CHAPTER TEN
SEVEN
Three hours of playing guard dog outside this damn VIP room.
I’d spent many more hours in worse places, but damn, this shit was boring. I didn’t let it distract me from the task, though. Vigilance was always the priority. Any flash of red hair, any gaze that lingered too long on Jordan, anyone who seemed even remotely inclined to consume too much of her attention: I was ready to intervene.
Jordan’s performance that night had been…I didn’t even know how to describe it. I could have nutted in place, but the sheer embarrassment of being a wallflower in a strip club, coming in his pants, prevented me. It was breathtaking. It was compelling. It was too good—and now her VIP bookings list was a mile long, and I was the one who got to watch countless men wander off looking dazed and satisfied.
I checked my watch. Three more hours of this: standing around, wondering just what Jordan was doing in there, trying not to imagine what her bare breasts would feel like in each of my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose. The damn strip club hormones were getting to me again.
The VIP room door swung open and I straightened, eyeing the latest release. A very tall, very thin man stumbled out, smoothing the front of his polo shirt. He eyed me briefly before wandering away.
Jordan poked her head out a moment later, smiling coyly.
“All right, Seven.” She tipped her head toward the interior of the VIP room. “It’s your turn.”
My brows drew together. “What?”
“Come on in.”
The confusion didn’t leave me, but I did as she said. She shut the door, drowning out the thumping music from the main stage.
“Aren’t you done in here?”
“Actually, the next block is yours, if you want it.” She smiled sweetly, sauntering toward the pole in the center of the room. Her calves flexed sexily under the low lighting. “The guy who booked this spot originally didn’t show up. So we’ll just pretend it’s taken until the next one.”
Some of my confusion dissipated and I glanced down at the couch behind me. Sitting down did sound nice. “Does this need to be sprayed down? You had a lot of admirers in here tonight.”
She laughed, hanging onto the pole with one hand as she started a lazy circle. “There’s no bodily fluids, come on. Everyone behaves themselves.”
“Just checking.” I smoothed my tie against my shirt before I sat down. She circled the pole. “I’m surprised you don’t need a break by now. You’ve been going nonstop tonight.”
She heaved a sigh, then shook her head. “If I sit down for too long, I won’t get back up again.” Her gaze drifted my way, locking on to me in a way that made my balls tighten. “It’s best to just keep my momentum up.”
I relaxed into the couch, propping an arm behind my head. Her gaze didn’t leave me. And I couldn’t stop looking at her.
Something unspoken throbbed between us. I had a feeling it had started building earlier that day. We’d cracked something open in my kitchen—at least I had. I never told anyone about my mom and her shitty ex-husbands. But there was something about Jordan that begged me to try new things. Be vulnerable. Open up.
And when she focused that blue-gray gaze on me, I was helpless.
“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked me.
I shook my head. “You know the rules.”
“Not even water?”
“I’m hydrated enough. What about you?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.” She leaned her back against the pole, facing me directly. Wheels were turning inside her head, but I couldn’t tell what she was mulling over. A few moments of silence passed, broken only by the muted undertones of the music outside.
“I have a weird question to ask.”
“Go for it.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said, needing to bring in more money…” She bit her bottom lip, gaze drifting to the floor. She was a living, breathing pin-up girl. Sometimes when I looked at her, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
I rubbed my chin, trying to focus. “Right.”
“I was trying to come up with a new routine. I was wondering if I could…try it out on you.”
I didn’t want to misunderstand this. Or read too much into it. “Like…”
“Like I’ll pretend you’re a regular customer in the VIP lounge,” she finished for me. “You don’t think it’ll be too weird, right?”
I cleared my throat, tapping my fist against my mouth. “No. This is your job. Why would it be weird?”
She nodded, looking relieved. But she was brimming with nervousness, which I didn’t understand. Unless she was planning on introducing a trapeze act into her routine, what could possibly be so new and different for her?
Jordan stepped off the mini stage in the center of the room and strutted my way. She fingered a long, slender cylinder that hung around a chain between her breasts. She stopped between my legs, and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“So. First things first.” She held out the necklace, looking down at it. “This is a vibrator.”
I straightened, rolling my neck in slow circle. “Okay.”
“And I thought we could have some fun with it.”
