All is Lost (All Series, Book 2) (5 page)

“
What can I get you?” He
yells over the pulsating music.

“
Domestic draft,” I shout
back and he nods.

He fills the frosty mug slowly
allowing the foam to crest the rim then drops a cocktail napkin
down in front of me, followed by my beer. I instruct him to start a
tab then savor my first drink. Draft beer happens to be my drink of
choice. Tonight I kick back and enjoy a few, reacquainting myself
to the great life.

The vibes at this club are
good and I’ve caught the eye of several good looking women, but I'm
searching for better than good tonight. My search for something
more exciting leads me away from here all too soon, and lands me at
the hottest nightclub in the hotel. This old-world tavern replica
reminds me of some of the local flare back home in England.
This is right where I need to
be
, I smile.

The atmosphere is electric and it
doesn't take long for me to resolve the problem of being alone.
Most women are attracted to me like bees on honey and tonight they
are buzzing like they love what I’m offering. Three sexy as fuck
women give me so much attention every man in the bar is green with
envy. I smile at the bastards, mentally flipping them off with both
middle fingers.

Welcome to my world mother
fuckers
.

It is amazing how much better I feel.
With the brilliant drink and naughty attention from the ladies,
everything is going according to plan. I'll just pace myself and
save the other mind numbing shit for another night. I don't
anticipate leaving sin city for a while.

Waverly
, my mind whispers. I push that thought away with another swig
of my beer, and then tug one of the hot babes down onto my lap,
grinding my needy dick against her.
The
great life
, I remind myself.

Propelled by the rhythm of
the hyper music, I spend most of the night on the dance floor with
all three women. They rub their glistening bodies against me miming
sex acts that begin to slowly grate on my nerves. I’m not sure what
it is, but something about them just isn’t doing it for me. I'm all
for girl on girl, but these ladies appear to be professionals. Not
to mention I get the feeling that maybe they like my money more
than me. Hell, I can't blame them, at the moment I think
I
do too.

However, as our nasty
dancing status grows so does interest in knowing who I am. With
each person that asks my name, I become more uncomfortable. Tonight
is about getting lost and not being a fucking
Walker
. I don't give a shit what the
ladies call me as long as by the end of the night at least one of
them is screaming for me from the rooftop of this goddamn
hotel.

The money and beer flow freely through
the evening. I drain the last drop of draft beer from my sixth mug
and as the alcohol settles, I decide rather than continuing to be a
participant that I'll just watch the ladies perform. From my
vantage point in the VIP upper level seating I can see the entire
dance floor. Upon my absence the three beauties quickly attract
several men, taking up where I left off and I find that I'm not
bothered in the least with being replaced. As chummy as the ladies
are, it appears that if I do end up taking one of them back to my
room the other two will follow. I'm not saying I would turn down a
foursome. I just think after the way they've performed all night
that I may get excluded from the fun, and that shit won't do. I
need to get laid. While these new men step in where I left off, I
begin looking for an exit.

Scanning the room I notice a large
group gathered near the lower level bar. From the chanting it
appears that someone is being encouraged to do a shot. With a loud
cheer confirming the challenge was accepted, another round of
chants erupts, begging for a repeat performance. Curiosity gets the
better of me. I rise from my seat and skulk through the wild crowd,
needing to identify the shooter like a starving lion searching out
dinner.

Approaching the glass-top bar, I
notice the crowd begins to dissipate. Spotting an open seat, I
sidle up and discover the shooter is an exotic beauty with black
hair framing a heart shaped face and a curvy body. Watching her
down another shot without encouragement from the dispersed group, I
decide to send another her way. Upon receipt of my gift, she
follows the bartender’s finger, pointing in my direction. Her eyes
flutter around as she searches out her donator. Finally, her gaze
latches onto me and she holds it for just a beat before picking up
the shot glass, filled with her preferred liquid poison.

