“Forgive me for being skeptical, but why would they pay for this?” I ask.
He looks at me. “Men like to show off what they have.”
“You mean to parade their sex slaves around,” I counter.
He chuckles softly. “If being a slave is your kink, then yes.”
“So, all of your members are men?” Jasmine asks.
“Not a hundred percent of them. But the majority, yes.”
“Why is that?” I go on.
He gives me a smile that makes my skin crawl. I wish men like him could be a woman for one day to know what it’s like. “A man will come five times a week and bring a different woman each time.”
“Getting his money’s worth,” I say with disgust.
He goes on as if I didn’t speak. “A woman will come ten times a year and bring the same man. So, it’s hard for a woman to justify that kind of … commitment.”
He means financially. He’s already said men make more money than women.
The door opens, and a woman enters dressed in black leather pants with a red crop top. She has her jet-black hair up in a tight bun. “Hooke, may I see you for a second?”
He stands and buttons his suit jacket. Bones stands as well and shakes his hand. “Thanks for taking the time to meet with us.”
“Of course.” He turns and nods to us just like before. “Ladies.” Then he exits the room. The door softly closing behind him.
I fall back onto the couch and let out a long sigh.
“Well, that actually went better than I thought it was going to,” Bones says, sitting back down.
“He’s a fucking prick,” Jasmine spits out and turns to face me, taking my hands in hers. “But it doesn’t change what I said, Alexa. Just give me the word, and we will show him how wrong he is.”
I search her green eyes. I trust Jasmine, and she trusts Bones. I have no doubt that she will devote her entire life to this club. She wants it to be a success. And I want that too.
Fuck Hooke and his view on women. We can be dominant and rule over men. “I’m in.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CROSS
I PACE MY office back and forth with my cell in my hand. I should call her. But I’m not sure what I would say at this point.
Sorry? Somehow that just doesn’t seem like enough. I’ve had some time to think about last night, and she wasn’t wrong. I just didn’t want to admit that.
I hate how much she’s on my mind. She was supposed to be a fuck, but she consumes me. Why did I allow it to get to this? And how do I stop it?
“You busy?” Titan asks, entering my office.
“What do you want?” I ask, flipping my Zippo open and closed.
“Still pissy, I see?” He laughs softly.
I roll my eyes and turn my back to him.
“Just thought I’d let you know that I just got off the phone with Bones.”
“And?” I spin back around to face him. “What did he say?”
“The girls took the deal.”
I knew Alexa would. It was too good to pass up. I’m happy for her. Nodding, I tell him, “Thanks.”
“How long are you going to beat yourself up over this?” he asks, plopping down in the seat across from my desk.
I ignore that question and ask my own. “Why are you avoiding going home?” It’s almost midnight. He hasn’t stayed this late in a while.
“I’m not avoiding anything. Emilee is over at Haven and Luca’s right now.” He checks his watch. “I’m picking her up in an hour.”
I nod and fall into my seat behind my desk. “Have you heard from Grave?”
“No.”
I place my elbows on my desk and run my hands through my dark hair, releasing a sigh. “I haven’t either.”
“He’ll let us know if he needs anything,” he states, standing to walk toward my door.
“Thanks,” I say, making him stop.
He places his hand on the knob and turns to face me. “Just thought you’d like to know. Since she’s not talking to you right now.”
My jaw tightens. Getting in a fight with your girl in front of your friends is never good. “It’s complicated,” I say.
He snorts. “Been there. Good luck figuring it out.” Then he turns and leaves.
I sit back and let out a sigh. This is why I fuck and move on. To avoid this bullshit.
ALEXA
I SIT ACROSS from Bones and Jasmine in his private jet. My mind is going a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out everything that needs to be done once we get back.
“Here you go, sir. Ladies.” His flight attendant stops beside us with a bucket full of ice and champagne.
“Thanks, Nicki,” he says, reaching over and grabbing it. He pops the cork and pours it into three flutes, then hands us each our own. “To you, ladies, and your success.” He lifts his glass.