The Fall of Legend Read online

  “How often do you do it?”

  She shrugs. “As often as I can safely. It’s hard to keep a low profile in Manhattan’s street-racing community, so I race in Jersey and Pennsylvania too.”

  “You’re living a double life!”

  Flynn slants her head and meets my gaze. “Aren’t you too? I mean, you and this Legend guy? That’s like an alternate reality, Scar.”

  I press my lips together and think of the white dress I’m going to put on tomorrow night before we head to the club. The dress that I’ve never been able to wear in my normal life. Maybe Flynn’s right.

  “Does it matter if it’s a double life, as long as I’m living?” The question is rhetorical, but Flynn answers anyway.

  “No. Not at all. You’ve always been so perfect and straitlaced. When our parents first got married, I have to admit, I didn’t really like you. You were the ideal I would never be and didn’t want to be.”

  I reach out to cover her hand with mine on the chipped Formica table. “I’m sorry you felt that way, Flynn. I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t . . .”

  She shakes her head to silence me. “Don’t worry about it, Scar. Our parents couldn’t make that shit work, even if they’d both been trying instead of secretly looking for an exit. But, hey, we’re here now, and I’m cool with that. Maybe we should just make plans to meet up at Dolly’s a couple times a month. We can have our own breakfast club. The legendary breakfast club.”

  A flush rises up my face at the play on Legend’s name, but I just nod. “That sounds perfect, Flynn. It’s a date.”

  Fifty-Two

  Legend

  “Today’s the day! She’s coming back!” For the last forty-eight hours, Bump has been bouncing around like a kid hopped up on sugar and counting down to Christmas.

  Me? Well, I’m fucking counting down too.

  The text waiting on my phone this morning was enough to send me straight to the shower to take care of business.

  * * *

  Scarlett: I hope you’re ready for me tonight, because I’m beyond ready for you.

  * * *

  All I can picture is her laid out on my bed, telling me those words with a blush climbing her cheeks. Which is why I had to jack off before I came like a teenager in my pants.

  I shouldn’t be on such a hair trigger for her, but I can’t help it. Scarlett is everything I never knew I could want. Hell, I didn’t know women like her existed. She’s . . .

  So fucking out of your league, the voice in my head fills in for me.

  I want to tell it to shut the hell up, but Q is right outside my office, no doubt waiting for another chance to tell me to keep my dick in my pants because Scarlett Priest isn’t for me.

  But Q doesn’t get it. All week, Scarlett and I have been texting and getting to know each other. It hasn’t even been dirty. We’ve talked about a ton of different shit, from my dog to her never having owned a pet, to flea markets and the best places to get dim sum in the city.

  In all my years since I lost my virginity and women became a goal, I’ve never connected with one like this on a totally nonsexual level, while wanting to get inside her so badly that I don’t think I’ll make it another day without at least tasting her again.

  But what about Jorie?

  That fucking voice in my head that’s not Jorie is pissing me off today, because it insists on making constant comparisons between the two women. But the truth is—there is no way to compare.

  Jorie was a girl from a foster family with a voice that could have taken her all the way to the top. She and I were just fucking kids when we decided we were it for each other. I was going to build her a club where she could sing every night, and together we’d live this insane life of limos and champagne, and she’d be dripping with diamonds.

  That’s the kind of shit you think about when you’re a kid, growing up with your stomach always growling because there’s never enough food to go around. We dreamed of the shit we saw on TV and in magazines. They were all just fantasies for kids with stars in their eyes.

  Reality isn’t like that.

  I was hustling, trying to get us enough money to get out of Biloxi so we could go to LA and Jorie could try to get a record deal. Then I fucked over the wrong guy. Moses Buford Gaspard.

  And he took everything from me.

  That’s how shit worked in Biloxi. If you reached too high above your station, you got knocked the fuck back down so hard that you wouldn’t ever try to reach again.

  But after we ran, after Jorie was gone, I put all those dreams front and center in my head. I was going to build that club we talked about, and I was going to be somebody no one would ever fuck with. Then we got to New York, and I realized I wasn’t the only guy in this town with big fucking dreams. At least it was a place where shit was happening and there were opportunities.

  So little by little, I stashed away cash from hustling and then fighting. Until the fights got bigger and bigger and I staked a club of my own. It grew and made good money, but being illegal, it could never be good enough. I had to go legit.

  And here I am, once again, reaching high as hell above my station.

  What if you get Scarlett killed too? What then, big man?

  I turn to Bump, where he’s brushing Roux in the corner. “Where’s Zoe?”

  “I dunno.”

  “She’s talking to the servers before the doors open,” Q replies from the doorway. “Why? You have another extra-special request for Ms. Perfect?”

  “Would you get off my dick about her, man? Jesus Christ,” I snap at Q.

  “Yeah, Q, what’s your deal?” Bump asks as Roux thumps her tail. “She’s pretty, and he likes her. Can’t he just like a pretty girl?”

  Q’s gaze shoots to Bump and then back to me. “You know I’m on your side. Always, brother.”

  I incline my head, indicating he can keep going if he’s got more to say. And knowing Q, he’s always got more to say.

