CHAPTER NINE
JORDAN
I woke up humping my pillow again the next morning.
I wasn’t proud of it. I sure as fuck didn’t do it on purpose. But my subconscious had a funny way of reminding me I was hung up on Seven.
Every morning, I woke up horny as hell. My pussy dripping. Clit throbbing. Humping a spare pillow like some sort of hormone-flooded teenager. This morning in my dreams, he had me cornered in a VIP room at work, his fingers dancing beneath the wet strip of fabric that covered my pussy. He had me backed up against a wall as he rubbed and teased and nipped at my clit. I’d been seconds away from coming before I woke up—only to find myself stuck in reality, which included a total lack of being fingered by Seven.
This job needed finished, and fast. I rolled onto my side and rummaged in the nightstand drawer. Of course, it was filled with my vibrator collection. I was an expert in self-pleasure, because so few men were granted access to my peace, my space, or my body. A small, quiet vibe would do the trick, since I was so close to the edge. I turned it on and slipped it into my panties. My hips bucked instantly, and I buried my face in my pillow before the groan escaped.
The orgasm hit like a tornado. It swept through me from head to toe, making every inch of my body quiver. When my leg stopped jerking, I turned off the vibe and took a few moments to recover, breathing heavily into my pillow.
Fuck. I needed this man. But he was immune to sexual advances.
Maybe you just need to lay it out more clearly for him.
I’d done my best so far. I’d played dumb in the bathroom more times than a functional adult human should. Other than a few glares, I got nothing from him.
Seven was either actually a robot, or he had no interest in me.
And I couldn’t bear the second conclusion. In fact, it would be far preferable to find out that Seven really was part AI and wore a human suit over his mechanical skeleton.
What does it matter if he’s interested in you? He’s your bodyguard. You’ll be moving out soon. You don’t even want to get close to anyone.
Even I didn’t know what I was after. A good dicking down? It’d been so long since I had sex and enjoyed it that the concept seemed like something out of a fantasy novel. I could count on zero hands how many times I’d climaxed during sex. I’d need both my hands and the hands of several strangers to count how many times I’d had sex and detested it.
My chest tightened at the onslaught of faceless yet painful memories. My adolescence and young adulthood felt like one huge block of heaviness whenever I recalled them. It could choke the life out of me on a bad day, send me into a spiral and panic attack. But still, I held out hope that someone, somewhere, might actually make sex feel like romance novels said it could be. So far, it had been something I begrudgingly tolerated, or, in the worst moments, fought against.
Which made my swirling, desperate desire for Seven all the stranger.
He probably wouldn’t even know what to do with a pussy. He’s too pretty to need to learn how to satisfy a woman.
I heard the voice of Roxie in my head. Those had been her comments about Seven the night I ran into him at the bar. I explained him away as a former interest that just hadn’t worked out—Roxie sensed a need to console me, so she offered those wise words. And she was probably right.
I just wished any of these very logical rationalizations would reach my aching core.
I stuffed my vibe back into the bedside drawer and pushed myself out of bed. Time to start the day. And after my tormented post-orgasm thoughts, it seemed wise to start the apartment hunt. I grabbed my iPad and pulled up a basic search, limiting the results to a specific price range. A few dozen results popped up—I’d definitely need coffee to sort through these. Since Seven had given me his official report – six pages of findings, feedback and recommendations—I knew what to look for now to satisfy his safety stipulations.
I slipped out of my bedroom, scanning the common areas for Seven. No sign. I set my iPad down on the kitchen island then slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. My movements echoed in the cool, tiled bathroom as I completed my morning routine. Once I was feeling refreshed and ready for the day, I went back into the kitchen.
Seven stood in front of the open fridge peering at the contents. He wore a baggy tank top with exercise shorts, with bare feet and his big biceps on display. I tried to take it all in without feeling like one of those cartoon animals with the bulging eyes and the awooga noise in the background. Stripped down like this, without the perfect clothes and the hidden guns, his masculinity hit in a different way. He didn’t look at me as I took my seat at the island.
