HAN: Her Ruthless Mistake: 50 Loving States, Delaware (Ruthless Triad Book 4) Read online

  Okay, well, I wouldn’t call commanding me to strip or get out nice. But the alternative…I remembered the feel of K Diamond’s hands on my face and ass with a shudder. Then…

  I grabbed my shirt by the hem and pulled it over my head, revealing the comfortable sports bikini top I preferred over Victoria’s Secret’s stuff.

  His expression didn’t change after I gave in with this one move. He just stepped back and said, “Keep going. You can leave on the panties.”

  I was never going to tell anyone this story. I already knew that as soon as I started kicking off my shoes. But even if I was willing to, I doubted I could assign proper labels to all the weird emotions swirling around inside of me as I stripped down in front of a fully clothed man.

  It somehow took both forever and way too short of a time. Eventually, I ran out of things to take off. So I just stood there, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as he scanned his eyes up and down my almost naked body.

  I figured it was his turn to strip down to, but no. He wordlessly sat down on the quilted vinyl couch and crooked a finger at me. “Lap dance.”

  Forget my cheeks. My whole body flushed with mortification. A dizzy feeling spun my mind, and I had to look up at the ceiling for a moment, concerned I might pass out.

  But no, I was still the daughter of a drill sergeant. I refused to pass out like some soft, new recruit at boot camp.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked forward and straddled my knees on either side of his waist.

  He’d appeared so disassociated before, his gaze barely flickering when I revealed my body. So when I settled into his lap, I was surprised to find him shockingly hard underneath his pants. His length dug into the thin layer of cotton covering my sex, and the material immediately indented without even putting up a fight. It allowed him so far into my slit, I let out a little gasp when he pressed into the sensitive bundle of nerves housed within my folds.

  My eyes flew up to meet his. Technically, they were brown, the same color as mine, but somehow much, much darker. Almost black. As if their one mission in life was to absorb all the light in the room.

  “Put on a good show,” he instructed. “Make Kuang Jr. believe….”

  “Believe what?” I asked, somewhat in the daze. I was still having trouble adjusting to how large and there he felt between my legs.

  But he held my gaze, his almost black eyes clear and unrelenting as he answered, “That you’re mine now. Not his.”

  I hesitated. But only for a moment.

  You can’t let the big waves intimidate you—that was one of the first things Bill, my old surf coach, taught me when he took me on as a student. If you see one coming at you, you don’t think about it. That’s how you get taken out. When you see one, you’ve got to paddle right up to it and jump on.

  So that was what I did.

  HAN

  She gasped like a girl in a K-drama when she sat in his lap, somehow surprised to find him hard. Han began to worry that despite her womanly body, she was too naïve to put on such a show. But then she began to undulate, grinding on him with the enthusiasm of a video vixen.

  And Han couldn’t say he was unaffected. His cock became a bar of pulsing steel when she settled her weight on top of it, raging to get out, even though this wasn’t by far his first lap dance. No, he didn’t touch prostitutes or strippers, but after decades spent in the VIP sections of nightclubs around the world, he’d found even regular girls carried this particular party trick in their arsenals these days.

  He’d never felt anything but faintly amused by the practice. But that was before…before this.

  There was something about getting grounded on by this girl in particular. Something that made his stomach tighten with an aching need and dark desire. Something that made him forget this was a show. Just a show.

  The activity was affecting her too. Her luscious lips had fallen open, and her breath was coming out in short, quick pants.

  What would it be like to have her for real? The thought crept into his head like a sneaky thief on a cold night. What would it be like to put her underneath him? To make her beg? Had she ever been made to beg before?

  A new curiosity filled him up. And suddenly, Han was moving without thought or plan. He curled a hand around her neck and pulled her forward.

  She eeped against his mouth when he drew her in for the kiss. She tasted like warm ocean water for some reason, an innocent mermaid risen from the sea. He licked at her lips, then pressed into her warm mouth. Wanting more. Taking more than he should. But she didn’t stop him. No…she kissed him back.

  A show. They were just putting on a show for Kuang Jr.

  But the kiss set them ablaze.

  In an instant, the room fell away, along with the threat of Kuang Jr. She ground her cunt into his lap as they kissed, her hips coming unhinged. And Han clasped her ass. Not for the show but because he wanted to her—needed her to grind slower and tighter against him.

  The sudden increase in pressure 10X-ed her efforts and made her undulations that much more arousing. For both of them.

  Han swallowed her frantic moans. “I’m… I’m…” his impulse purchase gasped against his lips.

  Her mouth fell away. A show. This was only supposed to be a show. But she began to shudder against him, an orgasm almost as unexpected as his acquisition of her quaking her body.

  The sight of her coming on his lap was incredibly erotic. Just a show…but Han had to bite down on his back teeth to keep from coming like a schoolboy in his pants as he watched her fall apart.

  Either minutes or hours passed in this manner. Han couldn’t be sure. His chest was pounding, his blood pumping with a roaring hunger. The cotton of her panties was so thin that despite being fully clothed, Han could feel the sticky heat of her cunt against him, wet and pulsing.

