13 Cutter
HE KISSED ME.
My brain seems to be stuck there.
He. Kissed. Me.
And I let him. Didn’t do anything to stop him. Stood there while he grabbed my cock and pressed his lips to mine.
Maybe I was still in shock after catching the end of his performance where he let Dominic whip him on stage. I don’t even want to think about where my imagination went with that.
His tawny skin striped with pink.
His supple form squirming in lust…
Fuck.
What is he doing to me?
I watch his lean body saunter down the hall and try not to think about how his voice sounded when he said my name.
Like a whispered oath.
…Cutter.
It’s just a word. How does he make it sound like a promise? Like he could answer all my prayers with a single yes.
And then what? Letting my mind go there for a minute, what happens after he gets what he wants? Because right now, I’m a challenge to him. A mountain he hasn’t climbed. I see the kind of person he is. He’s just like Callum. One and done and fuck your feelings.
No thanks. I’ve already played the fool for that once. I have no desire to be a notch in any man’s belt. Especially someone like Aubie. I just need to avoid him whenever possible and resist him when I can’t.
I glance down at the bulge in my pants. Too bad I can’t control my traitorous cock. One problem at a time, I guess. I give it a couple of minutes to calm down then suck in a deep breath and reach for the door handle to push inside.
Daryl looks up when I enter, his face lit with excitement. “Did you see that?”
He points to the screens and I know where this is going. Damn it, I can’t get away from the fucker.
“Yeah,” I huff as I help myself to a ginger ale from the fridge and plop onto the couch.
“I swear I could make a living off him.”
It’s like the whole world is against me. “Maybe you should talk to Dominic about spicing up the revue’s routines.” How would I know anything about that, and why would I care?
I still can’t get the image of Aubie’s flesh when that whip hit him out of my mind.
Daryl shakes his head. “Everyone’s got a review. Six guys, synchronized stripping. But a two-man act? One on one? That’s different. More intimate. I asked him to think about doing it more often.”
So that’s what he was doing down here. “You do have other dancers,” I offer.
“Yeah, but none of them have his presence. He could be a star. Hell, he is a star.”
Jesus, even Daryl is buying into his game. The last thing I want to do is sit here and listen to him gush over Aubie fucking Gauthier. “What did you need?” I ask, hoping to get him back on track.
He gives me a blank look, then his eyes widen with recognition. “Oh yeah. What’s going on with the security search?”
“They’re sending over two guys tomorrow.”
“What about the hires?”
I don’t even want to think about that. “I’ve got close to two dozen resumes to go through, then I’ll start calling them in for interviews.”
“Good. Any more trouble?”
“It’s been quiet.”
“Good, good.” He grins at me. “So how’d your lunch with Evie go the other day?”
I thought he’d forgotten about that. At least I’d hoped he had. I offer a casual shrug. Lunch was nice. Evie is funny and easy to talk to, neither of which I care to discuss with anyone else.
“It was just lunch,” I reply instead.
He winks. “Between friends.”
“Exactly.” I can’t help what he thinks. As long as he doesn’t talk about it with Selena. I sit back and stifle a yawn, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl.
“How late were you here last night?”
“I don’t know. Three?”
“And the night before?” he presses.
I blow out a sigh. “So, it’s been a few late nights. I can’t exactly review resumes while the club is open.”
“Go home.”
I stare at him. “What? No, I’m fine.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t fine. I said go home. Let Javi close the club. Otherwise,” he smirks, “I might think you don’t trust him.” Manipulative bastard.
“Fine. I could use some sleep.”
“Or…whatever.”
I glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It meant nothing. Go home.”
“You’re sure?”
“Jesus, get out of here.”
I head back to my office to give Javi the good news and grab my jacket. I briefly consider texting Evie to see if she wants to meet for a cup of coffee, but I really am tired. Getting to bed early sounds like an impossible dream.
That warm fuzzy feeling leaves me as soon as I open the back door. The wind hits first, and it cuts right to the bone. Add to that it’s raining. There was nothing in the forecast about rain tonight. Otherwise I would have driven the truck.
The rain is slow but steady right now, but I can feel the heavier stuff in the air and doubt I can beat it home on the bike. It’s going to be a cold, miserable ride.
I’m psyching myself up for that as I venture across the parking lot when a white Mercedes rolls up alongside me. A window lowers, then the last voice I want to hear calls, “Get in.”
I bend down to look in the window. “Why would I do that?”
“Because it’s raining and freezing cold. You really want to endure that all the way home?”