“You feel like bacon?” he asked.
“Good morning to you, too.”
He glanced back at me, then made a big display of looking at the clock on the wall. “It’s after noon.”
“By like, two minutes.” I pursed my lips at him. His hands were coated with a fine dust, which made no sense. Had he been boxing? Was that chalk for his hands or sawdust?
“What’s on your hands?”
He turned to the sink next, washing off the mystery dust. “Nothing.” We were facing each other across the island, which offered me a perfect view to watch him perform the most mundane tasks. He took some ingredients out of the fridge and laid them out on the island. I got lost in the measured movements of his hands as he unwrapped various blocks of cheese, brought out an onion, laid a knife next to the cutting board.
“You want coffee?” he finally asked.
“I’d take a cup.” I swallowed, looking at his thick knuckles. Did those hands know how to handle a pussy? They certainly knew how to handle a gun. He turned toward the back of the kitchen, prepping the coffee maker. My heart fluttered. He was making coffee for me. Somehow, this was sexier than the dream had been. This reeked of domesticity. Of stability. Of…partnership.
“You looking for apartments?”
His question startled me back to reality. I looked at my iPad, which still showed my search results for the lower Manhattan area. “Yeah, uh…I figured I better get a jump on it.”
“Anything good coming up?”
I cleared my throat, zooming in on the map of Manhattan. “There’s this really nice place in Chinatown here…it says it comes with zero security and a super who can be wooed by a strange man with flowers.”
Seven snorted, his knife clacking loudly against the cutting board as he diced the onion. “I vote no on that one.”
“Well, I’m still looking. Though I’m not sure anything I find will pass the Seven Pillars of Security that you outlined in your report.” Those were my words, not his.
“You’ll find out as soon as I review it.”
“My next place needs to be cat friendly too.” My gaze drifted back to him. His muscles flexed even while dicing onions. This seemed inappropriate somehow. Why was he so sexy in every task? I gnawed on the inside of my lip, trying not to let my thoughts sizzle on my sexy dream for that morning. Sure, I’d orgasmed less than a half hour ago, but my body needed more, specifically from Seven.
“Why do you have that angry look on your face?”
I frowned, directing my attention back to my iPad. “Just thinking about all those cuts I found on Ranger yesterday. He’s too far away from me and I don’t like it.”
A moment of silence settled over us, broken only by the sounds of his food preparation. I didn’t know what he was making, but I was curious. And growing hungrier. The coffeemaker dinged, and Seven turned to face it.
“You take one spoonful of raw sugar, right?”
The way his shirt hung off his meaty shoulders made something deep inside me coil like a loaded spring. “Yeah. I didn’t realize you’d noticed.”
“I’ve seen you make your coffee before.”
My mouth flopped open as I struggled to respond. I’d lived with people for years that never knew how I took a drink or what my food preferences were. Seven turned around with a coffee mug in his hand, and I straightened.
“Let me know if I did it right.”
The coffee steamed lightly. He’d chosen one of the mugs I’d unpacked from my apartment: POKé-SLUT.
I rolled my lips inward, trying to stem the sudden urge to cry. “Thank you,” I forced out.
He turned back around. Mugs clanked again, then he held his own steaming cup, a tea bag sticking out. His mug read FUCKBOI.
“Cheers.” He lifted his mug.
I dissolved into laughter, my body shaking helplessly as I clinked my mug against his. “Excellent selection on the coffee mugs today.”
“You have quite the collection.”
“You could call it a passion of mine.”
He blew on his tea for a moment, then set it down untasted and went back to food prep—grating cheese into a bowl. I took an exploratory sip of my coffee—way too hot, which I knew it would be—and resumed my search on the tablet. After a few underwhelming search results that featured crumbling infrastructure and a definite lack of security cameras listed in amenities, I heaved a sigh.
Seven’s gaze flicked up to me for a moment. “So why don’t you accept your brothers’ offer to buy you a place again?”