  Temptation coursed through his body. All it would take was an unzipping of his pants. He could pull himself out, move her underwear—maybe even rip them off her body. Then he’d be inside of her—

  But no. He bit down on the ravenous hunger. Not here. Not like this.

  Han somehow managed to hold himself back, and eventually, she finished coming.

  “I can’t…” she drooped against him, her arms still clinging around his neck. “I can’t believe I did that.”

  JAZZ

  I can’t believe I did that.

  It was a total wipeout. I was underneath the ocean, unsure what was up or down. Or even if I’d said those words out loud.

  What did I do? For a moment, there was nothing but pleasure. That wicked bonfire had built so fast and hot. The orgasm overtook me before I realized that was where it was heading.

  I’d found myself in a terrible situation, one I would never wish to be in, but for several moments, I’d been in the ocean, surfing the perfect wave.

  Until…the wipeout of realization. And when I finally managed to resurface, everything inside me and out burned with embarrassment. I wasn’t sure how I wasn’t a pile of ash at this point. All I wanted to do is die. Die of shame.

  “Don’t,” the Fae King warned.

  I didn’t know his name. I’d come in his lap, but I didn’t even know his name! A brain-melting panic began to rise inside of me.

  But he wrapped his arms around me, tight like an amateur lifeguard pulling a flailing swimmer out of the ocean.

  “You did very well. He believes you belong to me now,” he whispered in my ear, his voice low and full of censure. “Do not ruin our illusion by becoming visibly upset.”

  He was right. I caught myself and paddled back to shore before another wave of shame and panic could wipe me out again.

  He must have sensed my calm down.

  “Good, good.” He gave me a kiss on my forehead, and it felt like a reward for not freaking out. “Get dressed now.”

  But he must have understood that I wasn’t in the condition to take any more of his orders.

  Instead of waiting for me to obey like he did the last time, he stood up with me
in his arms and walked over to my discarded clothes. And instead of putting me down there or walking back to the couch, he crossed the room and set me down underneath the television set where K Diamond wouldn’t be able to see me. See us…

  I was still shocked about what had just happened and even more surprised when he began to re-dress me like a Barbie. Putting on my bra first, then my T-shirt before squatting down and holding out my shorts so that I could push my legs through.

  He politely did this for me without any judgment in his expression. But even after I was fully covered up again, my heart couldn’t stop beating erratically.

  “I can’t believe I did that,” I said again, this time in a whisper.

  “It is a good thing,” he assured me, his voice severe and quiet. “After that display, there will be no doubt of my claim.”

  He was right about that, as it turned out. K Diamond was gone when we returned to the bar area, along with my bag of money. So I guess he had no doubts that the Fae King’s “claim,” as he called it, was completely legit.

  But that didn’t mean the uncomfortable part was over. Several of the guys from both the casual and suit crews were still lingering around the bar area. A couple of the suits were lazily tossing bills at a full-on naked girl twerking to “Hot Girl Summer.” She also appeared to be what my Filipino mother sometimes referred to as “Black Asian.” And she wore her hair down in a long weave as opposed to in a sturdy ponytail like me.

  But other than that, she could’ve been me. I could be dancing completely naked for dollars right now, if not for the mysterious Fae King’s intervention.

  She didn’t register us as we walked by. But the suits openly stared at me as I was escorted out of the club by their leader, along with quite a few men from the casual crew. It was obvious they all knew what had just happened in that back room.

  Fortunately, my abject embarrassment was the only price of getting out of Aloha Ballers.

  No one tried to stop us, and a few of the suits even gave my guide head nods as we passed by. Their nods weren’t casual either. They were similar to head bows, almost formal, and definitely deferential.

  I glanced sideways at my mysterious escort. Maybe he really was a Fae King. He radiated power, maybe even more than K Diamond—what had he called him?

  Oh yeah, Kuang Jr., as if he considered him a little boy and not an apparent crime boss who ran both gambling and sex trafficking rackets.

  I didn’t dare to ask any questions as we made our way out. It was much later now, and there was a line of people—mostly tourists—waiting to get into Aloha Ballers.

  But as soon as we were in the parking lot, away from the crowd, I whipped around to ask the mysterious Fae King, “Okay, who are you?”

  He appeared to think about my question, his eyes going sideways as if the answer were more complicated than giving me a simple name. Then instead of answering, he said, “I believe the two words you’re looking for are thank you.”

  He might be right about that. My mother stayed riding me about my terrible manners. And Brad’s former agent actually brought in a coach to teach me how to act nice and polite for interviews in order to “better represent” my then-boyfriend’s brand.

  But I answered the guy I just not-so-dry-humped with the truth. “I’m still trying to decide if you’re my savior or my mistake.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you always speak your private thoughts out loud like this?”

  “Pretty much, yeah,” I answered without any apology whatsoever. “So what does this mean? For my father? For me?”

  The eyebrow went down, but the disapproving look stayed. “Your father is safe, but he should not come here again. Let him know if he does, there will be trouble.”

  I nodded in quick agreement. “It was a one-time thing. He was desperate to take control back of his life, and he made a stupid decision.”

  “Yes, very stupid. Yet, you came here and put yourself in danger for him anyway.” His voice rang with condescension and judgment.