  “This girl is different, man. She doesn’t live in the same world as the rest of us. She doesn’t play by the same rules. If she wants something, she barely has to think about it. It just shows up in front of her like the tooth fairy brought it.”

  Then it hits me. “This isn’t about Scarlett, is it, Q? This is about you.”

  His expression darkens. “I’m only warning you because I know what it’s like when a spoiled little rich girl sees you and wants to take a walk on the wild side. Yeah, I’ve been there. And no, it doesn’t fucking work out for guys like us.”

  “Oh, Q. Did a girl break your heart?” The totally sincere question comes from Bump. “I had no idea, buddy. That’s so mean.”

  Q rolls his eyes at the kid and keeps talking. “Just watch yourself. You’ve kept every woman at arm’s length for a fucking long time for a reason, Gabe. I just want to make sure you’re not setting yourself up for a fall.”

  “He’s already falling. They text all the time. He gets this look on his face every time his phone buzzes.”

  This time, I glare at Bump and the dopey expression he’s making. The kid doesn’t know when to keep his fucking mouth shut.

  Q’s expression takes on a new level of concern at Bump’s admission. “If you want to bang her, fucking bang her. Get it out of your system. But whatever you do, don’t let her in. You keep your circle small on purpose, Gabe. Remember why.”

  With a nod at me, Q ducks out of the doorway, and I frown at Bump.

  “Did you really have to tell him that?”

  “Q’s family. He just wants what’s best for us.”

  Leaving the office, I walk up toward the VIP section, under the guise of wanting to make sure everything is ready to go. Down on the floor, Q and Zoe are meeting with the staff and security.

  I slip my hand into the pocket of my black slacks and pull out my phone.

  * * *

  Legend: I’m ready for you, ladybug. See you soon.

  Fifty-Three

  Scarlett

  The lop-e
ared bunnies are tap-dancing in my stomach as we approach the club. Harlow, Monroe, and Kelsey went all out, posting where we’d be tonight and making sure everyone who’s anyone will be at Legend.

  Gabriel’s club is going to be safe. At least, as safe as I can make it.

  I just wish I could say the same for my heart. Because it’s in serious jeopardy.

  “I can’t believe you told Flynn she couldn’t come. She’s almost twenty-one, and her fake ID is damn good.”

  I glance at Monroe sitting in the row behind me and Kelsey. “He asked me to help save the club, not bring in known minors to give the cops a reason to close the club down or fine him.”

  “Like they’d ever find out.”

  “Leave it alone, Monroe. We’ve got more important things to worry about tonight,” Harlow says, shutting Monroe up.

  “Yes! Because Scarlett’s getting laid tonight!” Kelsey yells, and the cheers and screams in the SUV nearly deafen me.

  “You guys! Stop. You’ll make me lose my nerve.”

  “Not a chance. We all saw how you danced with him, and I know you, Scar. You don’t let anything stop you from getting what you want. Legend is going to find out exactly what that’s like tonight.”

  More cheering fills the cabin of the Escalade as we turn the corner to pull up to the building that houses Legend, which looks like a Roman temple.

  I turn to look at Monroe, who is checking her lipstick in a compact in the back seat. “Is Nate really coming with some of the team tonight?”

  “He’s definitely coming, but I don’t know about the other players. They had that charity thing, so there’s a good chance they’ll want to get loaded and have fun after. We’ll see. If they’re not here by midnight, they’re probably not coming.”

  I make a mental note to look around at midnight to see if they made it . . . and then a dreamy smile stretches my lips. What if I’m gone by midnight?

  It’s ten thirty right now. I have absolutely no idea how long it takes to seduce a man, but I’m giving it my best shot.

  The Escalade rolls to a stop at the curb, and it’s a completely different scene from last week. The line behind the velvet rope goes down the street and wraps around the corner. A red carpet is rolled out to the curb, and paparazzi stand near the street, anxious to get a shot of whichever VIPs arrive next.

  Kelsey reaches over to squeeze my hand. “Are you ready to do this?”

  My hair and makeup are perfect. Kelsey made sure of that. I glance down at my white dress, knowing the fabric is going to shimmer under the lights and make me look better than I may have ever looked in my entire life.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do it.”

  Ten minutes later, we’re in the VIP section of the club with champagne flutes in hand, and the girls are chattering with friends who arrived before us. The DJ is killing it, and the dance floor is packed.

  A warm feeling washes over me, because I helped make this happen. Gabriel’s club is a hot spot again, and that’s a reason to celebrate.

  I take a step toward Kelsey and the railing that looks down over the dance floor, but the hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and I pause.

  He’s here.

  Slowly, like I’m afraid I’ll spook a wild animal, I turn in the opposite direction.

  The dim lighting leaves him mostly in shadows, but he’s never looked more devastating. Black slacks, black shirt open at the throat, a silver watch glinting at his wrist, and his dark blond hair slicked back against his head.

  Oh. My. God.

  My mouth actually waters at the sight of him.

