Chapter 22 Maya
Maya
This is the first time since my seventh-grade dance that I’ve slow danced with a guy. I must say, the dance partner has drastically improved. One hand rests on Marcus thick, muscular, tattooed arm, my other hand is gently nestled in his as we sway side to side.
“So how long have you been in Mississippi?”
“Oh not long, just a couple days.” I’m not sure what Nick has told him, so I will keep my responses simple. It’s not a total lie, I did just get back in the state.
“I can tell you’re not from around here, I would’ve recognized a pretty face like yours.” His hand lightly drifts down my back.
“Thank you.” Heat flushes through me at his touch and compliment, and I can’t help but smile.
“Have you ever taken a self-defense class?” He leans into me, his chest brushing against mine.
“I haven’t” His aftershave smells so good. A small amount of hair peeks over the top of his partially unbuttoned shirt, making me want to run my fingers through it.
“I’ll be glad to teach you everything I can. This is going to be a dangerous mission, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” His grip tightens and he pulls me in closer.
I haven’t had enough time to process the gravity of everything, and the slight buzz from the alcohol is keeping me calm. I’ve never been much of a drinker, but I could get used to the euphoric feeling I have right now.
It’s like a fever dream going from the slums of Whiskey Rivers to dancing in an elite club with a high-profile man.
Let’s not even mention my attire. Emma made shopping and doing my hair and makeup so much fun, the reality of actually having to wear it in public didn’t sink in until Ethan knocked on the door and told me it was time to go.
I begged and pleaded for him to let me just wear a casual sundress, but he refused and locked me out of my room like the brat he is.
When we walked in and everyone was staring at me, I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out. Ethan leaned in and told me to smile like the voices in my head just cracked a joke. It caught me so off guard, I was able relax.
I can’t bring myself to look at Nick and the bombshell at his side. What little glances I’ve gotten of him, his stares have been so unnervingly intense. I know he’s noticed. I could literally feel the tension coming from him.
I’ll just have to deal with him later. I’m already on edge enough without him adding fuel to the fire.
“Does your boyfriend know where you are?” His blue eyes look deep into mine. As much as I want to, I do as I was taught and don’t look away.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I reply, barely over a whisper.
A smile crosses Marcus lips. “I’m surprised someone hasn’t snatched you up. I wonder if Uncle Nick would mind if I took you out sometime. If you want. No pressure, just a friendly dinner date.”
I try to hold back a laugh, but I can’t. Uncle Nick will have a fit, but honestly, I don’t care. He’s here with his secretary, who I realize is the girl he’s been pictured with. No doubt he’s fucked/is fucking her.
“I think I’d enjoy that, I don’t get out much.” Because I was kidnapped. True, I chose to stay, because the offer was too good not to and I don’t want to be homeless.
“How about Friday? I’ll pick you up at Nick’s at seven.” He brushes a stray lock from my face.
He has the sexiest smile; I’d be crazy to turn him down. “Seven is good, I’ll be waiting.” I smile back at him, absolutely stoked for my first ever date.
“Mind if I cut in?” a deep voice growls from behind me.
“Go ahead, boss,” Marcus says casually, but he gives Nick the strangest look.
Nick looks pissed. His eyes are black as night and his body’s stiff like he’s holding back his anger. The air around us is thick and heavy, tension radiating from every corner.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” He sounds calm and as smooth as honey, a stark contrast to his demeanor.
“I was.”
“What’s stopping you now?” He grins mischievously and steps closer into my space.
My breath hitches, his hand lightly traces down my side. He’s got us turned into the crowd where nobody at the booth can see what he’s doing.
“You. I was having fun dancing with Marcus.” I try to put some space between us, but he wraps his arm around my waist and holds me close to his muscular body, swaying to the slow beat of the music.
I glance around for Marcus and see him standing by the bar, relieved to see he’s not looking this way.
“Isn’t it better to dance with the devil you know?” Nick leans over and breathes in my ear. The sensation sends chills down my spine and over my skin. My heart starts to race. I love it when he does this.
“You make the devil himself look like a saint,” I breathe, barely a whisper as my head tilts back and my eyes close, I can barely concentrate as he grips my hip and gives it a gentle squeeze.
He’s right though, I do want to dance with him. Especially when he’s touching me like this. I want to feel the caress of a man whose presence is so intense, he makes the devil—and my pussy—weep.
My emotions are a tangled mess. His touch—it’s so right, but simultaneously oh-so wrong. I’m giving everything I can into resisting, but he makes it almost impossible. The song is so sensual, adding fuel to the blazing fire he’s lit on my insides.
His head is bowed on the other side of mine, so close the stubble gently brushes my cheek. His lips skate across my neck, dangerously close to my ultra-sensitive skin. “There are no saints in my world, cupcake. The faces of angels are just devils in disguise, and I am the master of them all.”
My heart beats so hard in my chest and pulsing between my legs, making me seriously regret my wardrobe choices. If he doesn’t stop, I’m going to be begging him to take me on the floor. That might be exactly what he wants—me to beg.
He’s just toying with you, and you’re falling for it like a heart-stricken teenager. Fuck that. Despite my urges screaming to give into his touch, I’ve got to put a stop to this.
“I’m going to get a drink from the bar.” I pull back, and once again he grips me tighter.
“You’ll have plenty of time to chat with Marcus tomorrow during your self-defense classes,” he grits through his teeth, his face now so close to mine we are beathing in each other’s air.
I can see he’s holding something back. Is he jealous? How the hell does he know I’m going to talk to Marcus, and for that matter, why the hell does he care? He brought his own date. She was practically in his lap when I arrived.
“I’m sure I’ll get to know him even better when he takes me out on Friday,” I toy ruefully.