With a wicked smile, she
raises the shot glass in the air, offers a salute while mouthing
the words thank you and then follows it up with a kiss in the air.
Tossing it back without hesitation, she follows up the impressive
act with the tip of her pink tongue sweeping out as she licks away
a drop that tries to escape. Taken by her boldness, I stall
completely mesmerized by her and she catches me staring. Her eyes
roam the length of me appreciatively and when they finally stop,
her gaze fixates on my lap through the see-through bar top. Her
cheeks quickly darken to a hot pink shade, adding to her allure.
She is sexy as hell and awakening a deep ache within me.
I need to get laid
, I
remind myself. Shaking her head and lowering her eyes, her smile
grows innocent while she appears to reprimand herself for flirting
with a total stranger.

Chuckling softly to myself, I can only guess
her talent in bed after that seductive symbolic performance with
her sexy, little tongue. Having fun appears to be on her agenda for
the night too. She could be just the right entertainment to finish
out my night. I watch as she turns to the man next to her while her
eyes lift once again, locking with mine. She places her mouth
against his ear and I watch her lips move with her words. Nodding
is the only reaction the bastard has to her nearness while he
continues watching a basketball game on the television above his
head. The man must be a machine to resist her.

Breaking our eye contact as she rises from her
seat, she waves the bartender over. He leans toward her so that
he’s able to hear her request, but he indicates with a waving hand
toward his ear that he can’t hear over the loud atmosphere.
Observing her while she rises on her toes to stretch closer, I
smile at her light brown cowboy boots and glance down at my
matching set. My smile broadens scanning up those sexy tan legs
peeking out from under a fitted, black skirt. I continue to take
her in noticing the sexy, white halter top hanging loosely over her
shoulders. My breath stalls once again, imprisoned at the sight of
her heavy breast pressing against the bar top.

Their short conversation over the bartender
grins as he pulls away from her, turning toward the stocked shelf
behind him. Taking a bottle of Bacardi off the bottom, he jerks his
chin upward beckoning her. A magnificent smile bursts across her
face as she climbs onto the barstool and then on top of the bar.
She twists around and sits as the bartender steps up on a short
ladder behind her.

“
Ladies and gentleman,” He yells
toward the raucous crowd, who completely ignores him. “Hey!” He
screams louder and after a few eardrum piercing whistles, the
volume lowers drastically.

“
We have a special treat for one
lucky S.O.B tonight. This dear gents’, is the treat!” He indicates
placing a hand on the beauty. She begins giggling while shaking her
head slowly and my mouth waters as I watch the blush rushing up her
long neck.

“
It is body shot time!”

The crowd booms out their appreciation with
yells and more whistles. I am also instantly intrigued by her
show.

“
And the lucky bastard is…” He
says, scanning the crushed crowd of men at her feet.

Arms shoot up to the ceiling as nearly every
man in the bar begs her to pick him. She lifts a hand in front of
her, fingers outstretched toward the crowd. Moving it from left to
right and then back again she stops, her hand hovering midair and
then she points directly at me.

Hell yes she did
!

As cool as I am, I smoothly ease off my chair,
angle my way through the tight bunch of jealous men and stand
directly in front of her. Dropping her head down, she stares
excitedly into my eyes. Seductively, I take her hand in mine, kiss
it and assist her with lying back. Reaching with her free hand, she
pulls her hair up allowing it to fan out before placing her head
down. Never breaking eye contact with me, she turns her head and
begins chewing on a long painted fingernail. I raise the hand I’m
holding, rescue the one she’s mutilating with her teeth, and then
extend both above her head.

“
Relax, you’ll enjoy this,” I
reassure her, slowly lifting the hem of her top to just under the
edge of her breast, allowing my hand to graze it.
Yeah, I am an
ace at body shots
.