  I bristled. “What other choice did I have? He’s my father.”

  The Fae King didn’t answer. He just looked down his nose at me, making it clear that he thought both my father and I were idiots.

  And I found myself asking again, this time needing to know, “Why did you do this? Why did you pay all that money for me?”

  He regarded me, his eyes icy and black.

  “You’re mine now,” he said. As if it was a simple fact. Like oxygen and gravity and the sky above our heads.

  You’re mine now.

  Alarm bells. So many alarm bells went off in my head.

  “What…what does that mean exactly?” I asked, trying but failing to not sound scared.

  Instead of answering, he simply pulled a phone out of his inside pocket and held it out to me. “Here, take this.”

  I looked down at the phone he offered me instead of a reasonable answer. It was the latest iPhone and a lot sleeker than the old Samsung Galaxy I got when I competed in the Vans Triple Crown back in that other life I could barely remember now.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked, not understanding.

  “When it rings, you answer it. If I text, you answer it. No matter what.”

  Forget alarm bells. Tsunami sirens sounded between my ears. “So that’s how it’s going to be between us? I’m supposed to just stay at your beck and call like I don’t have my own life?”

  He gave me a head nod that wasn’t nearly as deferential as the ones he’d received inside. “You catch on quickly.”

  I mean, now I did. But I still had questions, so many more questions.

  However, before I could ask him any of this, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the night and leaving me to wonder….

  What comes next.

  5

  JAZZ

  I didn't realize I was shaking until I got into my old Jeep Wrangler. I usually didn't mind that Bill had somehow lost the zipper windows for my Wrangler before selling it to me. I didn't feel like I needed them, even when it rained. But what happened inside Aloha Ballers made the tropical breeze feel like a freezing wind across my skin and made my teeth chatter.

  What just happened? Who was that woman who had not only stripped down to her underwear but then came while gyrating all over a stranger she barely knew?

  I stared at the phone he'd given me, gripping it tight in one hand to stop it from shaking.

  Was he serious? Would he really call? What would he want? What would he feel entitled to after paying off my unexpectedly doubled debt?

  None of the answers made the shivering lessen.

  But eventually, I managed to calm down enough to start the car and drive to our ranch house in Pearl City.

  However, the sight of the car parked in my usual space in the driveway erased any relief I might have felt about finally making it back home.

  It was my sister, Mika's car—well, at least, it was the Mercedes G-Class SUV that she was permitted to use in exchange for taking care of her insanely difficult billionaire boss. And that meant she and my nephew Albie were probably inside.

  Usually, I loved to see them. They lived in Connecticut, where Mika decided to move for grad school after her husband's death. I was super lucky that she landed a local job in Oahu this summer with the guy I'd dubbed the Broken Billionaire. And I'd spent most of my off-hours this summer hanging out with them every chance I could get.

  But Mika was crazy empathetic—a former nurse who naturally wanted to help everyone she met heal. As I walked inside, I knew I'd have to school my face big time to keep her from suspecting anything was wrong.

  I did my best, but it wasn't good enough.

  "What's wrong?" Mika asked me as soon as I came through the door.

  She must have been on her way out when I arrived. Albie was with her and came running up to me with his arms outstretched. "Aunt Jazz! Aunt Jazz!"

  From what I'd seen in classes, nine-year-old boys weren't usually this enthusiasti
c about hugging, but Albie always had a big one ready for me. Maybe because he knew his time in Hawaii was short and years might go by before he had the chance to see me again.

  "Are you alright?" Mika asked as Albie hugged me around the waist. The worry creasing her face made her less stunning than usual, but only a very tiny bit.

  Mika favored our father, and I took after our mother, but if you asked me, she was the prettier of us two. She usually tried a lot harder than me anyway—which is not saying much since I'd never seen the point of trying at all. So tonight, she looked like a pin-up in comparison to me with a light dusting of makeup and her hair worn down in a gorgeous riot of curls. Plus, thanks to the pregnancy weight she never lost, she had way more curves. She looked the very picture of lush, Hawaiian femininity in her soft green dress and delicate sandals.

  I rarely bothered with makeup since it was just going to get washed out in the ocean anyway. Jeans cut off just above the knees, a loose tee, and a pair of sturdy Tevas were the perfect everyday outfit for hauling surfboards around if you asked me. So even though we were sisters and best friends with the same source DNA, we were nothing alike.

  For example, I was great with not talking about my feelings—like, ever. But Mika's number one goal in life seemed to be getting me to tell her how I really was—no, really, Jazzy, how are you, deep down inside?

  "I had morning and early evening lessons today. It was a lot," I answered just to ease the worry off her face. Then I rushed in with a question of my own before she could ask me any follow-ups. "What are you doing here?"

  "I'm not sure," Mika answered with a wry shake of her head. "Albie said we had to come over because you had some good news to celebrate. And when we got here, Mom told us about Dad's fall."

  Mika had enough on her plate with raising Albie on her own and her stalkery ex-in-laws, who'd been harassing her ever since her husband's death. I didn't want to stress her out any worse than she already was. But I also hated lying to her.