Chapter 11
11
CADENCE
T his family is completely insane, and I'm a little jealous of them.
They have stamina, that's for damned sure. They've closed the club out. And I've had the pleasure of watching most of them shed any inhibitions they might have had, not that I think they had many to begin with. I can't take my eyes off of them, so in between wiping down tables, I watch the show.
The lights in the club came up a while ago. Three of the most talented dancers, Angie, Alexis and Star are laughing and doing some sort of a demonstration for the Brash women, seated right at the stage. The Brash men, including my sexy boss are seated up in the VIP area. The men have handled their liquor a little better than the women have, and there are a few designated drivers in the bunch, including a very large man holding a very tiny baby.
When the club was open, the table full of men drew a lot of attention from women and men. They have an air of power and confidence that makes women want to be around them and men want to be them.
Now that the lights are up and the regular patrons have cleared out, they're still sexy, but the air of mystery around them is gone. It's easier to see the goofy grins on a few faces. Okay, on Maverick's face, because that's the one I'm spending the most time looking at.
The man is drunk.
Not asleep under the table drunk, but invincible, thinking he has life by the balls drunk. And oh my god, drunk Maverick is a serious flirt. Luckily his brothers are keeping him distracted because goofy, happy, drunk Maverick is hard to resist.
I'm wiping down a table next to the guys, making covert eyes at my boss when Kade stands. "Uh oh. Here comes another concussion," he says grimly.
Following his gaze to the stage, I see Becca doing some sort of barrel roll onto the stage. The girls are laughing, egging her on. Hiding my own laugh, I finish with the table and move on to the next one. The next time I look back, Cara is up there too. Both women are attempting to climb the pole, and spin, but not having much luck.
Then Abby's on the stage. They've been talking about getting up there for a while, but she's the only one who's actually had any pole dancing lessons. And her skill is obvious. Sure, she's not in the same league as the professionals, but she's worlds better than Becca and Cara. Abby's man, John, is standing, transfixed at the show she's putting on.
Whistling at one particularly stunning spin, I step up to John, grinning at the look on his face. "Damn, your girl has some moves. I guess those pole dancing classes paid off."
"Yeah," he says hoarsely, eyes hungry. He steps away, and I'm positive Abby's going to get railed tonight.
Lucky girl.
Except before he can reach her, Maverick cuts in front of him, and climbs up on the stage. The women surround him, seeming to hold him back, and all of them argue with him for a minute. Then they start stripping him, and every thought drains from my head.
Every thought except…yum.
Because, oh my god, under that suit of his, hides the kind of body that makes women think very dirty things. I'm so busy staring at his chest and back, that I don't catch which woman loosens his pants, but oh my god, do I wish I could run up there and give her a kiss. Because there he is, Maverick, billionaire extraordinaire, in bare feet and black boxer briefs.
"What the fuck are you doing?" John barks.
I flinch and energetically wipe the table in front of me. It takes me a second to realize John wasn't talking to me.
Abby, looking like it's Christmas morning, is the one that answers. "He says he can do it. I wanna watch."
Becca steps closer to him, and I creep forward, giving up any effort at cleaning. I don't want to miss this.
“You just climb up," she says, "then flip upside down, and slide slowly to the floor. It’s really easy.”
Maverick's not buying it. The man may be drunk, but he's not stupid drunk yet. “Just like that? Just…slide down?”
She nods and so does Cara, backing her up. I'm not sure why he's choosing to believe them. It's not like they got anywhere close to actually executing that move.
Abby seems to be the only voice of reason up there. “Uh, it’s not quite that easy. I’ve been going to classes for a while, and I still can’t do it. It’s a really advanced move.”
Maverick steps up to her, and gives her a patronizing, very drunk smile. “I’m stronger than you, Abby. I’m sure I can handle it.”
Choking back a laugh, I toss the towel over my shoulder and press my tray to my chest. I am not moving from this spot. I don't care if Trixie comes out and threatens to fire me if I don't stop slacking off. I will happily lose my job for a ticket to this shit show.
Abby’s eyebrows raise. “Well, of course. You being such a big strong man, you should have no trouble. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I can't help it. I laugh out loud. Bree and John, seated at the girls table right in front of the stage, turn to look at me. “This is such a bad idea,” I say, still laughing.
Bree grins and pats the seat beside her. "It is. Come and sit. Get a better view."