Her words slammed through me. My cock twitched in my pants as she reached behind her and yanked at the bikini strings. The fabric of her top went slack a moment later, and then it dropped away entirely. Her perfect tits were just above my eye-level.
My mouth parted, fingers curled.
She toyed with the vibrator again, looking at me coyly. “Where should we start?”
I tried to laugh, but it came out a stutter. She’s your client’s sister. Off limits. But the warning bells inside my head were hard to hear over the roar of attraction. And that roar was only growing louder. My cock had gone from twitching to fully hard in about three seconds flat. There was no hiding the bulge, but with how close she was, maybe she wouldn’t notice.
Jordan slid both her hands along my shoulders, massaging as she went. My head dropped to the back of the couch and I drew a deep breath.
“Just relax. You don’t have to be my bodyguard right now.” She floated closer, her nipples two tight, rosy points hovering within tongue’s reach. “Right now, you’re just a man. Do you like what you see?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, starting a slow count in my head. I could not lose control. Not here. Not now.
Even though it was all I wanted to do.
“Jordan, why are you doing this?” I dared myself to open my eyes and meet her gaze.
“I told you.” She had a little pout as she spoke, leaning closer. Her breasts almost brushed my chin. “I’m trying something new.”
I balled my fists at my side. All I wanted to do was cup those perfect, perky tits in my hands. Squeeze them. Lavish them in kisses. Slide my hands up the backs of her sexy thighs.
“What happens in here…nobody has to know.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper as she leaned down, closer to my ear. My cock was absolutely throbbing.
“But I’ll know,” I bit out. “And you’ll know. And we both know we shouldn’t.”
Her lips grazed my earlobe. My fingers curled against the cushion as she murmured, “Just tell me. Do you like what you see?”
Do not say yes. Even though you fucking love what you’re seeing.
“Or maybe I should stop,” she went on.
Her words jarred a cold fear into me, and I reached for her legs to stop her from leaving. I didn’t want to continue, but I sure as fuck didn’t want her to stop. It was a catch-22. There were no good outcomes anymore.
You’re fucked.
So you should just fuck.
“Don’t,” I whispered.
“Don’t keep going?” She swayed slightly in front of me as my fingers trailed up the sides of her legs. Soon, I’d found my way beneath her useless tutu, learning the silky contours of her ass cheeks.
I was a strong man. But I wasn’t strong enough to resist Jordan. Not when she was literally in the palms of my hands.
I squeezed her ass cheeks and she tipped her head back, moaning low.
“So I think I should keep going.” She wore a lazy smile as she sank to her knees on the couch, straddling me. She didn’t sink all the way down onto my lap, so she still didn’t know that I had a hard-on that could double as a weapon—one that was painfully trapped behind my actual weapon, in its secret holster. She knew what she was doing, how to maintain minimal contact while teasing at every turn. I dropped my head to the back of the couch, but her hands smoothed their way to the back of my neck, bringing my head back up so I had no choice but to look at her.
“Is this what you call behaving in here?” My voice came out like sandpaper.
“We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Yet,” I corrected her.
“Do you want to?” she asked.
I laughed, but it was humorless. “That’s irrelevant. I know you don’t go past a certain point in here. I’m shocked you even let me grab your ass.”
“This is for a new routine, remember?”
I ground my teeth, conjuring every last ounce of willpower that remained. This was the final frontier. Her bare tits brushed against the fabric of my shirt and I was a half-second away from demolishing all the rules.
“It’d get you fired,” I bit out.
“New service I plan to offer on the side,” she said into my ear. Then she bit my earlobe. I squeezed my eyes shut, steeling myself against the heat sizzling through my veins. I would not fall victim to Jordan’s sexiness. Could not.
“That’s what I need to test out,” she went on when I didn’t say anything. “You’re not a paying customer in here, so this doesn’t break any rules.”
“I didn’t peg you for wanting to get down and dirty with strange men outside of the club,” I forced out. My rational brain was floating away. I couldn’t believe I still knew how to form sentences.
She paused, like maybe this was a record skip in the rationale. “I plan to be very picky about who I do this for.”
