. I wasn’t going to stare at the damn thing and wait for it to ring. Yve would call or she wouldn’t, and I wasn’t the kind of punk-ass, whiny bitch of a man to wait and wonder when that would happen. It had been over twenty-four hours, and still nothing.

I’ll decide when and where. That damn woman. I’d make her beg. Because this was ridiculous. I’m Lucas Fucking Titan, and no one calls the shots but me.

I had a state senator who wanted an open-ended favor, but I wouldn’t give it to him because I refused to be put at a disadvantage—and that was in the face of the twin rewards of proving my father wrong and adding potentially billions to the bottom line of Titan Industries. And yet I’d put myself at a disadvantage to get back inside the sweetest, sassiest * I’d ever had.

What was it about that woman?

My office door banged open and Colson walked in.

“Come on in, why don’t you?” I snapped.

His head jerked up. “What’s got your panties in a wad? Need to get some? I’ve got this chick, she’d probably take us both on. If you’re into that kind of thing.” He looked at the floor. “Not saying I want to see your dick or anything, but—”

“No. And never bring that up again.”

He shrugged. “Just trying to be helpful.”

“Then how about you be helpful by finding me a group of senators who have backbones?”

“I’m working on it. But what you said about Hendricks and Shuman is holding true with everyone else I’ve contacted. Doesn’t matter where their district is in the damn state, it seems that Haines put the word out to steer clear of you and the bill.”

“That prick.”

“He have some kind of grudge you don’t realize?”

“You’re the one who did the investigation on him,” I snapped. “You tell me.”

Colson shook his head. “No connection to you or Titan Industries on any level. Doesn’t make any sense other than he wants your favor in his back pocket. He wouldn’t be the first or the last. Occam’s Razor, right? Simplest answer is usually the right one.”

My phone buzzed in my drawer.

“Sure. Whatever. Get out.”

“What?”

I pulled the drawer open and grabbed my phone. There was a text alert from an unknown number.

“I said get out.” I jerked my head toward the door.

“Fine. I’ll go round up more senators.”

I waved him off and tapped in my code to unlock the screen. The text popped up when I clicked on the app.

Tonight. Midnight. Dirty Dog. Don’t wear a suit.

I didn’t take orders, hadn’t for years. But this one I would make an exception for.

“What’s that smirk for? Normally I recognize them all, but that one’s new and different.”

I glanced up, the smirk Colson had called out immediately falling away. “I told you to get out.”

“And I wanted to know what the hell has you grinning like a little kid.”

Scowling at him, I said, “Get the f*ck out. If I want you to know something, I’ll tell you.”

He grabbed the door handle. “I’m watching out for you, whether you want me to or not. So deal with it.” He didn’t slam the door behind him like I would have, but then again, I was the boss. It shut with a decisive click.

When I looked back down at my phone, my smirk came back again. Don’t wear a suit.

Did she think I always wore a suit?

Oh, Yve.

This was going to be fun.




I pulled up at the back door of Dirty Dog, the one the delivery guy had used, and parked. Midnight in the Quarter wasn’t the safest for my car, but I was willing to take the risk. Yve Santos was a hell of an incentive. I rang the buzzer and waited.

Only moments later, the door swung open and Yve stood inside. I’d expected her in one of her retro-looking dresses since those were all I’d ever seen her wear. I was wrong.

Yve Santos might have looked gorgeous in a dress, but in cut-off shorts and a tight tank top, her hair up on her head in a sexy, messy knot, she looked . . . less polished. More real. Like a woman who was up for a night of hard f*cking.

My thoughts made no sense. I liked my women perfectly coiffed and well manicured. I got the feeling that this was Yve’s way of telling me she didn’t give a shit what I thought about how she looked, and if we were going to do this, then I could take her however I could get her.

If she’d thought to turn me off or frustrate me, she’d made a tactical error.

“Strip,” I told her as soon as I pushed inside the store.

“Fuck you.”

My brows lifted and I smiled. This was going to be too much fun. “That was the plan, wasn’t it, Yve?”

She turned her back on me and headed down the hallway. I caught up with her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her against my body. Hell, she was a sexy armful, even when she wiggled loose and spun on me.

“I’m calling the shots here,” she said.

“No, you call the time and place, and I decide everything else. And I want you naked.”