Nothing I wasn’t already telling myself. But getting in the car with Aubie?
“Look, argue with yourself later,” he says as if he can read my thoughts. “Get the fuck in the car before you’re completely soaked. I like this leather.”
This is a bad idea on so many levels. What’s a little rainwater, and it’s not like I’ve never ridden in the winter before. At least it’s not snow.
But I’m tired and cold and the car is warm and…
Fuck it. Just get in the car.
I open the door and slide inside. He immediately raises the window then gives me a devious grin.
“Hmm. Never thought my evening would end up like this.”
I reach for the door handle and make a move to get out. “On second thought, I’ll take the bike.”
“Relax, Cutter,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me back inside. “Don’t you know me by now?”
I roll my eyes; all too well. “What are you still doing here? Are you stalking me?”
He chuckles and guides us through the parking lot. “What does go on in that handsome head of yours?”
I try not to focus on the ‘handsome’ part of his comment. “It doesn’t take much imagination to figure you out, Aubie.”
He sighs. “Fine. In the interest of friendship–”
I snort. “We’re not friends.”
He continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “I’ll let you in on my top secret plans.”
I open my mouth to retort then think about what he said. “Top secret plans?” What the hell is he up to?
“Don’t get too excited. I was just going to tell you I was sitting here texting a friend. My plans for the evening fell through and I was looking for alternatives.”
Wow, that was more honest than I expected. I glance over at him and am once again struck by how beautiful he is. Not a feminine beauty, just something…ethereal. Like he might break if you handled him too rough.
Maybe I’d like to try.
What the hell? Why would I even be thinking that?
“I’m a little offended that you think I’d let you ride home on that bike on a night like this,” he adds.
“I’m used to it,” I mumble.
“Yeah. Big bad Cutter. Man of steel.” He winks at me and I feel my lips quirk. In that moment I almost forget to hate him. “So where am I taking you, hot stuff?”
And just like that he reminds me. “Could you please not call me that?”
He reaches over and pats my hand. “Calm down, baby. That’s just me. You’ll get used to it.”
I don’t want to get used to it. I don’t want anything to do with him.
“If you don’t want to tell me where to take you, I’m just going to make it up as I go.”
Tell him where to take me? As in home? As in he’ll know where I live? Maybe I could just have him drop me somewhere and I’ll catch an Uber home.
That’s silly. What’s he going to do, park outside my apartment and harass me? I doubt even Aubie has the patience for that.
I give him the address, which he enters into his GPS, then the two of us ride in silence for a moment before he turns up the music.
I glance at him. “Gin Blossoms?”
“Hey, I like Gin Blossoms. I like all kinds of classic rock.”
“Not actually rock, and is the 90s really classic?”
He sticks his tongue out at me. “Snob. And it was last century, so yes it’s classic. Don’t act like you’re so much older than me. What are you, thirty?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“So you’ve got three years on me.” He turns his head and waggles his brows. “How ever will we bridge the gap?”
I snort. “We’re not bridging anything.”
“We’ll see, Cutter.”
There it is again. How does he do that? How does he give one word so much meaning?
“Why are you like this?” The question pops out of my mouth before I can stop it.
He snickers. “Now that’s a loaded question.” He’s quiet for a couple of minutes, then just when I start to think I’ve finally figured out how to shut him up, he asks, “Would you believe me if I said it’s my way of making a connection?”
“Is that your pick up line?”
“Honey, I don’t need a pick up line,” he drawls with a sly grin.
No, he probably doesn’t. “I meant, why does that have to be a different partner every night?”
It’s a question I used to want to ask my brother, when I was speaking to him. I guess I just want to know what causes a person to have so little empathy for the feelings of others.
He maneuvers the car around a fender bender before he answers. The roads are slick and visibility is dropping. I’m not going to say I’m grateful for the ride, but I really hate being on the bike at night in weather like this.
“Why not?” he asks. “No one is permanent.”
Is that vulnerability I detect in his voice? I watch his Adams apple bob as he swallows, his attention focused on the road. Has he lost someone? Someone he cared about? I’m curious but I’m not going to ask. Besides, I don’t care.
He makes a couple of turns and I look around, not recognizing our surroundings. “Where are we going?”
“Shortcut. Ask me another question.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you up to, Aubie?”
His eyes widen. “Me? I’m just trying to get to know you better. I mean, we have to work together, so–”
“We do not have to work together,” I interrupt him.
“I beg to differ. We’re always running into each other in the most compromising situations.”