Chapter Twenty-Three
Serenity
Kissing Jake Walsh is everything. The way he pulls me to him so that I can feel every rock-hard muscle underneath his clothes.
The way his powerful arms go around me, making me feel like he could protect me from anything or anybody.
And his lips, the way they move against mine?
It makes my mind go hazy with desire and my legs tremble.
There’s no way in hell I’m letting him walk away.
But, on the porch, as much as I want to lose myself in him, a little voice in my head reminds me that I haven’t told him everything. That there’s one more topic I’ve yet to raise.
I try to ignore it, but the voice grows louder with every touch of his lips.
I pull back. He’s as breathless as I am.
‘Jake, there’s something else,’ I say.
He searches my face. ‘What is it?’ he asks, and his hands go into my hair. ‘Tell me.’
I breathe out. ‘Almost two months ago, I had to perform a lap dance at the club. Kale told me I had to do it…’
‘Go on,’ he says, after a moment, urging me to continue. ‘It’s alright.’
‘The dance was Surly’s Rules. Which means the girl, she has to take everything off.
I danced for the client naked. I couldn’t see his face; he wore a hat the whole time.
He wasn’t allowed to touch me, but he seemed…
I don’t know. Interested in me. It wasn’t until we went to his wedding that I realized that the client was Brody Conway. ’
In the shadows it’s hard to decipher his reaction. ‘Brody Conway?’
‘He knew me by my stage name, Brandy Velvet. Then he cornered me at his wedding. Wanted to know who I really was. He’d put two and two together, that I was CMC but also an employee of Kale’s. I was Kale’s bachelor party gift to Brody, only since that day—’
My voice trails off. I hate that I have to confess this to Jake, of all people. Except he takes my hands in his and gives them a squeeze in reassurance.
‘I’m not gonna judge you,’ he says. ‘You can be honest.’
I take a breath. ‘Since that day he’s become more insistent.
I’ve been taken to his apartment twice, both times to dance for him.
To strip naked for him, while he watches.
He even had me wear a CMC uniform. The last time I was there, he told me that he wanted to sleep with me.
I refused, of course. But if I don’t do what he wants, he’ll expose me, and I’ll lose my position on the squad. ’
Jake looks at me. I bite down on my bottom lip. I know he said he won’t judge me, but I’m terrified of how he might react. He takes a single step back, the soles of his shoes scuffing against the porch’s wooden slats.
‘Wait,’ he says in an even tone. ‘Brody Conway. As in Lemon’s brother? As in that creepy, no-good-fucking-waste-of-space who sits up on high waiting for his granddaddy to bite the dust? You’re telling me that Brody Conway is blackmailing you?’
‘Yes,’ I manage, and my voice breaks. ‘I don’t know what to do. It’s why I need to quit the CMC. It’s the only way.’
‘Don’t you fucking dare,’ Jake growls and there’s a different tone in his voice.
One I don’t recognize. I’ve never heard him mad before.
I didn’t think he could get mad, but his voice quivers with genuine rage when he says, ‘Don’t you dare give up on your dreams because of that piece of shit. I’ll rip out his throat.’
‘Jake, we can’t do anything. Brody’s untouchable. Look at who his mom is. He’s heir to the whole damn Mutineers empire. Plus, he knows about my deal with Kale, because Kale must have blabbed about it. He knows everything. You talk to him, and he could derail your entire career.’
Jake goes back to pacing. His hands go to the back of his head, and he exhales shakily. ‘Does he know about us?’
‘Nobody knows about us.’
‘Not Kale McCoy?’
‘I mean, he saw you at the club, Friday. He asked who you were to me, but I didn’t tell him.’
‘Does Kale know about Brody’s request?’
I swallow. ‘No. At the club, we have a strict no-touching policy. But Kale is the one who sent me to his apartment. Kale seems to let Brody have whatever he wants, so I don’t know what kind of hold Brody has over him.’
‘When?’ Jake asks. ‘Did Brody give some kind of a time limit on his sick offer?’
‘He keeps sending me messages. Think about it, he says, but it’s clear he wants it to happen. Eventually, I’m gonna run out of time.’
In the dim light, I can see a muscle pulsate in Jake’s jaw.
‘Jake, if I quit the CMC, then the only thing for him to expose is my job at the club. Sure, it might damage the reputation of the Mutineers, temporarily, but I’ll already be gone. They couldn’t fire me. And you and I—’
I don’t get to finish my sentence. Jake comes back over to me. His mouth crashes into mine and he kisses me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before. His hands slide roughly into my hair as he pulls me back to him.
