Switched (Sin City Fets Book 1) Read online

  “Has your uncle seen you lately?”

  “No, I’ll go see him in a couple weeks at Isabella’s birthday party. I’ve been busy working, and busting my ass trying to save yours.”

  “I’m a lost cause, little one.”

  I whip my head up at what he’s just said to me, staring blades into the idiot who sits before me. “No, you are a lost cause when your body is cold and ready to be put in the ground. Don’t come at me with that fucking bullshit old man. You should know better than to say anything like that to me. While this has been a pleasure, I should get going before I dig my acrylics in your eyeballs and get my ass thrown in the slammer. Love you, asshole.” I rise from my seat and head out of the room before he can even get a word out. Hopefully this time he knows how badly he hurt my feelings. What would be even better is if he actually cared.

  Chapter 8

  Drake

  You can never tell the time of day or night in a casino, because the sinful city of Las Vegas never sleeps. It’s alive and fully awake twenty-four/seven, three hundred sixty-five days a year. But I know its three in the morning, only because my Rolex watch tells me, as I sit comfortably at a bar in Caesar’s Palace. The only company I have is the pretty blond bartender, Trudy, keeping my glass filled with twelve-year old scotch, neat.

  I raise the glass, taking another sip and close my eyes, to tune out the dinging alarms, people’s voices, and all the electronic sounds and warble of slot machines. Just so I can picture Candace as she looked this afternoon. She was dressed in a bold orange blouse, on purpose I’m sure, on her way to see her dear old Dad in Federal Prison. And the way she smelled, like a combination of cinnamon and nutmeg.

  That same spicy scent hits me in a heartbeat and I know she’s behind me. The ornate patterned carpet muted the clicking of her black heels, but it’s Candace, in the flesh. She plants that nice ass of hers on the stool next to mine and asks Trudy for a martini with those salty green olives.

  “Put that one, and the rest on my tab, Trudy.”

  The side of Candace’s lip tilts up, but her eyes look sad. “Thanks Drake.” Her voice has a feminine huskiness to it, making me become semi-hard under the bar.

  “I can see it didn’t go so well with your father today”

  She shrugs her right shoulder. “It is what it is.” She takes a sip of her martini and squeezes her eyes shut. “And it can’t get any worse than it is now.”

  Oh, how I want so badly to wrap my hand around her throat at that moment and squeeze it just a bit. To possess her. To protect her. But instead, I place my hand on her knee underneath the bar and squeezed, just a bit. “Talk to me, Candace. I’m a good listener.”

  Her sweet lips open, telling me she likes my touch. “Listening is the characteristic of a good and attentive Dom.”

  “That I am, Candace. That I am. So, you have my full attention.”

  I realize that it’s hard to listen to her sexy voice, when I’m touching her, smelling her. But I’m in control of my senses. They don’t control me.

  “I got him the best defense attorney money can buy here in Vegas, but he just keeps fucking things up for himself. He punched out an inmate last week.”

  “Ouch. Not good.”

  She closes her eyes again, shaking her head, “Everything I’ve done for him all these years! Even when I was just a child! Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  When she opens her eyes and stars back at mine it’s like a punch in the gut. I move closer, pulling her to me, wrapping my arm around her. “Yes. It should be Candace.”

  I can feel her sadness. I lift her chin to look into those beautiful eyes. “You shouldn’t have to bear all that weight by yourself. Lean on me, just for right now.”

  I lean in and brush her pouty lips with mine. Then again. She sighs or mews like a kitten and I can’t hold back any longer. I’m off my stool and press her to me, driving my tongue into her enticing mouth. She tastes like gin and vermouth.

  Then she pulls away, breathless, eyes darting all over me. She’s searching for an answer, but I suppose she isn’t going to find it unless I give one to her. “Drake! What the hell? No, we can’t do this. We’re too much alike.”

  I can’t help but frown at her. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “I don’t give up control, ever. I’m as much a Dominant as you are. What were you even thinking?”

