Chapter 1 #2
“He hasn’t even opened his wallet once,” Dante says into my ear.
“The son of a bitch drank one entire bottle of cognac and is guzzling the second, and still hasn’t given me anything we can use.
But I swear, if he talks about fucking Raquel while his boys watch one more time, I’m gonna bash him on the head with that bottle, then make him swallow the glass.
And I know what I said last time, to hold me back and shit, but fuck that, let me kill him. ”
“Damn, man.” I chuckle, finally looking at him. “You sound like you got it bad. Protecting her honor and shit.”
His face bends with a grimace as he backs up a couple of inches. “I don’t.”
“Okay, liar.”
“Whatever. I just can’t stand the thought of that nasty-ass fuck thinking he can have a woman like that, let alone do the kind of shit he plans to do once they’re married.”
I glance back at Carlito, whose hunger is back on the stripper’s ass, while her eyes carelessly roam around the club, glazed with the same layer of cloudiness I saw before.
I wonder what she’s thinking about. Is she counting down until she can go home? Does she have someone to go home to? I envy that. It’d be nice to have a woman to come home to. Someone who’s not after my money or my cock, just me.
I keep staring while her eyes wander straight ahead. She’s gorgeous, with all that wavy golden hair spilling down her back. Her curves built for a man, a man like me.
Before I could turn back around to my brother, her bright blue gaze fixes on mine, and I’m unable to look away from her eyes once again. They’re the color of the hottest fires burning like the sun. They’re beautiful. Warm. Inviting. Deadly as hell.
A woman this stunning.
This sinful.
Sure knows how to destroy a man.
Both of us are caught in this trance, where nothing else seems to exist, at least not for me. It’s as though she can read my thoughts, knowing I can see her, truly see her, not just her body, which I definitely see too.
Is she wondering about me? Does she think I’m a prick, like all the rest here?
Strip clubs are normally not my thing. As much as I love women, I don’t care to see them take off their clothes for everyone in the room. I want them to strip for me alone because they want to, not because they have to.
Carlito’s hands are back on her hips, sliding to her stomach, pushing himself closer. I want to wrench him off her. I wanna break his fucking bones.
I drag in a long, deep inhale instead, attempting to steady the rage.
Her jaw strains for a brief second before she flips her head back seductively, her long, thick hair spreading over his chest as she grinds on his dick. He glides his hand up her thigh, too close to the thin red thong that barely covers her.
She’s not that into you, asshole. She’s just pretending. Not like a fucker like him would care anyway.
She clearly hates this job, and I wish I could help somehow.
Once the song is over, she curls around, kissing him on the cheek with a grin as she rises, and he hands her two singles with a slap on her ass.
Is this cheap motherfucker joking?
Two. Fucking. Dollars?
Dante’s right. He should kill him.
Now I’m the one who wants to pick up that bottle and bash it over his head.
She peers down at the crumbled-up bills in her hand and stuffs them in her panty before walking away, while he talks to the men seated beside him.
I ball a fist tightly.
I should end him right now. Dante will forgive me for taking that away from him. Eventually.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell my brother, who nods once, carelessly staring ahead, thumping his head to the beat, rolling closer to Carlito in hopes of getting more info out of him, no doubt.
I follow the woman who had the unfortunate luck of dancing with that cocksucker.
“Hey, miss, wait up,” I call loudly over the blasting song.
She turns on her high heels, appearing only a few inches shorter than my six-four.
Her brow arches, a smile flirting over the slant of her full red lips.
She’s in a fucking see-through bra. I’m really trying hard to look at her face instead.
Attempting to be a gentleman in a place full of naked women ain’t easy.
I may not like coming here, but I still have eyes.
“Yes, handsome?” She props a hand on her hip, her long black-painted fingernails curving over it. “Would you like to buy a dance, too?”
“Maybe next time.” I smirk. “I only came to give you this.” Reaching into my pants pocket, I retrieve my wallet, opening it up and taking out a few hundreds. “This is for you.” I outstretch my hand.
Squinting inquisitively, her eyes dart between me and the stack of money. “Is this some kind of test or something?” She takes a few steps closer, that fake flirtatious mask she just wore is now gone. Instead, I find a dash of fear interspersed with annoyance.
“Do I look like a teacher to you?” I grin. “That idiot back there gave you two damn dollars,” I explain. “This is my way of fixing it.”
She gives the money a curious look, peeking back up at me.
“I hope you know we’re not friends,” I add. “That asshole and me. I mean, not even a little. I don’t keep friends like that.”
She fixes me with a softened stare, her lips twitching. “You’re cute. And for some strange reason, I believe you.”
I lower my arm, the money still in my grasp. “Cute?” I nod contemplatively, my mouth bending with a smile, loving hers. “Not the word I was hoping for, but coming from you, I’ll take it.” I angle in closer until I’m only a hand away. “I have a feeling you don’t throw out compliments that freely.”
She nears her lips to my ear, and I have to battle to keep my palms at my sides instead of her hips. “Am I that easy to read?” Her breath skitters up my skin. Heated. Enticing. I don’t know if this is her way of setting me off, but it’s working.
“You are to me.” My voice rises over the smooth column of her neck, my hand losing the fight as my fingers inadvertently graze her hip. Just a touch. That’s all I’ve had. And yet, my fingertips tingle, like I’ve never touched a woman before.
“Really?” That one word is feathery soft, drenched in an erotic tone, the sound going right to my cock, making it throb, chafing in my jeans.
“Mm-hmm.” My pulse jumps a beat.
“What else can you tell about me?” She tips her head sideways, giving me more of her throat, her words louder now, straining over the hammering of the music.
I draw back, needing to see her eyes, needing to drown in the waves of her gaze. “I can tell you’re probably lonely. And you clearly hate working here. You’re only doing it because you don’t have a choice.”
I lift my free hand to her face, the money still clutched within it, as my thumb cruises down her cheek.
Her chest rises and falls like a wild storm, her lips parting as my eyes settle on hers, our gazes melded as I continue.
“You show the world only a tiny part of who you really are, keeping the rest hidden, afraid if they saw the real you, they’d run like hell.
” I let my thumb brush over the corner of her mouth, and her brows pull so tight, I can taste her raw emotion like it’s etched into the marrow of my bones.
I lean back into her ear for a moment, dropping my hand from her face. “So how’d I do?”
Once I level my attention back to her, her sadness, it’s still there, but only for a stolen moment, then her face slips into that smile she disappears behind.
“Wow, you ahh—” She swivels and stares down at her feet for a second too long before focusing back on me. “You have me all wrong. I—ahh—I love working here and am doing it willingly.” A shallow breath’s caught in her remark. “So unless you want a dance, I have to go back to work.”
She whirls around, not giving me a chance to respond. But instead of marching away, she pauses, fastened in place. Even without her needing to tell me, I know all of what she just said was a lie.
I stroll up, my front only an inch from her back. I slide my hand up her arm, my fingertips caressing her smooth, bare skin, and her shoulders sway with harsh breaths. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” My whisper comes gently over the shell of her ear.
“You didn’t.” Her words are set with an edge, but there’s a vulnerability within it.
“I did.” I pause. “Friends shouldn’t hurt each other’s feelings.”
She slowly pivots, a line forming between her brows.
“We’re not friends and you don’t know me.” There’s no anger there, just pain, and I instantly want to take it all away.
“How about we change all that?” The question sits heavy in my throat, like it’s dreading the answer.
Her forehead creases, her face contorting with annoyance. “Are you trying to mess with me? Did they send you?” Her slightly widened eyes casually dart across the room. The fear is all around her like an aura. “You can tell them to fuck off! I’m not that stupid.”