I don't need an engraved invitation. My ass is in that chair so fast I almost sit on her hand. Dropping the tray into my lap, I stare hungrily up at Maverick. I don't really have a type, or at least I haven't up to this point, but oh my god, I do now. My type is golden skin, dark hair, big strong hands, and thick, appropriately hairy thighs. "Why does he have to be my boss?" I groan, swallowing.
The dancers, Alexis, Angie, and Star, don't seem at all shocked to see the owner of this place in his underwear, and I can't figure out if I'm okay with that. Does he do this often? I mean, I guess if he's getting naked on the regular, it's a way different workplace than I was imagining.
The women all cluster around him as he grips the pole with one hand, looking up at it with a frown. Is he regretting this? I'm invested now. I've got to see him get up there, or at least try.
“Use your legs to stick to the pole,” Nick yells helpfully. Maverick grunts and grips the pole, then jumps up, wrapping his legs tightly around it. The man has no clue what he's doing.
“Just shimmy on up there now, honey,” Angie drawls, not trying to hide her smile. Maverick takes the advice and pulls himself up there using the strength in his upper body alone. When he gets to the top, a good twelve feet from the stage floor, he wraps his legs around again.
“Okay,” he yells down at us, “what do I do now?"
Clenching my hands, I'm torn between laughter and worry as with a lot of shouted advice, he maneuvers himself head down at the top of the pole. There's a sheen of sweat coating his skin, and I can't imagine that's helping with his grip. He's twitching, shaking his head trying to move the thin gold chain he wears around his neck off his face. All his shaking makes him lose his grip, and he slides a few feet down the pole.
Bree and Holly both yell, "Oh God!", but my jaw is clenched so tightly, I couldn't speak if I wanted to. Luckily, he's able to stop his fall, but obviously it spooks him. He giggles. It's the same giggle I heard that night at the rescue when he threw poop at me. It's panicky, high-pitched, and completely contagious.
He's giggling and grunting as he wiggles on the pole. I can't quite figure out if he's trying to flip over, or come back down. Either way, every time he scares himself, he laughs harder. Thankfully, John hops up on the stage, turning to glare at all the men laughing behind us. "Any of you fuckers plan on helping?"
"Make sure he doesn't tea bag you on the way down," Zach says, making me choke on my own spit. John apparently doesn't find that idea as funny as I do.
“This is fuckin’ embarrassing man," he snarls at Mav. "Get your shit together.”
“I…this is so…fucking stupid. Why did I do this?” Maverick asks between giggles, whole body shaking. “I’m stuck. Help.”
John glares back at everyone, then reaches up and puts his hands on Mav's shoulders. “Just loosen your grip a bit, and slide down. I’ll slow you so you don’t break your fuckin’ head. Okay?”
“Okay,” Mav says, right before he completely lets go, falling straight down. His face hits John's chest, then he slides straight down John's body. For a moment, they're stuck in a full sixty-nine position, mouths to balls, then John screams and jumps back, letting Maverick fall straight to the floor. John's chest is heaving, like he's trying to work up a hairball, and Maverick on the stage in a lump, still giggling.
I should get up and check on him. He is my boss after all. But I can't do anything but collapse out of my chair onto the floor, laughing so hard I'm not making any sounds. Everyone else apparently feels the same way, as most of them are on the floor with me.
"Put your clothes on!" John snarls at Mav, then crosses the stage, grabs a laughing Abby, and throws her over his shoulder. We erupt into hoots, the men all yelling encouragement.
Yep, Abby's getting railed tonight.
Lucky girl.
Sighing, I wipe my eyes and stand, moving to the stage. I rest my hands on it, and stare at my nearly naked boss. "You doing okay, big man?"
"Ow," he mutters, flopping onto his back, eyes still closed.
I glance back, wondering if anyone else is going to check on him, but the answer is apparently no. A few of the men are eyeing him, but it's obvious they're not too worried.
I am.
I push my hands into the stage, and scoot myself up onto the stage, then crawl over to Mav. Carefully brushing the hair from his forehead, I lean in. "Are you okay?"
One eye slits open, focusing on me briefly before sliding shut.
"No. Ask my brothers to drag me out of here and bury me. They'll know where."
I laugh, shaking my head at his dramatics. "I'm not going to bury you. I think you'll survive. It's just a bruised ego."