Some of my vehemence about this topic had dissipated over the past week. Maybe their little brunch with me the day before worked its black magic on me. I hadn’t exactly been friendly with them, but it had also been…nice. To see them. To talk to them. To just be around them.
Even though I was still pissed about a lot of things, it felt surreal to be with blood family again. I just hoped Kaylee could appreciate that from the afterlife.
“It’s important to me to make it on my own,” I said. “I’m all I’ve got. I’m all I’ll ever have.”
“But you let them give you a bodyguard,” he said with a smirk.
I swallowed hard. “Well, it turns out, you’re pretty handy to have around.” The news that Dustin had been spotted coming toward Black Brewtiful yesterday was an unexpected wrench in my return-to-independence plans. I’d thought Seven had scared him off for good, but part of me wondered if Dustin’s appearance was just a fluke. Maybe he’d been going somewhere else.
Would I have to worry about Dustin forever? My brothers were just as spooked by his appearance as I was, and I hesitated to imagine how any of these recent events would have gone down without Seven in my life.
“You’re still against roommates?” he went on.
“Forevermore. Unless it”s Ranger. I’ve earned my solitude and my stability.” Tender and painful memories thrashed around inside my heart, desperate to escape. I never opened up to anyone about my past. But something about Seven told me he’d be gentle with my hard truths. Maybe it was the fact that I’d already cried into his chest once. Or maybe this was simply a consequence of my outrageous attraction to him. Whatever it was, I kept talking.
“I spent my entire life sharing rooms and houses with people that didn’t give a fuck about me.” I dragged my fingertip along the perimeter of the tablet as I spoke. “Supposed caretakers that made fun of me, locked me in closets, hid food from me. Then later on, roommates that gaslit me, used me for sex, stole my money.” I looked up at him, finding his warm gaze focused only on me. “I don’t want another living soul in my space or in my heart. And that’s not going to change. Even if it makes financial sense to find a roommate, I won’t have one.”
His gaze dropped, and he continued working on the meal. My words pounded in the air between us. I didn’t even mention that while I’d been starved and beaten up, Kaylee had been forced into sex trafficking and eventually died from her addiction. And that was because of the people paidto look after us.
Despite how true my words were, there was an important addendum.
Even just four days in with Seven, I knew I could probably live with him for the rest of my life without a single issue.
I’d never experienced that. His mere presence calmed my nervous system. And as much I pushed and poked him, the fact that he didn’t use it as an opportunity to further his own agenda was like an Earth-sized sigh of relief.
Seven was safe.
I’d been looking for safety my whole life.
I nibbled on my lip, the tears threatening again. Why the fuck was I so emotional this morning? I really needed to get my sass and glitter back in place.
“You’re going to need to pull in some more money,” he finally said.
I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. I’ll figure something out. I might try picking up an extra shift per week.”
Seven headed back to the fridge, returning with a package of mushrooms and a fistful of scallions. “You already work damn near seven days a week.”
“Well, I’m young. Now’s the time.”
He looked doubtful. “Just don’t overexert yourself. If you push yourself too hard, there are other consequences.”
My gaze drifted back to him, taking in all the small details of his face. The barely-there laugh lines around his eyes—because the man did laugh, just never for me. The slightly crooked nose, the black stubble casting a shadow across his jawline and above his lip. The scar on his cheek, only visible when the light hit it right.
He must have sensed me staring at him because he looked up sharply, catching me off guard. “I had some shitty stepfathers growing up.”
I softened, leaning toward him so I wouldn’t miss a word. Seven hadn’t volunteered a single piece of information the entire time I’d known him. The most I’d gotten out of him was his accidental admission of his age. This felt like a real treat. “Yeah?”
“My mom bounced around between husbands like it was a sport.” He got a distracted look on his face as he assessed the mushrooms and rinsed the dirt off them. “She always went for the bullies. The ones who beat up on her.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “That must have been hard to see.”
“After a certain age, I started inserting myself into their fights. Trying to protect her. Stop the abuse. Sometimes it worked. But a lot of times it didn’t.” He hefted with a humorless laugh. “I just couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t leave them behind and let us go start a life by ourselves. Without any of these idiots to ruin everything. When I left for the Marines, she had just moved in with a new guy. And I wasn’t around to protect her anymore.”
