Rhys
I propbartender’smy elbowsattention. on “I’llthe havebar, threemotioningmore fingers.”with my glass
to catch the The bartender nods and obliges. I thank him and polish off the amber liquid in one gulp.
Before he can walk away from me, I ask for three more fingers. He cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll have
another round.” I maintain my position. He’s still rooted in place. “What? You have my credit card and
I’m running a tab. What more do you need?” “Very well, Mr. Hartford,” he says in a calm tone that
betrays the worry veiling his eyes. The rational part of me understands where he’s coming from. This
is my fourth drink in a short window, but I need to smooth the edges before I lose my goddamn mind.
“Thanks,” I say when he pours the amber liquid in my glass. Salvation. I gulp down half my drink. She
infuriates me. Who the fuck does she think she is, judging me? She thinks she has me pegged. She
knows nothing. The mountain of conflicting feelings that coursed through me as Keira barraged me for
no good reason was too much to handle. I needed to get the hell out of there––and I needed to get out
fast––before I did something I
lived to regret. I wanted to drag her over my lap and spank her until she found a new attitude as much
as I wanted to silence her lips with a heated kiss.
After driving around in circles, I decided to attack my problem head-on. While I was waiting around to
pick up Keira, I killed some time at my stomping ground.
I’m back at the Quintus Hotel. I bypassed the gentleman’s club and headed straight for the whiskey
bar. This is my warm-up before I head to Dark Compulsion––the private adult club hiding behind the
hotel. It’s a little past one o’clock in the morning, so things should be hot and heavy by now.
And... my thoughts veer to Keira. Fuck. My sour mood kicks up a notch––or ten. It’s my own damn
fault for putting my cock’s needs in the backseat while I raised to the challenges and demands of
running a company.
I should learn to channel Beckett. Taking SCORE to new heights has never slowed him––or his
cock–– down. I pull tail just fine, but compared to him, I’m a novice. Then again, I have a lot more
discerning taste. Although, the pretty boy has changed his ways recently.
Time to swing the pendulum to the other side. Only two things will do tonight––expensive whiskey
and a willing pussy.
“Drinking alone, Mr. Hartford?” I lift my head and catch sight of the tall, impeccably dressed man I
saw a few hours ago.
Larkin Gallagher. The two stout men that double as his shadow stand guard at the door. “Larkin.” I
greet the owner of the Quintus Hotel by lifting my glass. “Can I join you?” He doesn’t give me a
chance to answer. He pulls up a stool, unbuttons his suit jacket, and sits at the bar next to me.
“You own the place.” I gesture around the bar with my glass in hand. My curt tone doesn’t faze him.
“You’re in a cheerful mood tonight.” “A big fucking ray of sunshine.” Larkin calls the bartender over.
“I’ll have what he’s having.” I shoot him a side gaze. “You don’t even know what I’m drinking.”
“Mr. Hartford, how long have you known me?” “You know.” Sarcasm is thick in my tone. Larkin
knows everything. I swear, the man has eyes in the back of his head. The bartender serves Larkin his
drink. “Thank you, Miguel,” he says. He lifts his glass. “Cheers!” I offer a small nod in response.
“This is outstanding.” He brings the glass to eye level to appreciate the liquor.
I give him another small nod in agreement. “Twice in one evening.” Larkin cuts to the chase. His eyes,
the same amber color as the liquid swirling in his glass, study me. “I assume the refined whiskey isn’t
the reason for your return.”
“You’d be surprised.” I polish off my drink. I lift my glass, ready for another drink.
Larkin places a hand on my arm. He shakes his head at the waiter who scurries off. “I’ll have to
demand you hand over your keys,” he says. I shake my head at him. “I’m in control.” “Friends don’t
let friends get behind the wheel when their head isn’t in the game. It’s stupid, reckless, dangerous, and
potentially lethal.”
“I’m in control.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Miguel texted me. Only a few select patrons ever get my
personal attention. Everyone else deals with a bodyguard. You’re not driving your car back to your
place. I’m not budging.”
It’s my turn to sigh. “I came here to clear my head, not get babied or lectured.”
“In my experience, it’s easier to deal with thorny situations when you’re sober.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh, my eyes dropping to my empty glass. “It’s ironic coming from me
considering alcohol is damn profitable for many of my businesses,” he says. “Like I said, friends have
each other’s back. If you give me your keys, it’ll put my mind at ease.”
I oblige with the same enthusiasm as a five-year-old agreeing to go to his room for time out.
I fish for my keys in the pocket of my jeans and hand them to him.
Larkin slides them on the bar. Miguel grabs them and puts them out of reach.
Great. I’m grounded. “I’m a good listener, Mr. Hartford.” I consider his invitation. “Women are
fucking complicated,” I say. “The entire gender at large or one in particular?” I choose not to answer
his question. “That’s what I like about Dark Compulsion. Uncomplicated.”
I don’t allow women into my head, but a tiny spitfire seems to be doing a good job messing me up.
“Why aren’t you there now?” Larkin’s tone is challenging. “There’s still a bevy of women eager to
find a match for the evening. Panties will drop the second a pretty boy like you walks into the room.”
Keira’s words ring loud in my ears, her indecipherable expression, still haunting me.
Was it disappointment? Jealousy? That time of the month? I shake my head. Damn you, Keira. “I was
having a few drinks before heading there,” I say. “Well, you’re done drinking for the night.” That
challenging tone again. I hold his warning gaze. “The best way to forget a woman is to top another,
Mr. Hartford,” Larkin says. “Two women, if you have a lot to exorcise... three, if you need to fuck
yourself into a sex coma.”
I can’t help my laugh. A message flashes across my phone screen, forcing my gaze down to the bar.
I shouldn’t care, but I vowed to take care of her. I’d never let Noah down.
I meet Larkin’s gaze. “If you’ll excuse me.” “Of course.” He nods and turns his attention to his drink. I
snatch up my phone. Three words.
KEIRA
I’m so sorry.
I drop my phone on the bar with a groan. Larkin shoots another measured glance in my direction.
“Everything okay?”
“It was until a few hours ago.” “Weren’t you picking up your best friend’s little sister from the
airport?” “Mission accomplished. The package was safely delivered to my home.” And now peace of
mind is a thing of the past.
Larkin nods a few times before speaking. “You’re kidding yourself and you’re wasting your time, you
know that?” he says.
I knit my eyebrows in confusion. “What are you talking about?” “If a woman has you by the balls,
expensive whiskey and casual fucks won’t do shit.”
Thanks, Keira, for cock blocking me.