Then she dipped her head down, though for what, I had no idea. Maybe she wanted to say something or whisper another sweet nothing. But my primal brain kicked in. I needed her. I’d reached the end of my rope when it came to resisting her. She was a gorgeous, writhing bombshell on top of me, and I wanted to dive headfirst. I wanted it more than air.
I caught her lips before she could utter a word. She didn’t miss a beat—when my mouth found her silky lips there was so hesitation, only hunger. Jordan clutched my face as we kissed hungrily, intensely, our tongues meeting forcefully in the middle. She fell against me as we kissed, making small noises that nearly undid me. I gripped the fleshiness of her ass, desperate to grind against her, but she was still on her knees above me.
When we broke for air, her chest heaved. She watched me with an accusatory look.
“Jesus Christ, Seven.”
I pushed my fingers beneath the sides of her thong, desperate to learn every curve of her body. “What?”
“I didn’t think you’d kiss like that.”
I blinked, still lost in the bliss of that make out session. She clambered off me unsteadily. I needed her back on top of me. I needed to be on top of her. I needed to tear off the remaining shreds of clothing separating our bodies and sink so deep into her she couldn’t work for a week.
Every ounce of logic and rationality had left the building.
“Maybe it was a fluke,” I admitted. “We should try again and see.”
She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I can’t think straight now.”
“You should sit down,” I told her. “Right back where you were.”
She laughed, but instead of doing as I suggested, she sank to her knees in front of me. My heart rate picked up.
“It’s time for my new move,” she said, trailing her hands up the sides of my legs.
My entire body prickled with anticipation, and somehow my cock found an extra quarter inch of length at her words. My Glock dug into my dick at an awkward angle, but I was too turned on to notice the pain.
“But first”—she slid her palms up my thighs, heading for my crotch—“I need to pull your pants down.”
I tipped my head. According to Jordan, the golden rule of Gemstones was that nothing ever happened in these VIP rooms that involved bodily fluids. But if my dick came out to play, there would absolutely be bodily fluids after I left.
“Why?”
She hooked her fingers along my belt and tugged gently. “Because I don’t want to ruin your nice pants.”
“Ruin them?” Maybe my brain was too hazy to understand what she was getting at. That kiss had knocked a few wires loose on my end, too.
She laughed softly as she undid my buckle. “Seven. There will absolutely be a mess if I sit on top of you. I can’t let you go back out there looking ridiculous.”
The meaning refused to click. “What mess?”
“Do you want to feel for yourself?” She surged to standing, reaching for one of my hands. She guided it beneath her tutu and between her legs, allowing me the briefest brush against the soaked crotch of her thong. The heat there threatened to unlock my beast mode. My fingers were glistening when she released my hand and sank back to her knees between my legs.
I groaned, my cock growing even harder. Not fair. “Oh my fucking God.”
She had a satisfied smile as she tugged down my pants, revealing the secret holster, my Glock, and my absolutely enormous hard-on. She gasped, looking up at me.
“Seven. I had no idea you were enjoying this so much.” She pulled my pants clear down to my knees and I removed the Glock from its holster, setting it aside. Her hands grazed the thick ridge of my hard-on, dancing over it so lightly my hips bucked automatically, seeking more.
“Don’t play stupid.”
“What?” She was trying her best to sound genuine, I could tell. But this was all a fucking act. It had to be. She dragged her thumb up the length of my briefs-covered cock, right over the damp patch of precum. She tipped her head as she watched my face for a reaction. I was trying my best to play it cool, even though I was seconds away from flipping her onto the velvet couch and fucking her brains out. This was her show—I was just a willing victim.
“You know exactly what you’re doing,” I bit out, my voice gritty from restraint.
“I’m working on new ways to make money,” she said, so sweetly that it couldn’t be genuine. And then she climbed up to straddle me again. Except this time, she plunked her ass down right on top of my cock and settled in. A low moan escaped her, her nipples tight rosebuds in front of me.
I was losing control faster than my blood was pumping to my cock. I cupped those perfect tits in my hands and leaned forward, covering one pink nipple with my mouth, then the other. Jordan gasped, arching toward me.
“You’re being a brat,” I said between lavishing attention on each nipple. “And you fucking know it.”
She bit at her lower lip, trying to hide a grin. “I’m not being a brat.”