“Was she okay?” I was scared to even ask the question.
“He wasn’t as bad as some of the ones who came before him. I think she was just scared to be alone. Terrified, really. Your attitude is what I always wanted her to find somewhere deep inside her. That strength to leave it behind instead of seeking it out.”
I blinked rapidly, another wave of emotion overcoming me. I hadn’t expected that subtle compliment. I almost didn’t know what to do with it.
“Is she…still around?” The words barely made it past my lips.
He nodded. “In a nursing home in Nebraska.”
“Oh, are you from…Nebraska?”
He smirked, opening the carton of eggs. “Maybe.” One by one, he cracked six of them into a bowl.
“Wow. Didn’t peg you as a Nebraska boy.”
“Didn’t peg you as a Pokémon slut.”
Laughter rocketed out of me. I caught a small smile on his lips as he started beating the eggs.
“You win that round,” I told him. “Speaking of which, can we leave for the club a little early today? I want to do some hunting in the park.”
“Whatever you say goes.”
I felt a wicked smile begin to spread. He must have noticed because he quickly added, “With regards to your schedule.”
Seven greased up a pan and cooked the vegetables with a shiny wooden spoon. I watched him for a moment. Why was I so attracted to his wooden cooking spoon? It didn’t make sense, other than I was attracted to everything about him, including inanimate objects he touched. I decided to return to my apartment hunt. A few moments later, eggs began sizzling. It wasn’t long before Seven was plating two perfect veggie omelets. He grabbed for my chipotle cashew sauce and added a healthy drizzle to the top of both omelets.
He pushed a plate my way. “Ready.”
I bit my lip, looking up at him. “Is this really for me?”
“Of course. You live with me. You think I’m going to stand here and cook in front of you for a half hour and not share the end result?” He shook his head, forking off a bite of omelet. “Let me know what you think.”
I picked up the fork and dug into the omelet, making sure to mix in the cashew sauce. The flavors exploded in my mouth—mushroom, bell pepper, onion, a delicious cheese blend I couldn’t identify beyond the Havarti I’d watched him shred. Perfectly salted and seasoned.
I moaned without meaning to, my eyes drifting shut. Once I swallowed, I nodded. “What I think is yes. Absolutely yes.”
When I looked up, he watched me with a cocky smile, eyes sparkling. This moment, more than anything, told me I was seeing a different side of Seven. Finally.
“Gotta get you nourished before your big day.” The way the air tightened between us, I could tell he was about to deliver some snark. “A staircase race you’re gonna lose, some poké-hunting in the park, and then a full night of dancing.”
I jabbed my fork in his direction. “There were two truths and one lie in what you just said.”
“Zero lies, three truths.” He forked another bite into his mouth.
“Don’t bring that Nebraska sass right now,” I warned him. “This will only come back to haunt you when that pole gets installed in the living room.”
His shoulders shook with repressed laughter and my heart swelled. I eyed him as I ate, relishing this unexpected afternoon of vulnerability and connection. My whole body grew warm and buzzy. But by the time our plates were empty, my heart was constricting again. Telling me this was unsafe, destined to bottom out, a waste of time.
I offered to wash the dishes and then retreated to my bedroom to collect my thoughts. I felt tapped out, and the day had barely begun. That wasn’t a good sign. So once my food digested, I focused on stretching and listening to music. Eventually, the playlist transitioned to upbeat electronica, which meant my workday prep had begun.
Straighten hair. Apply base makeup. Put on street clothes. Pack outfits for the shift. Get myself jazzed for an inordinate amount of extroversion. The standard workday checklist. By the time I stepped out of the bedroom, backpack slung over my shoulder, Seven was dressed to kill and waiting for me in the kitchen.
“You ready, Seven?” Please say ‘born ready’ so I can give you shit about it.
“I was birthed prepared.”
