Chapter 13
Need You Tonight
Music pulses through me, and just like last night, my body knows what to do even if my brain has gone numb as soon as I walked onto the stage.
Two songs in and my confidence is building again.
I can do this. I can’t let Cruz’s words seep under my skin.
Asher has put in place new safety procedures, with signs up all over the changerooms advising all woman not to leave the club without a security escort to their car.
Rumors were flying as to why, but I kept to myself while I got ready.
I knew if I got up on stage again without the fear taking over, I could keep going.
Turns out I can. I won’t let one out-of-control drunk stop me from moving forward with my new life.
I can make decent money doing this job, and I’m blatantly aware that I probably have three months tops, as I’m only here on a tourist visa, so I intend to dance for as long as I can.
I smile seductively at the man who just tucked a bill into my G-string. He grins back.
Over the man’s shoulder, dark blue eyes lock with mine.
I falter and lose concentration for just a split second, then I refocus and get back in time with the music, doing everything I can not to look back in his direction.
What the hell is Cruz doing here? I thought after last night, security wouldn’t have let him back in this room.
I move through the dance moves until my song ends, and I rush off the stage, my stomach tied up in knots knowing he’s here and probably about to cause more trouble for me.
Asher greets me at the bottom of the stairs, a charming smile plastered on his face like it always is around me.
“What is your brother doing here, Ash?” I ask, my heart racing faster than it should be.
“What, is he?”
I glance past him and find Cruz glaring in my direction. “Please get rid of him, I can’t work with him around.”
Cruz was finally asleep when Ash and I snuck out of the apartment this afternoon. I felt guilty at the time, but I wasn’t letting him lock me up in that place twenty-four seven.
“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him.” He strides away in Cruz’s direction. He’s in full support of me still dancing if that’s what I want to do. True to his word, he also hasn’t left my side all night, watching over me from hair and make-up then following me backstage as well.
I feel the brush of a hand on my shoulder and spin around to find Paige. “You looked great up there again.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, distracted watching Asher and Cruz.
She looks me over. “Everything okay, girl?”
“Cruz is here again.” I sigh heavily, my stomach twisted up in knots.
She looks in their direction right as he shoves at Asher. “Oh, and you’re worried he will cause a scene again.”
“He’s definitely going to cause trouble, Paige. He doesn’t want me working here.”
She smiles softly, her pretty face lighting up, and I know at least my job is safe. “I might have a solution for you then, if you want to get off the floor for the night but still make some cash.”
“What?” I mutter, still distracted with the boys. Sloane is also now walking through the VIP lounge in their direction. Shit!
“You have had a special request for the private suites, if you’re up for it?”
My brow rises. I hadn’t considered going into the suites, well, not really. “Who with?” I ask, not sure about anything anymore.
“He’s a platinum member but likes to remain anonymous. I can tell you he will pay generously and is one of our most trusted clients.”
“I don’t know.” I sigh heavily, still out of sorts after last night. I’m not sure I’m in the right frame of mind to make such a big decision.
She grins cheekily. “If it was me, girl, I know I’d be taking the money for a fun night. Any girl who has, hasn’t been disappointed. I hear he has a magic tongue, and his favorite delicacy is pussy.” Her laugh fills the backstage space, drawing the attention of a couple of other dancers.
“Should I do it? He’s not married, is he?
” I have no idea why I’m considering this.
After the mess that was last night, I should be running in the opposite direction, but a small insane part of me wants to prove Cruz wrong.
Wants to make a point that this is my life and I can do what I want with it.
Not only that, but the money would really be helpful.
“It’s totally up to you, but it would get you off the floor for the night.” She flicks her attention to Cruz, Asher, and Sloane. “And no, not married.”
I feel my cheeks glow with heat at the idea of getting paid to have some guy pleasure me.
I’m not even sure what that would feel like.
There was no way in hell Valentine would have done anything that was about my pleasure.
Normally I wouldn’t even consider it, even for the money, but Cruz has really just pissed me off turning up here again.
Why does he think he has any say in my life at all?