“You are not going on a date with him,” he growls. He stops dancing, his jaw tightens, and his fingers flex on my skin.
The hell I’m not, he doesn’t own me. I stand firm, not letting him intimidate me. We stand silently, face to face for several seconds, each one silently daring the other to balk first.
“Why?” I snap.
“You are my employee and so is he.” He says it like this is information I should already know and be prepared to abide by some kind of rule against dating in the workplace.
“And? You can’t control what we do outside of work.” He must’ve forgotten his secretary is an employee. Seems the rules don’t apply to him. I try to back away again, but he doesn’t loosen his grip.
I take some deep breaths, trying to settle the panic rising in my body. I can’t stand feeling trapped. It reminds me of when my dad used to hold me down and punish me.
“The answer is no, and he better keep his fucking hands to himself during training if he wants them to remain attached to his body.” Tension oozes from every inch of Nick.
I shudder at his words. There’s no trace of humor in his voice, only cold-hearted threats. The crowd continues dancing around us, while we stand stationary, making me feel foolish. I want to beg for him to let me go but I also don’t want to show weakness.
“How is he supposed to teach me self-defense if he doesn’t touch me?
And, for that matter, what business is it of yours if someone touches me or not?
Didn’t you tell Ethan the same thing? I might be your employee, Nick, but I am not your personal property.
” My temper flares and my insides start to tremble. I am on the verge of pissed-off tears.
“I’m aware of that,” he growls.
“Then what’s your fucking problem?” It’s my turn to get angry with him.
“I’m not having this argument with you here. We are leaving before you get your panties in an even bigger wad.” Of course he doesn’t want to face the heat when it’s turned on him.
“I’m not leaving until I tell Marcus bye.” I cross my arms in a show of defiance.
“You have one minute to tell him you won’t be joining him on Friday. If you’re not ready to go by then, I will personally carry you out.”
I lean into him before we part. “Fine, and for your information, I’m not wearing panties.” I wink at him.
Something flashes in his eyes, and his jaw tightens, but not with anger. The tension between us shifts, and it might be the tequila, but I swear I see, no, feel…desire.
The makeup has been washed from my face, and I slipped into shorts and a tank top while replaying tonight’s events in my head. I’m going to have to go undercover in a strip club.
At first, the thought had me wanting to refuse, but not now. After all, I have plenty of experience dealing with slimy men. I know how to push them out of my head. I also know what it takes to get what I want from one.
Sex sells. Period. I’ve done it before when I was working towards my GED, I can do it now.
It’s just another stepping stone. Once I finish working for Nick and eventually finish school, it will be a thing of the past I never have to look back on.
And this time, I won’t be alone. I’ll have a team behind me, looking out for my safety.
It'll be similar but much different than what I’m used to. I’ll be in a controlled environment and Nick promised to pull me out of there if he ever thinks my safety is jeopardized.
The tequila I drank tonight has given me a slight headache and my feet and legs ache from the heels.
I take a meddling Squeak out of my purse and put her on my bed.
She’s at the stage where kittens go from cute and cuddly to a mini velociraptor, attacking me every chance she gets.
I give up trying to wrestle my scrunchie away from her and let her play with it while I dig for some Advil, but I can’t find it.
Emma probably keeps some stocked in one of the kitchen cabinets. When I reach my bedroom door, I hear a woman’s voice. Sasha. Ugh. Nick must’ve told her to meet him here because she was nowhere to be seen when we left.
I have a good mind to go out there and give him a piece of my mind, but I won’t. Instead, I retreat back to my room and pull out my phone and send a text to Marcus.
11:34 p.m. - Hey, I had a great time tonight. I’m looking forward to training with you, and even more so to our date on Friday night.
I didn’t waste the one minute I had before we left to tell him I couldn’t go out with him, instead we exchanged numbers. I don’t care what Nick says, he can’t control who I date.
A few minutes later, I get a text back.
11:36 p.m. - Something’s come up and I won’t be able to give you lessons. My brother Lucas will be there instead. Also, I won’t be able to make it Friday. I’m very sorry.
Tears fall from my eyes and I set the phone down.
I can’t be sure if he decided it was a mistake or if Nick had a hand in this.
I’m pretty sure it was more than likely Nick, but my self-esteem screams that I will never be good enough to go out with someone that attractive.
He must’ve just had beer goggles on while looking at me.
I bury my face in my pillow and cry until I no longer have the urge to waltz into the kitchen and throw knives at Nick Ryker. I’m surprised Ethan didn’t come in here after we got home. He usually always checks on me before bed.
My head hurts even worse now. The kitchen is quiet, and the lights are dim, so I risk creeping down the hall. I hear the faint moan of a woman coming from the other end of the hall. Sasha must be getting railed by Nick. I want to leave, but I swore I wouldn’t run away again.
I find the Advil in the cabinet next to the sink, and as I swallow the pills down, I glance out the window to the back deck. The pool and jacuzzi are both lit up. It’s a cool night and that jacuzzi looks tempting.
I wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to swim, as it’s pretty shallow. I still don’t have a swimsuit. With everyone either asleep—or occupied—nobody would notice if I crept out there and took a quick dip in my birthday suit.
Quickly creeping back to my room, I strip off my clothes, wrap myself in a towel, and tiptoe to the back door. Fake, porn star-style moans now echo loudly down the hall. They’re not coming out any time soon.
I slide the door open and walk to the edge of the hot tub. My heart races with the thrill of possibly getting caught naked. I dip my toe in the hot water, it feels divine. I take another look towards the door; all the lights are still off. Shit, I’m starting to chicken out.
“What are you waiting for?” a smooth, deep voice drifts from somewhere in the shadows. I’m so busted and in nothing but a towel. Fuck.