Slay (Storm MC #4)

I clicked my fingers and snapped, “Now.”


She quickly reached into her back jean pocket, pulled her phone out and gave it to me. It was better I controlled her for a while than some asshole only looking out for his own needs.

“Good,” I said, placing her phone in my pocket. “Now, I want you to go up to bed because tomorrow you start work.”

She stiffened. “Work?”

“Yes, you can work here while you stay with me.”

“I don’t know anything about working in a bar.” Panicked features stared back at me.

I ignored her worry. “It’ll be fine. I’ll show you everything you need to know. Promise.”

She relaxed a little. Whenever I promised something, I always came through, and she knew that. “Okay, Layla.”

I waited until she’d gone upstairs before shaking my head and expelling a frustrated breath.

Lord help us.

“Layla.”

I turned to see Jess watching me. “She okay? We can cope down here without you if you want to go up and sit with her.”

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I think she’ll be alright by herself.”

Jess’s attention shifted to something behind me, and I looked around to find her looking at Donovan. Blade. I liked his given name better.

His gaze pierced me, stirring my lust. “Oh, shit,” I muttered as the lust unfurled through me.

“What?” Jess asked.

“I was supposed to keep his drinks coming.”

She grinned. “Well, you better get onto that then.”

I groaned at her subtlety. “I should send you over.”

“Nope, can’t do it. I’ve already got too much to do. You’ll have to take care of Mr Arm Porn.” She kept grinning as she brushed past me to get back to work.

“I’ll remember this,” I muttered as I poured his scotch.

When I placed it in front of him a couple of moments later, he asked, “Who’s the redhead?”

Momentarily confused, I frowned. “Who?”

He jerked his chin toward the bar. “The little redhead you were just talking to.”

Annie.

“She’s my cousin.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I like to know who all the players are.”

“Who all the players are? What the fuck?”

“Layla, you’re in some serious shit here. I’m keeping an eye on everyone involved, so when I see a new face, I like to know who we’re dealing with.”

Seriously?

I pulled the spare seat back and sat down, glaring at him. “I’ll tell you who the fuck we’re dealing with, Donovan. Her name’s Annie and she’s my cousin. I’ve just moved her in with me to get her away from her deadbeat asshole of a boyfriend. Annie is the sweetest girl, but she struggles in life due to the shit her father dealt her growing up. She has absolutely nothing to do with Mario so you can stop wondering about her. Annie wouldn’t hurt a fly.” My pulse sped up, racing through my body while my heart pounded in my chest. I wouldn’t have Annie involved in this shit.

He shifted forward in his seat and dipped his head a little to bring his gaze closer to mine. “I didn’t think she would. I’m more concerned about Mario sniffing her out if he comes back here. That he’d use her against you. Anyone can see the girl is vulnerable.”

Shit.

I slumped in the chair, my body returning to its normal state. Some days it just felt like all the shit was piling up and I had no way out from under it. “Does life ever get to you?” I asked. He seemed so in control all the time.

He stared at me. I couldn’t read him, though. Couldn’t figure out what thoughts were running through his mind. Finally, he admitted, “Some days, yes.” And down came his guard a little. The hard lines of his face softened, and as he scrubbed a hand over his face, I noticed his exhaustion.

“Only some days?”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Perhaps more often than that.”

“I don’t know, Donovan...It just seems like every time I think life is going well, shit happens and screws it up. The two steps forward turn into three steps back some days.”

“Diamonds are made under pressure,” he murmured, eyes glued to mine, and I held my breath for a moment as I processed what he’d said. No one had ever given me a compliment like that, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

As I scrambled for what to say, he continued, “No one calls me Donovan anymore. I like it on your lips.” He drank some more of his scotch, eyes still on me.

God, he was something else. I’d never met a man like him. One who had the ability to make me want him even when I wanted nothing to do with him at the same time. One who threatened to set my panties on fire with words alone.

“I prefer it to Blade. How’d you get that name?” I asked.

He finished his drink, and carefully placed the glass back on the table before looking at me. “Probably best if I don’t share that story with you.” The intense way he looked at me sent shivers through my body.

I really wanted to know that story.

“Try me,” I challenged.