Laughter cascaded out of me. “That’s one way to get around saying ‘born ready.’”
“Gotta keep you on your toes.” He grabbed his apartment keys as he followed me out. The same warmth from earlier returned—seeping down to my bones, prompting the smile to linger on my face. We launched another staircase race—Seven fucking won, dammit—and then had a quick prework detour to City Hall Park to hunt for Pokémon—none found, unfortunately. But as for keeping me on my toes, Seven did exactly that again when he revealed he’d downloaded the gaming app and played right alongside me.
After I said my goodbye to Seven near the front of Gemstones, a strange chill whooshed through me. I liked having him at my side. A lot. More than I wanted to admit. I stewed over this fact and a lot of other confusing things while I got ready at the back of the house. I was still occasionally jittery whenever a redhead walked into the club; but I knew Seven’s presence would more than take care of Dustin if he dared show up again. I tried to tell myself that I was merely turned on by the solidness and security that Seven offered. But I knew deep down it was so much more than that.
I took my time, chatting with Roxie and some of the other girls, catching up on the new drama since I’d last been there twenty-four hours before. Apparently one of the newer dancers tried to make off last night without paying her cut to the house mom, which was a mortal sin at any club. Everyone tipped out Clara, our house mom. She kept us fueled and running, stocking up on protein bars, snacks, hydration drinks, and so much more so we didn’t wilt and die while we worked our asses off.
When it came time for me to go on stage, I gave myself a final once over in the full-length mirror. I’d chosen my standard transparent eight-inch heels—my favorite work shoes—and paired a shimmery black tutu with a bedazzled bikini top. A black thong to match, and plenty of skin in between. My makeup was dark and smoky, and my hair was pulled into a high, slick ponytail, stick straight. I loved that every night I looked completely different. A new character, a unique vibe. It satisfied my need to keep things fresh and interesting.
But as the music thumped and my performance unfolded, I knew tonight was different. I had a lot of pent-up energy. All that sexual frustration from living with Seven was coming to the surface. I danced more passionately, more intensely. I was sweating within minutes, and that wasn’t normal. I tried new things in my routine that I didn’t normally include.
The clapping and hollering for “Sapphire!” boomed through the club as I performed, louder than usual. I tried to keep an eye on Seven, but it was hard under the lights while he was bathed in darkness. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. The energy seemed to crackle through the air between us. Could he feel that connection too?
I ended my performance on my knees in a sweaty puddle. My chest heaved as I struggled to gather the floating cash and receive the adulation being hurled my way. Once I tottered off the stage, I was swarmed by men wanting to book me. The owner, Eddie, stepped in to help organize the requests. I watched over his shoulder as he filled out the tablet that held our VIP room reservations.
The docket filled up. Almost my entire shift was already spoken for. The thought of not being able to connect with Seven the whole night, not even for a little banter, struck cold fear into me. The night seemed interminable, and I was already aching for more Seven. Before Eddie could finalize the list, I touched his arm gently.
“Hey, I need you to put someone in the VIP room for me,” I told him. “My friend, Seven.”
Eddie nodded. He knew that Seven was something of a security detail for me. I’d worked it out that Seven didn’t have to pay each night, and he wasn’t on the hook for purchasing drinks or packages with the girls. It had been the only way to make this arrangement work. When Eddie asked why I had the babysitter, I explained that a recent attack had changed things. He didn’t press for more details, and I didn’t provide them.
“Who’s covering?” he asked as his fingers swiped across the screen, entering Seven into the VIP lounge slot.
“I will. It’s a gift.”
He hefted with a laugh. “Nice gift. I got him in. Go get ’em, girlie.”
I took a deep breath, readying myself for the first VIP room booking of the night. Only a few Random Johns to make it through before Seven and I could get some time to ourselves.
I knew it was a bad idea, or possibly just a stupid idea. But I had to try.
Under the purple lights, freedom swirled, lifting me into my most powerful form. Like I could do anything—even seduce the one man who seemed immune to seduction.
This was my chance to push the envelope, and I had to take it.