‘I need you to promise me one thing,’ he grinds out as he pulls away, our foreheads touching as we lean into one another. ‘I need you to promise me you won’t ever quit the CMC.’
‘But I have to—’
‘No. You don’t. Brody Conway doesn’t get to win. Over my dead body. Right now, the only clause you’ve broken in your contract is getting involved with me. Only nobody knows that, and we’ll keep it that way for the time being. Until we can fix all of this.’
‘But how do I fix this? How do I fix any of it?’
‘With my help. You’re not alone. I’m gonna be with you. I swear, Serenity, we’re gonna figure all this out.’
I wrap my arms around him and hold on tight.
Dad has fallen asleep on the couch. I switch off the TV and holding Jake’s hand, I lead him up the stairs. My belly’s fluttering by the time I open the door to my room.
I let him go in first. There’s only one light on, a cylindrical ceramic table lamp with little cutout stars, bathing the interior in a celestial glow.
It’s a small room, with only a single bed, a rundown wooden closet, a green velvet covered armchair, and a low dressing table backed by a long, horizontal mirror.
The Venetian blinds are closed. I had little notice Jake was coming here, so I didn’t have time to clean up, and there are piles of clothes strewn about the place.
‘This is me,’ I say nervously, because it’s hardly the palatial suite.
He goes over to the wall, where there are framed photographs of me in my younger years, some with my mom, or my dad, and some taken with old friends.
‘That’s me in high school,’ I tell him.
He turns around and smirks, pointing at the photo. ‘You were a high school cheerleader?’
‘Yup. It was the only thing I was ever any good at.’
‘I know that’s not true,’ he says. ‘Do you keep in touch with your high school friends?’
I look to the floor. ‘Not really. I never had any time to hang out with them. I never told them about my job at Surly’s. Some went to college. Eventually, they all just drifted away.’
Jake comes back over to me. He lifts my chin with his fingers. ‘None of this is your fault. You know that, right? All you ever tried to do was to help your dad.’
He rests his hands on my hips. In response, I snake my arms around his shoulders, my skin already craving his touch.
An ache blossoms between my thighs. He lowers his head a little, and I don’t hesitate.
Jake Walsh, standing in my bedroom, is not something I expected to happen any time soon.
I’ve never had a guy in here, at least not in that way.
Our kiss is slow at first. A tingling sensation fizzes up my spine and I savour it.
Jake’s hands go to my waist, lifting the hem of my tee and he slides his fingers underneath.
I help him out by removing my tee altogether, so that he can openly admire the shape of my breasts swelling out over the top of my cami.
He does more than that by lowering his lips to each one in turn, trailing kisses across the curves of my skin.
‘Won’t your dad hear us?’ he whispers into my neck.
I smile. ‘Not if we’re quiet.’
‘Deal,’ he says, and he’s still smiling when his lips collide with mine.
All that honesty on the porch is like a drug, a banned substance that just got legalized and I want more of it.
Like, in time, I’ll need another hit. Despite everything, it feels good to unburden myself to someone who has offered me nothing but support.
Jake could have walked away when he saw me on stage at Surly’s, but he hasn’t.
He’s listened and showed empathy and maturity, and I’m grateful.
He’s even offering to bail me out. And maybe I should let him, but in my mind, it would taint what we have.
We alternate between kissing and removing one another’s clothes, until we face each other, naked, standing on the wooden floorboards.
‘I have a condom in my wallet,’ he says with a swallow, indicating his Levi’s, which are now in a heap on the floor. ‘I know that makes me sound like a seventeen-year-old horndog.’
I reach out and cup his balls, which feel heavy and full, then slide my fingers along the length of his shaft and give it a firm stroke. ‘So long as it hasn’t been there since you were seventeen,’ I say lightly.
His eyes are half-lidded as I continue in my movements, visceral desire trouncing any humor he might have found in my comment. ‘Nah-uh,’ he manages.
‘Then that’s okay,’ I say.
‘You keep on doing that, I am not going to be able to concentrate,’ he replies shakily.
I don’t stop. ‘When we had sex at the cabin,’ I say, ‘I feel like you were with a version of me, not the real me.’
His eyes are fully closed now as I stroke him. I’m so turned on that I feel wetness leak out of me, a throbbing sensation low down and close to my opening.
‘Say that first bit again,’ he whispers.
I slow my stroke. My lips twitch. I love watching what this is doing to him. ‘What? When you and I had sex at the cabin?’
‘I like hearing you talk about it.’