Seeing her sexy stomach, and a sparkling
bellybutton ring, my body temperature raises instantly, like
switching on a stove to the “goddamn that’s hot” setting. I lick my
lips as the bartender begins pouring the clear liquid into the
enticing, tiny indention above her skirt. A quiver in her stomach
breaks me out of my trance and I glance back at her face for
confirmation that she wants this. Her hooded eyes and slow nod
spurs me to proceed.

I place my tongue just under the area
containing the spirits, warming with her body temperature. Her abs
tightens as I encircle her bellybutton provocatively, and then
retrace the path with feather light kisses. Hearing her quick
intake of air, I smile against her hot skin. Encouraged by her
passionate reaction to my drawn out flirting, I lap up the spicy
liquid before running my tongue all the way down to the top of her
skirt. She squeals at the sensation and digs both hands into my
hair. Jerking my head up, she tugs me toward her mouth.

Growling appreciatively she pants, “Ohgod, I
need you to kiss me now.”

Gripping the back of her neck possessively, I
slide my thumb on her pulse point. Pressing lightly, I hold her in
place for a long moment and my cravings surge with delayed
gratification. Touching her this way, I instantly feel an increase
to her pounding rhythm.

Pausing with my lips grazing against hers, I
breathe across them, “Unless you tell me to stop now, I am going to
kiss you hard. Once I start I won’t stop until morning.”

Panting raggedly, her bewitching eyes dilate
with heat and she moans, “Don’t stop.”

Chapter Three

Marcus

Rhys drops a folder on his desk and turns to
me, “Marcus, do you know Attacus?” He nods toward the large tan man
sitting on the edge of his desk currently reading a
file.

Attacus Sloane the fifth is a member of the
Stealth team. Everyone calls him Tac except Rhys and he only does
it to piss off Tac. The two of them could be related because they
are both large men with Mediterranean looks, including dark hair
and olive skin tone. However, Tac appears to work out more. I'm
sure that his job plays a major role in that fact. Tac is a man
tracker–a very accomplished man tracker. Only twenty five years
old, he is the youngest member of the Stealth team and uses the job
as a police academy instructor for his cover. He was offered
positions at homeland security, the secret service and the ATF.
Instead of those jobs he chose Stealth. Stealth works as a
counter-terrorism unit, very similar to the U.S. Navy Seals.
However, the difference is Stealth is a ghost. You have to know
someone directly inside the cloak-and-dagger team to find them, let
alone get their assistance. Lucky for us, Rhys is our direct hook
up.

“
Yeah, Tac was one of my
instructors at the academy in Birmingham.” I remind him while I
offer my hand, greeting Tac. He grips it, nods and then
releases.

“
Right. Shit I can't remember a
damn thing anymore.” Rhys rubs his temple and laughs. “Not to
mention it has been a hellova twenty four hours. Too damn much
drinking, dancing and running for our lives last night. I sure as
hell didn't get as lucky as you though, huh Marcus?” He winks at me
like he knows all of my secrets. “Green feet didn't share my bed
last night.” I shake my head haphazardly, refusing to
respond.

“
How's it going Marcus?” Tac asks
kindly ignoring Rhys too.

“
It's fucked up Tac.” I snap
completely frustrated. “You think you might find these bastards so
we can get back to work? I hate that all of this shit now involves
my family.” Honestly, it isn’t my family that I'm only worried
about. I must protect Breesan. “Sorry man it's just…”

"It's fucked up. Yeah, I get
it," he says cutting me off as he drops the file on Rhys'
desk.
“Well man, I just reviewed the investigators
preliminary and skimmed through the photographs from the crime
scene. I’m going by the house after we're done here, but I would
like to know if y'all have anything else to add.” He scans the
faces of my team.

“
Marcus,” Sam starts and something
about her cautious tone sets off warning signals. I jerk my head
around, finding concern in her eyes as she says, “There's a lot of
shit about this whole situation that is not adding up, little
brother. Unfortunately it appears to circle around Breesan
Maxwell.”