  “I want to taste you Candace. Just let go for a short moment. Let go of the reins. All I’m asking for is a moment, no more than that.” Something comes over Candace’s features, almost like she is contemplating what I’ve said. As her shoulders relax and she places her forehead to my chest, I know that she’s giving me control, just for a moment. My heart pounds hard and fast like a fucking freight train in my chest and I wrap my arms around her again, just letting her breathe.

  She looks up at me again, like an invitation to take over. So, I do and kiss her again, but this time my tongue is on a mission to plunder and possess her enticing mouth. Her head drops back farther, and her arms fold inward, between us so that I’m cradling her. Now my dick is a raging beast, wanting to invade and conquer every part of her.

  Candace relaxes in against me as our lips and tongues collide. I shift my hips and claim hers thrusting just once. She gasps, as her eyes open. They’re glossed over and full of heated fire. I knew she had it in her, I’d just never expected to see them up close and personal, igniting for me.

  And just like that, she pushes me away. “This was only one time. It won’t happen again.” She finishes her martini, snatches her purse and walks away.

  I beckon Trudy over. “Fill me another glass of that good scotch, sweetheart.”

  The taste of the scotch calms my raging hard on and I admit to myself that this bet I made is what motivates me to switch Candace because I’ve always wanted to possess her, protect her, and watch her surrender to me. And I will chisel down that high wall she surrounds herself with and make her submit to me. Bet or not. She’ll be mine one way or another.

  ***

  Candace

  I don’t know what in the hell came over me or why I would even allow Drake to get as close as he just did. Physically, there was no denying we were close… but I let him in emotionally, something that I haven’t allowed a man to do in years. I guess we can think my father and my fucked-up daddy issues for that though. The last time I let a man in my life I ended up getting heartbroken. It wasn’t as bad as Drake’s last heartbreak, but it was pretty damn close.

  It was before I really knew what I was, and in the process of discovering my dominance, almost every part of me had been broken. Like a shattered vase, obliterated into a million tiny pieces.

  It’s not that I have trust issues, I don’t whatsoever. What I have a problem with… or difficulty with… is allowing myself to become vulnerable. Especially after there has been so much pain in my past.

  For a split second I felt it, the moment where the weight of the world falls off your shoulders and onto someone else. That someone was Drake, the absolute last person I should have ever let in. Even if it was only just for a moment.

  Instead of drowning myself in the bottle I went to the one person who I knew that I could find comfort in, or rather the one place that I could.

  Only a few miles out of town is the one person on earth who I can always speak to and find peace. She may not respond, but in my heart, I know that she’s listening, and encouraging me with anything I choose to do.

  I pull my Lexus up to the gravesite and put it in park, exiting my car and slowly approach her. I have to admit, as a kid I made a good choice when it came to her gravestone. I may have only been sixteen at the time, but my Dad made choices that led up to my mother being put in the ground in the first place. Even back then I wasn’t going to allow him to fuck anything else up. I knew what she would’ve wanted. After all, I always did.

  I kneel on the ground, tracing my fingertips over the stone, trying to remember how it felt to be touching her skin i
nstead of this rugged chunk of rock. I’d give up so much just to hug her one more time, to ask her the things that I should have at that age. Instead I ended up living with regrets, and so many at that. Regret because the last conversation we had was where I told her that I hated her and wished she was dead. Regret because I wasn’t one of those kids that told their Mom that they loved them every day. There were so many regrets… so many things that I will never be able to change and wish that I could.

  “You’d know exactly what to say to me right now… and you have no idea how much I need it. How much I need you.”

  Chapter 9

  Drake

  I leave Caesar’s after three more rounds of scotch, climbing into my Porsche Boxster and drive by Candace’s penthouse. I want to make sure she got to her penthouse safely. I sensed all the distress and sadness she carried like a dead weight on her shoulders, as I held her before she hiked up those solid walls around her again and left. I don’t see her car, and immediately make a U-turn, driving far above the city speed limit to the one place I know she will be.