"Among other things," he mutters. He shifts, pushing himself up to his elbows with a groan. "I'm never going to live this down."
"Probably not," I agree cheerfully. "But if it makes you feel any better, I don't think you're the first person to make an ass of yourself in this place, and you definitely won't be the last."
His eyes slit open, and he frowns at me. "Are you supposed to talk to your boss like that?"
Shrugging, I rock back on my heels. "Probably not. But I figure after watching you face plant in John's junk, we're on a different level now."
He groans and flops back dramatically. "Don't remind me." He lays there for a moment, then rolls his head to the side, facing me. A slow, crooked, flirty smile curves his lips. "You know, if you want to get on a different level with me, I can think of much better ways."
My cheeks flush hot, and I let my eyes roam over his exposed skin. He's gorgeous, and oh so tempting. But I'm not stupid. "I don't think that's a good idea," I say softly, trying not to draw the attention of the others. "You're my boss, remember?"
He huffs and rolls his eyes. "I'm not always your boss. Sometimes I'm just a man. A man who thinks you're funny and smart and so, so pretty. A man who would really like to take you out sometime. On a date. With nobody else." He wiggles on the stage humming to himself, then starts making snow angels, hand hitting my hip on the way down. And of course that hand squeezes my hip, getting a nice handful. He whistles, looking up at the ceiling, grinning.
Stinker.
I bite my lip, trying to hold back my smile. He's ridiculous. And charming. And so very, very tempting. But I can't. Not like this. Not with an audience. "Nice try honey. Hands off," I say, pushing to my feet. I hold out my hand to him. "Come on, let's get you dressed and out of here before you do something else you'll regret in the morning."
He sighs, takes my hand and lets me pull him up, swaying slightly on his feet. "Nah. I'm luckier than that. I'm not going to remember a damned thing about tonight," he says, throwing his arm over my shoulder. "It's a gift and a curse."
I wrap my arm around his waist to steady him, and together we limp down the steps off the stage.
Maverick's arm is heavy over my shoulders as I help him to a quiet corner of the club. His brothers are still laughing and carrying on, but no one seems to be paying much attention to us. I settle him into a chair, then hurry to gather his clothes. His shirt is wrinkled and his pants are inside out. It feels intimate to slide my arm inside to turn them right side out. As I carry them back to him, I can't stop thinking about what he said. Would he really not remember any of this tomorrow?
I drop the clothes in his lap and crouch down in front of him. "Are you sure?" I ask softly. "You won't remember anything?"
He gives me a lopsided, goofy grin. "Yep. Once I'm this drunk, it's all a blur. Probably for the best, considering all….that." He waves a hand at the stage, then lets it flop back into his lap.
I glance over my shoulder at the rest of the group. They're slowly gathering their things, still laughing and joking. No one is looking our way.
I turn back to Maverick, my heart pounding. No one's looking. And he won't remember it. Am I awful for even thinking about it?
This is such a bad idea. I know it is. But I can't help myself.
I lean in, my lips brushing against his. I only mean for it to be a quick kiss, just a stolen moment, but Maverick has other ideas. His hand comes up to cup the back of my head, pulling me closer. His lips are soft and warm, and he tastes like whiskey and something uniquely him.
For a moment, I forget where we are. I forget that he's my boss and I'm just a waitress. I forget that we have an audience. All I can think about is the feel of his skin under my hands and the way he's kissing me like he's drowning and I'm air.
But reality comes crashing back in with a loud crack of laughter behind me and I pull away, my cheeks flushed and my breathing ragged. I glance over my shoulder, but luckily no one seems to have noticed our little moment. That was such a bad idea, but holy crap, I don't regret it. It's my own damn fault. My curiosity got the better of me. And that had to have been the biggest mistake of my life. Because now I can't tell myself there's nothing there. That we don't have any chemistry.
Because oh my god, we do. So much. Like, all the chemistry.
"Why did you do that?" Maverick asks, his voice husky. He's leaning toward me, hand raised as if he's about to cup my cheek. I wobble, then lean back, forcing myself away from the temptation of him.
I shrug, laughing dryly. "Because just for a minute, I wanted to pretend."
I know this can never happen again. It's not smart. It's not right. But just for a second, I wanted to pretend that we could have something. That we could be something.
Just for a second.