I pushed my palms across the small of her back, and up the bumpy ridge of her spine. Then I tightened my arms around her so there wasn’t even a breath of space between us. Her tits smashed against my chest, her breath coming out in puffs against my chin. Her legs straddled me, her pussy right where it needed to be.
This could be fucking heaven.
“I just need to try out my new move,” she finally said.
I had to laugh at that. “Oh, you still haven’t shown me? After all that?”
“It involves the vibrator.”
I dove in for another kiss, capturing her lips and taking another juicy helping of her mouth. She melted against me, offering up her tongue and so much passion it nearly choked me. She clutched the sides of my face again as we kissed, growing needier and hungrier every moment.
“Oh, Seven,” she moaned when we broke for air and my kisses drifted down the side of her neck. I was a goner. Goodbye, any chance of escaping this room without fucking her. Goodbye, career. Goodbye, morals.
“More.” My voice was hoarse. I tugged on the end of her ponytail, exposing more of her neck as her head tipped backward. I latched on, trailing kisses along her neck. She started grinding on top of me, rhythmic and desperate. She whimpered, like she was already close. With how wet she’d been, I didn’t doubt she had a big need to satisfy. Just as big as my own.
“What’s your end game?” my voice came out almost a growl as I matched her movements. “You want me to fuck you in here?”
She moaned, digging her fingernails into the ridge of my shoulders.
“You brought me back here so I’d fuck you,” I confirmed. “You just want me to stick my huge cock in this little pussy, huh?” I wet my bottom lip as I pushed a hand beneath the tutu, desperate to feel that wetness against my fingertips again. To get a taste for myself. “Rub my cock over your clit. Push it in and out of that tight pussy until your whole body goes hot and you can’t see anything.”
She whimpered again, squeezing her eyes shut. “Maybe I do. And maybe you want that, too.”
I wanted nothing more. I’d sacrifice my career and my reputation for a chance to fuck Jordan. She’d blown the lid off, and there was no stopping me.
I slid my hand up her neck, framing her jaw with my thumb and finger. She was so beautiful. Even my wet dreams hadn’t been this hot. My other hand made contact with the slipperiness on her inner thigh. She rocked against me, moaning loudly.
“Please, Seven,” she begged.
Thump thump thump.
I fisted the tulle of her tutu, turning to look at the door.
Thump thump.
“Fuck.” She made no move, but a sigh escaped her. Clarity zipped through me—moments too late for my liking.
I pushed at her hips, eager to get my holster back in place and my pants on. Disappointment lapped at the edges of my awareness, claiming its throne in my subconscious.
What the fuck did you get yourself into, Seven?
Jumbled shouts on the other side of the VIP room door told me it was time to get back on track. Stat.
“Who is that?” My voice came out sharp.
“I have no idea.” She stood and stumbled away, reaching for her strewn bikini and quickly retying it. I had my holster in place, pants zipped, and belt buckled just as the door flew open. I surged to my feet, my heart hammering for a different reason altogether now.
“It’s my turn!” A squat, pear-shaped man burst into the room. Hands grabbed at him, trying to pull him back outside. My hand hovered over my hidden gun.
“I said it’s not your turn!” A feminine voice shouted. The hands holding him slipped, and he burst back into the room.
“My slot started five minutes ago! I get Sapphire now, what the fuck is the problem?”
I stepped toward the guy, placing myself between him and Jordan in case he decided to lash out. But my read on the situation was that he was horny and impatient. I can identify with that.
“You need to back off,” I warned him, approaching slowly. I could have him on the ground in two seconds. But I didn’t want to escalate the situation unless absolutely necessary.
“Sir, you cannot act like this!” Jordan’s friend Roxie—gemstone name Amethyst if I remembered correctly—grabbed at him again, and the owner approached from behind.
“Please step outside of the VIP room.” The owner’s stern voice made the belligerent customer turn.
“Why the fuck do you have us sign up for these slots if some shmuck is gonna take up his own slot and then all of mine?”
He was referencing me. I was the shmuck.
Maybe Jordan and I had lost track of time. I’d have kept her in there for another three hours if I could.
The owner and Roxie argued with the man just outside the VIP room. When I did a final sweep of the room to make sure Jordan and I hadn’t left anything behind—like a thong or my better judgement—I realized Jordan was gone.
