Chapter 14
Courtney
The next couple of days are weird. Daniil has inserted himself into our lives like he’s always been here, and while part of me wants to set some boundaries, it’s nice to have help.
Real support. Landon is great, both as a brother and an uncle, but I think he would have headed back to L.A.
already if Daniil hadn’t shown up. He’s protective of me, and I appreciate it, but it’s hard to manage the two of them.
Meanwhile, Daniil has stepped up as Micah’s dad in every way imaginable. He feeds him, changes him, plays with him, and puts him to sleep. Even Landon is starting to accept him into the fold without question.
Micah seems to already love him, babbling excitedly as soon as he shows up each morning. Marcus has come around a few times, and Micah likes him too. Go figure.
I’m the only one who’s struggling.
Landon thinks it’s only fair I give him a chance, but I don’t know what the end game is. There’s no universe where I move to Limaj, and short of Daniil abandoning his duties as both a member of Parliament and a Royal Protector, he can’t be here. So, what’s the point?
The point, of course, is Micah having a father.
That part is obvious and…easy.
It’s everything else that’s fucked up.
Thankfully, I’m working at Club Inferno again tonight. Away from the boys’ club my house has become, where I can think about something other than the man who’s inserted himself into almost every part of my life.
It’s driving me crazy but—
Not tonight. I’m working. Time to focus.
Because it’s crazy busy. It’s a special event, that’s why they called me in.
Chains is here, along with another one of his security guys, Chris.
Well, everyone calls him Chaos, and I don’t know that story, but he was introduced to me as Christopher Morrison, and he said, “Call me Chris” when he shook my hand.
Now I hear his voice in my earpiece.
“Everything quiet in the dungeon.”
“Private rooms are good,” Chains adds.
“Dance floor is wild,” I grumble. “I can’t see the whole room from here, so it would be good if one of you joined me down here.”
“On my way,” Chris says.
“I’ll go between the private rooms and the dungeon,” Chains says. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“And I’ll be on the floor shortly,” Emilie puts in.
Despite tonight’s crowd, I like working here. Chains and Emilie are easy to work for, Jamie’s great when he’s here, and the clientele tends to be pretty well-behaved. Except for the drunk hockey player on the dance floor trying to hit on everyone in the room.
I’m going to have to give him a warning if he keeps it up. This is a sex club, after all, so there are different limits and expectations—but that doesn’t apply to harassing people who make it clear they’re not interested.
Dammit.
This job is usually easy, but this jerk has his hands on a young blonde who’s feebly trying to push him away.
“Possible trouble on the dance floor,” I say into my earpiece, as I move in that direction. “I’m going to have a conversation.”
“On my way,” Chris replies.
The hockey player is still making a nuisance of himself, trying to get the blonde to dance with him.
“Everything okay here?” I yell since the music is blasting through the PA system.
“We’re just dancing, lady…”
“Do you want to dance with him?” I ask the blonde. “You’re allowed to say no.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” the guy says, putting a hand up a little too close to my face.
“Another inch and I’ll break it,” I say, motioning for the blonde to move behind me.
She makes a beeline off the dance floor, and the guy—who’s at least six three and probably has a hundred pounds on me—snarls in my face.
“What the fuck did you do that for?”
“Because she said she wasn’t interested. We take consent seriously here.”
He rolls his eyes. “She’s into me. That’s what all these submissives—” he says it like it’s a bad word “—want. To be forced.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of what they want,” I reply. “Now either behave yourself or I can throw you out.”
“You and what army?”
“United States Marines, Major Grimshaw at your service,” I say, giving him a mock salute. “You want to try me?”
“Jesus fucking Christ—can’t anyone have fun anymore? I was just trying to get friendly. Why do all you dyke bitches want to ruin that?”
Dyke bitches? What does that even mean? Is that a slur because I mentioned that I was military or am I that unattractive?
“You can settle down or leave,” I repeat as calmly as I can, even though I want to throat punch him. “Choice is yours.”