I understand what Jagger said about their mother, and after what happened last night, I get his insecurities, but I can’t make them mine.
If anything, I need to prove to myself that last night didn’t break me.
That I’m okay and can handle this. In that room, things might be set up to pleasure the man and whatever he wants, but we have the power to say no to anything we’re not comfortable with, and security is standing by if things get out of hand.
I also need Cruz to know he doesn’t own me in any way.
This is my life, and I’m going to do what I want with it. “Why not?”
She grins at me. “Let’s get you ready. You’re about to have the night of your life.”
I smile back at her, half excited and half nervous, adrenaline surging through me in a way I haven’t felt before. Or I just made the biggest mistake of my life. Either way, at least now I’m living my life, not one dictated for me by a man.
All dolled up in some fancy pale pink silk-and-lace lingerie, with suspender-belt stockings and platform six-inch heels, I lie on luxurious sheets in the oversized bed in one of the private suites, my heart racing so damn hard I’m not sure what it’s about to do.
My senses are heightened as I wait for the man who is willing to pay eight grand for a night with me.
Not an hour but the rest of the night. If I had known I would be blindfolded for this entire experience, I may have reconsidered.
But there is also something so thrilling about having my sight taken away.
The rest of my senses are kicked into overdrive.
The air temperature is warm enough to be comfortable, and a slightly sweet scent wafts through the air, something like jasmine that reminds me of the first few weeks of spring.
I try to lie still, but as time goes on, my hair tickles my shoulders, and I can’t help but fuss with it.
Paige suggested I ditch the wig, so my long dark hair is out and natural.
As time ticks on and nervous butterflies dance in my stomach, I wonder if the guy has cold feet.
If maybe he quietly snuck in here and I wasn’t what he was expecting, so he took off.
I try not to think about Cruz’s face when he watched me walk away with Paige.
He has no say in my life. Why should he, after knowing me for less than a week?
But it doesn’t mean I don’t still feel the pang of guilt for sneaking out on him after he was so sweet to me.
It’s going to be one mighty uncomfortable conversation tomorrow, but that is future Daisy’s problem.
A click of the door registers in my ears, my palms instantly going sweaty. This is actually going to happen. Even without seeing him, I feel his commanding and intense presence as he moves into the room, and a flutter of excitement runs through me.
A finger, light as a feather, trails its way over my bare stomach, leaving a scattering of goosebumps in its wake.
Not that he feels cold, more that his touch brings my skin to life and makes me want more.
My breath hitches in my chest, waiting, hoping.
Then his touch is gone. I don’t dare say a word, knowing that was against his rules unless I’m asked to talk.
But I’m itching to, fighting the urge to kill the silence in the room.
I sense his eyes on me, assessing me, and it makes me squirm. What if I’m not good enough for him? “According to your list, bondage is okay.” His deep voice fills the room.
I pause before I answer him, my brain going into overdrive, because I think I know that voice. Jagger Stryker? No, it couldn’t be, that man hates me; he wouldn’t pay for a night with me. “Yes,” I respond, my voice nothing but a whisper.
“Good,” he says, but it’s not enough for me to tell if it’s him or not.
I feel something rough, like the frayed end of a rope, scrape along my skin.
I have to assume from his last comment that’s what it is.
The bed dips beside me as he takes one of my hands in his, wrapping the rough texture around my wrist before he lifts it.
It remains elevated as I feel him attach it to something behind me like the wall or the bed frame, the scent of cedar and whiskey hitting my nostrils. He smells just like Jagger.
“Something tells me you’re familiar with the sting of betrayal, am I correct?” he asks me as he takes my other wrist and starts wrapping the rope around it. I’m surprised he wants to chat. From what Paige said, I thought this would be more down to business. Purely screwing.
“Yes.” I’m not sure where this is going, but now more than ever, I know this has to be Jagger.
It’s his voice, I’m positive of it, and that is scarier than some stranger tying me to a bedpost when I’m blindfolded.
What does he want with me? The last conversation we had, he practically threatened me.