She’d slipped out of the room.
I excused myself as well, leaving the heated tones of the customer dispute behind me. In the bathroom, I took a few moments for myself at the sink, splashing cold water on my face and trying to wrap my head around what just happened.
You gave in to your base desires, almost fucked your ward, and ruined any bit of moral standing you might have accumulated in your stupid life.
Disappointment shuddered through me again, alongside lightning bolts of excitement as flashes of the VIP room came back to me.
It had been the hottest moment of my life. Didn’t make it right or something I could do a second time.
That had to be that.
I left the brightly lit bathroom and returned to the sultry, thumping strip club. Outside the VIP room, I felt back in one piece, sewn together with regret. I swept the club, scanning for Jordan. I spotted her coming out of the staff area a moment later, deep in conversation with Roxie. Their return to the VIP room marked my return to guard dog status.
Jordan appeared unaffected as she breezed past me to confer with the owner once more. The belligerent customer had been kicked out, which meant her next booking would begin early. She disappeared into the room with two very eager looking men who were probably not even thirty years old, and the door shut.
I leaned against the wall, resuming my bored scan of the area while Jordan entertained the next clients.
But no matter how bored I seemed, my insides didn’t match.
My head and my heart roiled. Fingers curled at the thought that she might be doing the same exact moves with the two that just walked in there. Desperation clawed at me, urging me to kick them out and continue where she and I left off. I knew, deep in my bones, that we could never continue what happened in the VIP room if I wanted to keep her on my client roster and maintain a working relationship with her brothers.
I considered all possible scenarios while she worked.
Scenario one: She’d lured me in there to get me fired, so she could get out from underneath my and her brothers’ thumbs.
Scenario two: She really just wanted to practice a new move on someone safe and the chemistry between us had popped off unexpectedly. She never meant to kiss me or have me respond like I did.
Or scenario three: She’d been trying to tease me at my apartment all along and took her chance to take it further after someone cancelled their reservation…because she felt the same flutters of something inconvenient darting through her chest that I did.
I didn’t know which one was the most likely. My head spun by the time the door opened and the two guys wandered off. Her shift was over. I wasn’t convinced that meant I’d get any clarity, though. I didn’t know what awaited us back at the apartment. Crippling awkwardness seemed likely.
“Hey,” she said, glancing at me quickly before scanning the room as if she was looking for someone. “I’m gonna head to Roxie’s after work.”
“Excuse me?”
“I need a girls night.” She crossed her arms, sending me an annoyed look. “Can’t a girl spend some time with her friend once in a while? I’ll take a taxi to your apartment afterward. Can you allow that, My Overseer?”
“No. Girls night is fine, but you’re not taking a taxi from here, or from anywhere else. Fairchild vehicle only.”
She heaved a sigh, but she didn’t protest.
“And you sleep at my apartment, too. Not at Roxie’s. Or else I’ll show up myself and make it coed night.”
She didn’t meet my gaze, just looked out at the club and shook her head. “Fine. Whatever you say, boss.”
“The car will be waiting for you and Roxie when you’re done changing,” I told her.
She huffed but nodded. I figured she disliked the plan because it would involve her needing to share more details about her situation with Roxie—like why she had access to a private car—but I didn’t care. Her safety was priority. Nothing else. Least of all my dick. I opened my mouth to say more, to acknowledge the heart-stoppingly hot session we’d shared in the VIP room, but nothing came out. What else could I possibly say? We’d both been there. And now we weren’t. It had to have been a one-off.
“I’m gonna change,” she finally said, averting her gaze. She glided toward the other end of the club, beelining for the staff area.
I drew a deep breath, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I’d get the Fairchild drivers caught up on the plan for tonight. I recognized her sudden girls night for what it was.
An opportunity for a reset.
I needed to remember what life was like without Jordan breathing down my neck every day. What life alone felt like.
I knew better than to get comfortable, to get lured by false promises of happiness or whatever the fuck it was I felt when my heart got tight and the butterflies showed up.
I’d survived the infamous twins heartbreak and tragedy once. I didn’t need to welcome them to my doorstep again.
And wherever the fuck Jordan had tried to take me tonight would only lead to those two unwelcome visitors showing up in my life once more.