“Listen, you stupid cunt—”
Yeah, I’m not here to be insulted.
Before he can finish his thought, I have his arm behind his back, twisted at such a painful angle he can’t get away.
“Fuck! Ow! What the hell is wrong with you?” He cries out as I maneuver him to the door. Chris comes around the corner and grabs him by the shirt.
“What’d you do to piss her off?” he asks, laughing. “She knows 427 ways to kill you using just two fingers.”
The guy pales.
“You should go sleep it off somewhere, buddy.” Chris shoves him into the lobby where everyone has to check in. “Make sure this guy isn’t allowed back,” he calls to the attendant at the front. “And don’t let him drive!”
Everyone has to leave their license at the desk when they arrive and if you look like you might be too inebriated to drive, the license is kept until either someone comes to pick you up or an Uber arrives.
“Jerk,” I mutter as the hockey player continues to complain and make a fuss.
“Let us know if he’s a problem,” Chris calls over his shoulder.
“Sometimes I hate men,” I say, glancing at him. “Present company excluded.”
“Everything all right out there?” Chains talks into our earpieces.
“All good, boss,” Chris replies. “We ejected someone.”
“Thank you.” Emilie’s voice is soft, a little frustrated. “We’ll handle it from here.”
We make our way back to the dance floor where things appear to be less chaotic now.
“You okay?” Chris asks me.
“Yup.”
“You know you’re beautiful, right?” he asks softly.
I blink in surprise. “Er, what?”
“I heard what he said—don’t let him get in your head. I don’t know exactly how he was trying to insult you, but whatever it was, he’s wrong. You’re gorgeous. Don’t forget that.” He winks and saunters across the room.
How come I’m never interested in guys like Chris?
He’s flirted with me before, and even though he’s good-looking, the attraction just isn’t there.
I was still pregnant when he started flirting with me, in the Westfield offices, and I didn’t take him seriously.
But he’s never stopped, and I wish I could find even an inkling of desire.
I pretend like I don’t care about dating when the truth is that I can’t be with the only man who’s captured my interest in years. A certain Eastern European prince. The same one who accidentally got me pregnant.
“Courtney, could you come up to the private rooms?” Emilie speaks in my ear. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”
“On my way.” I take the stairs and smile as we pass in the hall.
“There’s one scene going on in the viewing room over there.” She motions with her head. “Everything else is behind closed doors and quiet.”
“No worries. Take your time.”
I wander over to the viewing room. It’s basically a stage set up with a bed and a few chairs, and then there are seats in the audience for people to watch whatever’s happening on the stage. There’s a woman on a table that resembles a doctor’s examination room, stirrups and all.
Personally, anything that reminds me of the gynecologist or giving birth is the opposite of a turn-on. Or maybe I’m not as into watching other people getting it on as I thought I was. Probably because it’s been so long since I’ve had any attention. Daniil being around all day doesn’t help.
I can think of many negative qualities about the man—but looks isn’t one of them. Tall and lean, with muscular arms and shoulders. And unless something has changed in the last year, he had that damn abdominal “V” the last time I saw him without a shirt.
“Not your thing, hmm?” The voice whispering in my ear makes me jump and whirl, hand on my chest.
“Jesus!” I snap, glaring at Daniil. “Why did you sneak up on me like that?”
“Sorry.” He takes a step back. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I thought you were babysitting?” I demand, a little snippier than I intended.
“Grim and the baby are both asleep. I got bored, so I thought I’d come see what you were doing.”
“Working,” I say gruffly.
“I know.” His eyes darken slightly. “It’s a shame.”
“Well, if you’re going to indulge in club activities, let me know where you plan to be—so I can cover a different area.”
His eyes widen slightly, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”
I stare into those mesmerizing blue eyes and somehow manage to wrinkle my nose. He’s too gorgeous for his own good—or mine.
I absolutely cannot fall under his spell again.
“In your dreams,” I say haughtily.
Then I turn on my heel and head toward the stairs, sending up a silent prayer that Emilie is done in the restroom.