  Dawn breaks now as I park behind Candace’s car at the cemetery where her mother is buried. I find her sitting on the grass looking at her mother’s gravestone. She tips a near empty bottle of Gin and guzzles what’s left, then wipes the top of her hand across her pouty red lips.

  “I knew I would find you here.”

  She jumps, and spins to the sound of my voice, and sees me standing only a few feet away. “Drake! You scared the shit out me!” She slurs her words, but I can still make out exactly what she’s saying. Candace has always been able to hold her liquor, so to see her in this state is shocking.

  I step closer to her, pulling her up against me, “You shouldn’t be out here alone, especially after you’ve finished a full bottle of Gin! Where are your fucking keys?” I can’t help but snap at her. She’s many things, but one thing Candace is never, is reckless. She’s being careless of her own safety. I fight the urge to throw her across my lap, hike up her skirt, and spank that delectable ass of hers so hard she wouldn’t be able to sit for a fucking week. Actually, screw a week. She doesn’t deserve to sit comfortably for well over a month for compromising not only her safety, but others. Imagine what would have happened if I didn’t show up and find her like this. She could have gotten back behind the wheel and... I don’t even want to think of the things that could’ve happened.

  She doesn’t pull away. She just stares up at me and becomes still, her eyes a bit glossy. I know a little bit about her past – that her mother was killed when she was only sixteen years old, by a business associate of her father’s.

  Candace starts to giggle then, swaying a bit. She’s blackout drunk, her voice a bit slurred. “I liked what you did at the bar, even though I shouldn’t. I see more between us than just kink. Sometimes I feel that my dominant side will eat away at my life until there’s nothing left of me. I don’t want to be the one holding the reigns all the time. I need more... I need someone to protect me like I protect others...”

  I grip her slender arms to steady her. “What do you need Candace? It’s okay. You can tell me.”

  She looks up at me, eyes unwavering before she whispers, but loud enough for me to hear. “I want the white picket fence... I want that boring life... and I want to have children. I’m so exhausted of keeping up my walls all the time. I don’t want a submissive to come home to at the end of every day. I need... I need someone to take care of me for a change. I need a dominant... I want the vanilla life, with the kinky sprinkles. I need you Drake... or maybe I don’t need you... maybe I want you. I want you and I shouldn’t.” Her bottom lip quivers, and suddenly she breaks down. Wetness spills from her eyes, and down her flushed cheeks. I wipe a tear with the pad of my thumb, dip down and brush my lips across hers, tasting her salty tears.

  She flings her arms over my shoulders, as my tongue slides in between her lips, tasting her. My cock hardens instantly when she moans in my mouth. I press her to me, feeling how soft and vulnerable she is in this moment.

  Her guarded walls come down again, but that is only because she’s drunk. I pull away, to see her eyes close, her head leaning back.

  “Come on Candace. I’ll drive you home.” She whines a bit but clings on to me as I half carry her to my car, sliding her into the front seat of my Porsche.

  I get her to her penthouse apartment, following her closely as she staggers into her bedroom, kicking off her stilettos. I switch the light on as she sits on the edge of her bed. I move closer, standing over her.

  Her head falls back to look up at me, “Please stay with me tonight Drake?” She’s pleading with me.

  My hard cock strains against the front of my pants, as I look into her eyes, so vulnerable in this moment. Candace places her soft cheek against my hardness. “I will beg for you Drake. I will do as I’m told.”

  I place my hand on the back of her head, caressing her beautiful long dark hair. I know that we as humans, act on our instincts when we’re drunk. But oh, how I want to see her on her knees, with her palms open on her lap for me.

  My voice is low as I try to stay in control of my own feelings for her. “No Candace. Not tonight. You need to be sober and in the right frame of mind to decide if this is what you want.”