  From his posture, he looks like an arrogant god, come down from Mount Olympus to survey the humans out of pure boredom. At least, until I get to his eyes. The piercing blue rakes over my body, and his nostrils flare as his chest rises and falls. Each breath seems more labored than the last.

  It’s the breathing that gives me confidence. I walk toward him, my hips swaying, closing the distance one measured step at a time. In the dim light of the club, I can barely make out the pulse at the base of his neck, but I’m pretty damn sure it ticks faster the closer I get.

  Thank God. Because I couldn’t handle it if I were the only one falling apart inside right now.

  He holds up a hand like he wants me to stop, and I freeze where I stand. His eyes rake up and down my body, as if he’s memorizing exactly how I look. I wait one beat, two, then three . . . until he finally moves.

  His hand slides into mine and he pulls me close, until I can feel the heat radiating off his body.

  “Fuck. Me. You look incredible.” His voice is normal volume, but competing with the din of the club, it sounds like a whisper.

  My nipples peak, and even the lining of the dress and the built-in bra cups won’t be able to prevent him from seeing how much he affects me.

  “You look pretty amazing yourself,” I tell him, squeezing his fingers.

  “I can’t see you like this. Not with people around us. I can’t be held responsible for what I’ll do to you if you turn around and I see the back of that dress.”

  I don’t know if the devil’s riding on my shoulder, or if I’m just hedging my bets, but I pull away from him and slowly turn around in a move that would make Bad Scarlett proud. “You mean like this?”

  “Fuck.” The word comes out raw and guttural, but I don’t have a moment to appreciate it.

  Suddenly, his hand is back in mine and I’m being pulled away from the VIP section to an alcove in the corner, where he pins me against the wall with his front to my back and his lips at my ear.

  “I have never faced temptation this strong and been able to walk away.” His breath tickles my skin, raising goose bumps all over my neck.

  “Maybe that’s exactly what I was planning,” I tell him, turning my head so our lips are only an inch apart.

  His palm wraps around my thigh, a few inches above the knee, and glides upward until it’s under the hem of my dress.

  “I sure as hell hope so. Because if you want me to let you go, you’re going to have to say so right now.”

  His fingers move so close to the burning heat of my center that I can barely form a conscious thought.

  “Please . . .” I whisper the word against his lips, and his fingertips ghost over the tiny scrap of lace I wore for modesty’s sake. But there’s absolutely nothing modest about what I’m feeling right now.

  “Oh, fuck. Me. Jesus Christ, you’re so hot,” he growls in my ear. “You want me to touch you? Right here? Where anyone can see us?”

  I totally forgot where we were. If someone came over to this alcove, there’d be no question that something private was happening. Old Scarlett, the Scarlett who existed before Gabriel Legend, would have freaked out, but with his hand hovering over my pussy while my body is going up in flames . . . I don’t care at all.

  “Please. Touch me.” I arch my back, pushing my ass against him, and the hard shaft of his cock presses against me.

  “How the hell could I say no to you?”

  The pad of one of his fingers makes contact with my panties, sliding up and down my slit, until a moan breaks free from my throat as my head drops back against his shoulder.

  “Oh God.” My hips buck against him, my body trapped between his hand and his cock, and the need that’s been climbing all day flares into an inferno. One more brush over my clit and I’m poised to come, just like that.

  How is this even possible?

  “Fuck, ladybug. You are a goddamned miracle.” The rough timbre of his voice in my ear, combined with the sizzle of his breath over my skin and the added pressure on my clit, snaps my control.

  My entire body shakes as the orgasm washes over me. Gabriel wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his body, holding me tight as I ride it out. As soon as I stop shaking, he spins me in his arms and crushes his lips against mine.

  The kiss is feral, totally out of control, and completely not fit for an audience.

  I couldn�
��t care less.

  I didn’t even notice Q standing behind Gabriel until he clears his throat and Gabriel’s mouth releases mine.

  “Take this off the floor before you get attention you don’t want.”

  Gabriel growls something at him, and then we’re on the move again—but this time, through a door I didn’t even know was there. Moments later, I’m almost running to keep up as he rushes down a corridor made up of two-way mirrors on one side through which you can see the entire VIP section. I remember the day I met with Zoe and thought I felt someone watching us.

  He was here. Behind this glass. I don’t need an admission to know it’s the truth. I felt it. That’s how attuned to him I am. And the fact that I don’t ask him where we’re going shows exactly how much I trust him.

  Two minutes later, he pulls me into that wood-paneled office from the very first day and shuts the door behind him.

  We’ve come full circle. This is where it all started.

  Except the man in front of me no longer elicits fear. No, I feel something completely different now.

  Because he’s mine. And tonight, I’m claiming him.

  Gabriel stalks toward me, and I back up until my ass connects with the desk. With one hand planted on either side, I lean back.

  My words are bold, and I own them. “This is happening. You and me. Right now.”

  Fifty-Four

  Legend

  “Fuck yes, it’s happening right now. Jesus fucking Christ, Scarlett. You walk into my club looking like you just stepped off a cloud from the heavens, and any chance I had of keeping my head is fucking gone. You’re a goddamned angel, and I don’t even deserve to touch you, but I don’t care. This is happening. You and me.”