Free Smoke and Mirrors by Tiana Laveen Page A

eyes. “Well, I’ll see what I can arrange. I’ll have to figure this shit out as soon as possible.”
    “You will, Smoke, you always do…” She flirted with him, smiling garishly as she snaked her limber fingers into his pants.
    “Mmmmmm! Yeeees, Baby! There’s that big white snake I’ve been looking for! Big ass cock! Yeeeeessssss!”
    Her touch felt like nothing. This was also becoming a growing concern. Sex with the ladies just didn’t do it for him anymore. Something wasn’t right, something was missing, and it had become a strain, a great effort, to even do what he used to enjoy first thing in the morning…a nice, hard fuck. Felicia was onto him with her suspicions, no matter how in denial he was about the situation. In the midst of this new state of mind, and a damn brothel located right across the street from the new apartment building he’d procured, he was the one about to get it good if he didn’t set a plan in motion, and fast…
    *
    Paris Raven stood at the entranceway of One West Bank on north La Brea. Her sleeveless, lacey black blouse blew ever so slightly in the refreshing breeze. It had been so humid as of late, this slight cold front proved a breath of fresh air. She adjusted her dark sunglasses, tugged a little at the hem of her fitted black skirt and ran a hand smoothly over her straight hair, pulled taut into a high, glossy bun. After a moment squinting up at the sun, she placed the bank receipts inside her clutch as she waited for her limousine. Second after second passed, until she found herself cursing under her breath.
    “Where the hell is Art?” She crossed her ankles and leaned up against the brick wall, feeling a bit like a vagabond. Growing wearier, she attempted to step back inside the place, get in some air conditioning and shade, and ring her driver once again. When she yanked open the heavy bank door to return inside, her gaze fell on something she wasn’t the least bit prepared for. There stood a tall, handsome son of a bitch with the most unusual shade of blue eyes she’d ever seen in her entire life. Worse yet, his gaze was penetrating, as if he had X-ray vision and could see right down to her lacy pale pink and black polka dot thong. The big bastard was blocking her way, her view and her ability to speak. His aquamarine eyes shined and shimmered like freshly rolled tides from the ocean, and the smirk he sported she found unnerving and sexy all at the same damn time.
    “Excuse me,” she uttered, finally finding her vocal chords as they began to clumsily dance around one another.
    “My apologies,” he rasped.
    His. Damn. Voice.
    Deep, baritone, yet sensitive and suave all at once… His dark hair was brushed away from his face, showcasing high cheekbones and a jawline she could cut a damn diamond wide open with.
    He held the door further open for her, and she promptly entered, refusing to look back. It had been a long time since a man had made her do a double take, pause, lose her damn voice, swoon and trip over words unspoken. Besides, men were her business. She saw them every day, all day, and was rather bored with their existence in the world. Well, this man did awe her.
    So what? Life goes on.
    She made her way to a comfortable chair and had a seat before pulling her phone out of her purse to find out what hole Art had fallen into. Unfortunately, a shadow soon loomed over her, blocking her light, and making her pulse elevate ever so slightly.
    “May I help you?” she asked without looking up, toying with her phone and jonesing for a strong ass drink in the worst way…
    “I was hoping I could help you , actually.” At that, she took a gander at the fellow, slowly lifting her gaze.
    He smiled and slid big hands into his pockets. Even his teeth were fucking perfect. There was no doubt he’d had some professional work done. People simply weren’t born that way. She liked the bastard’s sincere smile, it suited him. Yet she knew his damn kind; matter of fact, it