  I lean down, pulling her from me and lay her down on the bed. “Close your eyes and sleep Candace.” I kiss her on her forehead as her eyes flutter and close.

  I walk to door and turn around to look at her before I switch the light off and leave her apartment. Every primal instinct is telling me to stay, but I know that I can’t. The only thing that gets me through leaving her tonight is knowing that she’s finally admitted that she wants to be mine.

  Candace wants me, and I’ll have her.

  Chapter 10

  Candace

  My head pounds like there are a million little trolls inside chipping away for gold. I open my eyes slowly, the aching getting worse. As my vision clears, I see there isn’t even a light on in my room and my curtains are fully closed, giving me the darkness, I so desperately need in this moment. I slide my hands under me, pulling myself up into a sitting position when my stomach starts to churn. A small warning of what’s to come. I can’t even make it ten seconds without having to grab the trash can next to my bed. I guess that’s what I get for over drinking last night. Shit, I haven’t drank like that in years. Not since my old party days. I glance over and see my cell phone sitting on my bedside table, grabbing it I look at the time. It’s already one in the afternoon. Shit. I missed my appointment with Chase. I go into my messages really quick and shoot him a quick text, apologizing for my lack of communication and tell him I’ve had a bad night but that I’m okay. I know him well and he’ll only worry about my wellbeing.

  For some reason, a reason that I can’t pinpoint... I decide to text the subs who I have scheduled appointments with for the next week and cancel. Last night really fucked with my head and I know that I’ll be no good to any of them, not when my headspace is all over the place. I place my phone down on my pillow as I rise, my body screaming at me with every inch that I move. Before I’m even a couple feet away from my bed I can hear my phone buzzing against my silk pillowcase. I’ll check it in a few minutes after I’m showered and have Advil in me.

  I walk into the kitchen and go to the cupboard where all my medicines are kept, I grab two Advil and take them with water. My stomach twists as they go down and I know that eating right now won’t do me any good, so instead I head straight to the shower. Hopefully after I move for a little bit my body may start recovering. Odds are that it won’t, but alas I have plenty of electrolyte water in my fridge.

  I turn the water on in the shower, making sure it’s boiling hot just as I like it. Quickly, I strip out of the chemise I’m in and kneel down at the bottom of the shower, allowing the hot water to cascade over my body, washing away everything that happened the night before. I don’t remember everything, but I do remember bits and pieces. Like me confessing my
deepest, darkest needs to Drake. I pull my legs out from under me and sit at the bottom of the shower. The water calms me down, relaxing me in ways that I can’t even describe. I don’t remember getting home, so I try to piece together the broken bits of last night. It’s no use though, there’s no way I’ll be able to remember all of it. I was trashed.

  I stand up, washing my hair and body quickly but not too fast. I don’t want to make myself even more nauseous and end up vomiting again. I’m such a chicken when it comes to throw up. I turn the water off after my hair is suds free and wrap myself up in a towel, blow drying my hair enough but still leaving it a bit damp.

  I walk back into my kitchen and grab an electrolyte water from the fridge. I always keep them around because they’re great for your body, but it doesn’t hurt to have them on hand for a surprise hangover as well. When I turn around, that’s when I notice my car keys on the island. Sitting next to it is a note. I make my way over, but just as I grab the fine paper in my hand, my doorbell rings. I set the note back down and walk over to my door, opening it I see Juan, my doorman.

  “Afternoon, Madame.” He smiles, holding up the bag in his hands. I nod and he makes his way in my apartment, setting the bag on the kitchen island. I fetch my wallet and pull out a twenty to tip Juan with for bringing me my food. As he leaves, and I shut the door behind him, I can smell French toast hit my senses, and surprisingly enough I don’t want to vomit at the thought of it.

  I grab the container from the bag and open it, seeing an omelet with French toast on the side. I walk over to where the note is. Silverware is inside the container, so as I open the silverware with one hand, I open the note with the other.