What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) by Maddie Taylor Read Free Book Online Page B

he watched Angie look up at the big ex-Marine, talking more animatedly than she had with him and offering Dan a small smile. Envy, an emotion he rarely experienced, created an ache in his chest. He would have enjoyed seeing that smile flashing his way. With him, however, she’d been stiff, more stilted than she’d ever been in the past. When they’d talked about the day she’d been stabbed, she’d barely met his eyes, which was unusual for Angie. During the long drawn out months of the cartel investigation, he’d seen her go toe to toe with several of the Rossi men, even Cap, which took guts. He wondered if it was due to observing him in the scene or if it was something more. Had she remembered what she’d revealed as she lay bleeding beneath his hand, using her last bit of breath, struggling on a shallow gasp to put words together that would lay waste to his walled off heart.
    If only…
    “Damn fool,” he cursed aloud. “You can’t hold her close with one hand and push her away with the other.”
    His own words echoed back to him as he walked down the empty corridor. Conflicted, he re-entered the club. That’s when it hit him. Despite standing in the midst of a crowd of at least seventy-five members, he still felt incredibly lonely.
     

Chapter Four
     
     
    Tuesday ended up being one of the longest days he could remember. Haunted by the uncomfortable meeting with Angie the night before, he hadn’t slept well and woke in a foul mood, which meant he went to work in an equally foul mood. Ordinarily, he loved his job, even when he had to take his turn in the surveillance room, today was the exception. The office manager had all but tied him to his desk and forced him to complete his paperwork so they could bill for the last four bonds he’d brought in. Filling out tedious expense reports, billable time logs and sifting through three months of wadded up disorganized receipts was not his idea of a good day. He’d managed to break away for an hour to spar with Jonas, and though the smaller man wiped the floor with him—never underestimate size when it’s wrapped in an eighth degree black belt—the physical outlet had helped.
    Now, as he entered the club, he was looking for another type of physical outlet. It was early, the crowd thin and the band was still setting up in the lounge. Hoping a shot of liquor would ease the tension in his neck brought on by pushing a pencil all day, he slid onto a barstool and signaled Ben. Without having to ask, he set him up with his favorite twenty-year-old bourbon—Elijah Craig—neat. While he sipped, tasting the spiciness and savoring the pleasant burn as it first hit his tongue, then slid down his throat with a slow heat that curled in his belly, he relaxed and surveyed the members present in the floor to ceiling mirrored wall behind the bar.
    As he scanned the plush couches in the seating area, the couples merged into an unremarkable sea of black leather and lace, except one. They were seated in a shadowed corner and he might have missed them if not for the splash of color in the sub’s fetish wear. He homed in on the bright purple corset, noting the small cinched in waist before following it upward over full breasts, which were overflowing the top edge just enough to spur a reaction in his body. Moving onward, he traced up a delicate throat, over a gracefully curved chin to full, pink lips he’d recognize anywhere.
    Having dreamed about that mouth often enough, either kissing it or watching as it opened to receive his hard cock, he knew instantly this wasn’t fantasy. Angie was all too real and she was currently perched atop Dan Ogilvie’s lap. His jaw clenched as he began a slow perusal of the pair. He didn’t get far, stalling on her wrists which were cuffed behind her, causing a slight bowing in her back, and giving the hand that was slowly stroking her complete access.
    T watched as her Dom’s hand skated deliberately over her lovely assets, starting at her face,